Allure of the Vixen

by Morian, C. C.

  “Mostly?”

  “We’re not allowed to fraternize with the customers,” she said, her voice very level.

  I pretended I didn’t know what she meant. “Fraternize? Isn’t that what we are doing now?”

  “Outside of the hotel.”

  “I’m staying in the hotel. And we’re in the hotel now.”

  Now Pam’s eyes were smiling, although she kept her voice serious. “I think that is implied.”

  “I could be some kind of hotel reviewer, or even work for the hotel, I could be checking up on the employees, to see if they are following policy.”

  “You’re not.”

  “How do you know?” I was intrigued, because she sounded so confident.

  “Because I’ve been in that chair, or one like it, trying to decide how to forget someone, at least for a night.”

  This woman could have been a real psychoanalyst, she had read me perfectly. “Does it work?”

  She slid the check across the table. “Put down your room number if you want to charge it to your room. And if you want to find out.”

  Our eyes locked. Right then, as powerful as Joanne was in my mind, Pam’s blue eyes were winning, because she was here. She waited calmly, knowing I was making a decision, a decision she had already made, I don’t know how or why. I got the sense that if I turned her down, she’d not be upset, or sad, but she’d wonder about the other woman, the one I was trying to get out of my head.

  I signed the bill, putting my room number in the appropriate place on the slip. Making my decision.

  Pam picked it up. “I get off in an hour.”

  I smiled as she walked away, knowing her double entendre wasn’t an accident.

  A half hour later I was in my room, sitting in the one comfortable chair, my jacket hung up, my tie off. There was a soft knock at the door. I had a brief humorous thought about her last comment to me, wondering if she expected sex and an orgasm in the next thirty minutes.

  Pam came in quietly, still in her waitress uniform, carrying a small bag. “Please close the door,” she said. “I snuck up the stairs, I would get fired if someone saw me here.”

  I led her into the room. “Because you’d be fraternizing.”

  “They’ve fired people for just being too flirty. Wives hear about it, and complain. I have no business being on the guest floors, that would be cause enough.”

  “What about security monitors? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “Everyone knows where the cameras are. Just because people get fired doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

  I had a flashback to Joanne, just what I didn’t want, wondering how often Pam did this, just as I had wondered about Joanne.

  “Can I use your shower?” Pam asked. “I feel greasy, and I don’t want this to feel like I just came from a bar, even though I did.”

  “Sure, but make it quick,” I said.

  Pam looked at me as I kept a straight face. She read me again. “Because I only have about twenty five minutes to go, right?”

  I shrugged. “You set the timetable.”

  Pam disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door.

  She was fast for a woman. She emerged in fifteen minutes, wearing what looked like a man’s sweatshirt, it was big on her and came to her thighs. Loose as it was, it did nothing to hide her breasts, which seemed even larger than they had in the dim light of the bar. If she had reapplied makeup I couldn’t tell. Here was a woman confident in the way she looked, which she certainly had every right to be, not only because she looked good, but because she was in a man’s hotel room.

  She was barefoot and braless.

  “Sorry, this is all I had to wear,” she said. “My emergency change of clothes.”

  “No slacks?”

  “I could put those on too, if you don’t like what you see.”

  “It’s a great look for you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “As it was meant. Something from the minibar?” I offered.

  Pam shook her head. “I had some water in the bathroom. Plus,” and now she came to stand in front of me, very close, her eyes bedroom sultry, but not at all faked, I think she was totally in the mood, “I only have a few minutes left on my timetable, as you called it, and I don’t want to waste it drinking. Alcohol, anyway.”

  Her eyes closed, and I knew what she was waiting for. I didn’t make her wait. I bent down and kissed her, and she kissed me back, softly, not a kiss of impatience, but a slow ramp up, a kiss that said I want to make this last.

  Again reminding me of the difference between her and Joanne. With Joanne it had been frantic, hurried lust.

  I kissed her back the same way she had kissed me. Suddenly I was angry, at me, at Joanne, here I had this beautiful woman in my room, a gift unbidden, unearned, and I was still thinking of Joanne.

  We stood like that, in the middle of the room, swaying slightly, a nice long kiss, a romantic kiss, if you could say that about two people who knew nothing about each other. Or one person who knew nothing of the other, only that she was an incredible reader of men. And a very good kisser.

  Pam put her arms around me, standing up on her toes. My hand was in her flowing hair, sweet smelling, I recognized the hotel shampoo that I had used, this one bond between us.

  I slipped my hand underneath the sweatshirt, onto her bare back, pulling her close, the fullness of her breasts pressing against my chest.

  “I knew you’d be a good kisser,” she murmured.

  “More psychoanalysis?”

  “Woman’s intuition.”

  “You seem to be able to read me pretty well. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before, even people I know.”

  She gave me a small kiss, her lips slowly grazing mine, passing on to my cheek, my neck. “I bet I know what you like more than anything.”

  “What’s that?”

  Pam reached down and pulled off her sweatshirt, releasing her large, luscious breasts, as far from perky as you could imagine, nothing like the other waitress, and thankfully, nothing like Joanne’s. Pam’s areoles were the size of half dollars, her nipples a bright pink. I thought she wanted me to suck on them, that she was thinking what I liked more than anything was a good set of natural tits.

