Please leave the door propped open a little bit...
Her skin was tingling. The soft silky sheets rubbing against her naked body mixed with heightened anticipation created a sensual awareness of her own physical craving, It had been her idea, this early morning visit, and her pulse was racing as she lay in bed waiting to hear him at her hotel door.
"I'll be there at eight." He'd said. "Please leave the door propped open a little bit." She'd risen at six and showered, oiled her skin to smell clean and fresh, brushed her teeth and applied a bit of lipstick. Then she slipped back into bed so could pretend that she'd just wakened when he came in. But even then, waiting in that heady expectancy, the succulent air ripe with the premonition of their shared chemistry, she couldn't help but feel the passion rise with in her. She ran her hands up and down her own silky body, squeezed her plush breasts, pinched her taut nipples. Then with a feeling of urgency and sly teasing, she brought her hand down between her thighs and dipped a finger into the folds of her fat pussy lips. She writhed in pleasure. One finger, two fingers, three... she wanted to feel that pounding, that weighted heaviness of his thick penis squeezing into her. It was the craving, the waiting, the knowing he'd be there soon that fueled her response to her own hand pressing in and out, in and out, in and out. She moaned. Then heard the faint sound of her hotel room door opening, the click of the lock as he entered and closed the door behind him. His gruff manly voice, "Hello?" She brought her dripping fingers to her mouth, licked her juices of each finger tip, and whispered coarsely..... "Come in. I'm in the bed."