Ariel’s Arousal (fm:one-on-one, 1570 words)

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This is not what I expected to be doing when I booked this guest house.

The woman grinding her ass against my crotch was nothing short of perfection. She must have been in her mid-to-late thirties, and she'd aged like the fine Italian wine of her heritage. Her long, dark brown hair waved freely across the back of her tight, burgundy dress that left her shapely, tanned legs exposed. The toeless high heels she wore pushed her plump ass up to the perfect height to rub against my (by now raging) erection. My hands ran freely across the fabric of her dress, getting to know the curves of her body and delighting in what I found.

The medium-paced song that was playing on the outdoor speaker system ended and a slower one took its place. I turned the woman around, and her arms instinctively wrapped around my neck. Her dark eyes and long eyelashes were striking and the soft smile she wore left no doubt that she needed this as much as I did. I stared into those eyes as I placed my hand on her lower back and pulled her close. Her crotch rubbed against mine in tiny, deliberate motions as she tickled her clit against my shaft through the fabric.

No, this is not at all what I had planned. But I wasn't complaining.

The plan had been just to get a way for a few days. I booked this cozy guest house that was separated from the main house by a large patio and hadn't planned on interacting with anyone much at all. I hadn't even seen the owner, Ariel, until this evening.

And I was not prepared for what I found.

Earlier that day, she'd left me a message that she was hosting a small get-together with a some friends on the patio that evening. No pressure, she assured me, but I was welcome to join.

I almost hadn't. I wasn't a recluse but I appreciated my alone-time and didn't think an evening with a bunch of strangers was how I wanted to spend my break from, well, people.

But the evening wore on and I peeked out the guest room window every so often. There were small groups of semi-well dressed people dancing, chatting, sipping wine, and simply enjoying the cool late-summer evening breeze.

Then, I saw her. I could tell she was the owner by the way she was making the rounds and chatting up her guests. But the exotic beauty of her face, the way her curves swayed underneath her tight dress, and the overall sexiness she exuded as she strutted across the patio in her heels convinced me to come out of my cage.

I threw on my "just-in-case" button-down, slacks, and dress shoes and emerged. The party had already going for a couple of hours, so my presence went unnoticed. Most of the guests were either tipsy or so engrossed in their conversing and dancing that the introduction of a stranger had no effect on the dynamics of the event.

Except for her. Ariel was chatting with a well-dressed older couple when I stepped out. She looked in my direction and I saw (or imagined I saw) the corners of her mouth curve up slightly. It was probably nothing, I cautioned myself, just wishful thinking.

But after an appropriate amount of time, she ended her conversation and made a beeline for me, striding casually but mesmerizing me with the sway of her hips.

The small talk ensued, but it wasn't long before I'd taken the leap and asked her to dance.

That was how we ended up here, eye to eye, pressing our groins to each other needfully, slowly swaying to the rhythmic sounds that filled the space.

Without pulling away, her arms still wrapped around my neck and her body pressed tightly against me, Ariel's eyes left mine and she scanned the patio. I did the same.

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Hook writes Thu 7 Nov 2024 23:19:

Excellent...but there is more; right?

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