  But she didn’t want that, at least not yet. Instead she sunk to the floor. She was totally naked now, on her knees, in front of me. “You have too many clothes on,” she said, as she worked my belt free and unzipped me.

  My cock was hard, even though she hadn’t touched me, everything working to get me aroused, the sheer unexpected delight of a beautiful woman, in my room for just a few minutes, already naked, initiating sex.

  And on her knees.

  She gently took my cock in her hand, slowly stroking it. “I was right about this too,” she said, and she took me in her mouth.

  I gasped, I hadn’t had this experience for a while, a woman wanting to take me in her mouth with no real foreplay.

  I was hot, not only from what Pam was doing, but because she was doing exactly what Joanne had not done.

  I felt Pam’s tongue run around the tip of my cock, under the head, like she was kissing it inside her mouth. She caressed the shaft with her hands, with her lips. Without letting go she pulled down my pants, slipping them off me, taking off my socks, all while I stood there.

  My hands were clumsy as I unbuttoned my shirt, it was hard to concentrate on this simple thing as Pam worked her mouth around my cock. She was gentle but decisive, just like the way she had come on to me, knowing what she wanted, knowing what she was doing.

  I didn’t care how many men she had slept with, how many men she had sucked. All that mattered to me right there was how it felt, and it felt good.

  I let myself revel in it, I didn’t do anything to stop her, to bring her to the bed, to try to reciprocate, to make it something we were doing together. I just stood over her, and watched her blow me.

  And she seemed content doing it, a woman as co
mfortable on her knees as she was warding off a roomful of boisterous men. A woman who had a gift to give and was giving it now.

  I grabbed the back of her head and pushed into her mouth.

  She took me deep, letting me have my way, and then she firmly took back control, at least for the moment, and began stroking me in earnest. Before I had a chance to face fuck her again, she pressed into me, so deep I thought she would gag, and she did, just a bit, and only then did she pull away. And now it was her that was face fucking herself, but I wanted more, I was selfish, and I wrapped my hands in her hair and moved her head back and forth, until it was no longer clear who was doing what to whom.

  She moaned, I thought maybe she had been touching herself, but she was focused totally on me, and that moan pushed me near the edge, she was telling me she was turned on by this, by making a stranger hard, by sucking his cock, by making him lose control.

  I didn’t warn her, I assumed she knew, from her moan. But even if she hadn’t, I was in no mood now to be thinking of her, I was just thinking of me, and trying not to think of someone else.

  I exploded into her mouth.

  Pam moaned again, a moan of excitement, of contentment, of success. She gently sucked me dry, and, not because I felt guilty, I helped her to her feet.

  Her face was flushed, her eyes were bright. “I was right, wasn’t I? About what you liked best.” I caught the salty whiff of my semen as she spoke.

  I didn’t have to answer, she knew. “I think we’ve missed your timetable.”

  “Not by much,” she said. “I got pretty close, doing that to you.”

  “Is that possible?”

  She took my hand and led me to the bed. “I’ve always wanted to find out.”

  The bed had been turned down, the sheets crisp and inviting. She curled up next to me in the middle of the king sized bed, her head on my chest, like she was giving me time to recover.

  “I’m not going to guess what you like best,” I said.

  “I like what I just did. And I think I’ll like whatever you want to do.”

  She was like a prescription from a psychic doctor, so unlike Joanne in every way, how she spoke, how she looked, how she let me take the lead.

  And knowing that, that she didn’t expect anything, or demand anything, no hint of her wanting to use me, I wanted to please her.

  Another man might have kicked her out right then, or pretended to fall asleep. We both knew we’d probably never see each other again; she had sensed what I needed, and for some reason she had decided to give it to me.

  I kissed her hair, then her lips, then worked my way down, through the gap between her breasts, not stopping there, I wanted this to be as different as the last time I had sex as could be. I licked Pam’s stomach, then caught the hairs above her pussy in my lips and nibbled at them.

  She waited for me to spread he legs, not demure, but again letting me set the tone, putting me back in charge, just as she had relented to my authority after she had placed herself on her knees.

  I hooked my arms under her knees, spreading her legs, then used my lips to open her pussy, feeling her wetness, more than wetness, she was soaked, she hadn’t been lying, she had been turned on sucking my cock.

  This was my weakness, knowing I turned a woman on, that I aroused her well before touching any private part of her. It was a power, this ability to excite a woman almost by magic.

  I lifted her legs, pulling her pussy to my mouth, my hands on her stomach, feeling her heat. I could tell just by the way she offered herself to me that I was right, this is what she loved. Lying back, offering herself up to be licked.

  I was gentle, she had put me in that mood, I had come down from my uncontrolled fucking of her face. I moved my tongue underneath her labia, avoiding her clit, taking her wetness into my mouth, savoring it. Around and around I went, going closer and closer to her clit, which grew and grew, reaching out to me, begging me to take it.

  Yet I ignored it, as well as I could, concentrating on the rim of her labia, although her clit was so swollen whenever I grazed it Pam lifted her hips higher off the bed.

  I stopped, knowing she was close, and thrust my tongue into her, as deep as I could, flattening my tongue as I withdrew, dragging it across her clit, but fast, not lingering.

  “That’s so good,” she whispered, and I knew without looking she was smiling.

  I did it again, pushing my tongue in her, her juices filling my mouth, making me hard, so soon, just this did it to me, feeling a woman swoon under me, feeling her heat, feeling her desire for my tongue, for me.

  I dragged my tongue across her clit again, this time a little slower, catching the ridges, pushing down. Pam wrapped her fingers in my hair, not pulling, just connecting with me.

  I started down again, shoving my tongue as deep as I could, like I was fucking her, in and out, the movement sliding my body and my cock against the sheets, making me even harder, wondering if I myself could come just this way.

  As I started back up, fully intent on focusing on her clit, she suddenly grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up, surprising me.

  “I’m too close,” she said. “If you do that again, I’m going to come.”

  “Anything wrong with that?”

  “I wanted to try something else, if you are ready.”

  I was on top of her now, and she reached down for my cock.

  Pam smiled. “I see that you are.”

  “What do you want to do?” I had a feeling anything she thought of would be fine with me.

  “I want to see if I can come by just sucking on you.” And without waiting for an answer she pushed me upward, so that I was straddling her face. “That is, if you are willing.”

  “Let it never be said that I would stand in the way of science.”

  “So I’m an experiment now?”

  “It sounds like I am.”

  Just as she opened her mouth to take me, my phone rang.

  Pam stopped, and before I could help myself, knowing it was unbelievably rude and obnoxious, I glanced at the screen.

  Joanne.

  I hovered, not just physically, but torn inside.

  “Is that someone you need to talk to?” asked Pam.

  She looked up at me, guileless, demanding nothing, offering everything, at least for this night.

  “Not tonight I don’t.”

  I reached over and turned off the phone.

  The following week I was back in the city. I hadn’t returned Joanne’s call or even texted her. I wasn’t sure just what I wanted, except I wasn’t going to be her sex toy.

  The first day I was slammed busy in the office, mostly behind closed doors and in conference rooms. I didn’t see Joanne, but that wasn’t unusual—it was rare that I would run into her in our large set of offices, on multiple floors of a high rise building.

  Still, her aura was there, her presence. I knew that somewhere, not far away, she was walking around, men were checking her out. I tried not to think of what she was wearing, or not wearing.

  Or who else she might be fucking.

  I had no reason to be angry at her. But something about the whole situation, as exhilarating as it was, made me hesitant. Or made me think I should be. It was too easy. And too dangerous.

  Not only because of the office policy, but it wouldn’t be the first time some woman had tried to hook me, more interested in my money than me. I had a few friends who had suffered that fate, and it hadn’t turned out well. One guy told me of a woman who claimed he had gotten pregnant, just to snare him.

  Joanne and I hadn’t used a condom. I had just assumed she was on birth control, and the heat of the moment had overcome my usual sense.

  The next day I was sitting at my desk, two other people with me in a meeting, and my phone rang. I glanced at the internal ID, the call was coming from a conference room on Joanne’s floor. I let it go to voicemail.

  Later, when I checked, there was no message. This happened twice again that day. Late in the afternoon I
got a text on my cell phone. Talk to me, was all it said.

  I went to the gym instead, pounding out the reps, burning off energy, trying to burn off desire.

  That night, I lay on my bed, sorting out my mood and my reaction. It was time to decide what to do. On one hand, a relationship with Joanne could be a lot of fun. Joanne claimed she didn’t want any attachments—that was the message in her warning about not falling in love with me. She seemed discreet enough, not the type to broadcast her dalliances around the office.

  But I barely knew her. For all I knew she was a gold-digger. Or even if she wasn’t, she’d drop some hint, or we’d be caught standing too close, and someone would start to talk. Shit, she might be sleeping with someone else in the office already.

  Alluring as Joanne was, as good as the sex had been, it was too dangerous, too perilous, even for me. And that was saying a lot, I’d taken my share of risks. There was no upside in it, besides the sex, and how much better could that really get? That was the problem with great first time sex—if you had bad first time sex, you didn’t want to repeat it. But if it was great, and with Joanne it had been incredible, you wanted to do it again, and again, but it was hard to imagine it would be even better. Such an irony.

  I decided to cut it off with her, although I’d always wonder where it might have gone, and whether I’d get past her rules, her limitations on what kind of sex she would be willing to have with me. I didn’t need that either, frustrated by her limitations.

  I had decided, but I can’t say I slept well that night.

  The next morning I woke later than usual. I made some coffee and jumped in the shower. I had just finished shaving when I heard the apartment buzzer.

  A little surprised, I padded to the foyer in just my boxers. I had lived in this building for two years and I could count the number of times on one hand that someone rang my bell—big city neighbors were often anonymous, half the apartments owned by Europeans who only came to the city a few weeks a month.

  I was expecting the building superintendant, he’d be the only one to ring this early. Maybe something wrong with the gas.