The Hotel

So. When last we left, I had fucked Armando in a performance arts center office and accidentally left my hair clip behind. No big deal but a fun side plot later on and good to remember. Catch up with the full story here.

It was a week later. He had texted me everyday and there may or may not have been some fun sexting somewhere in there. It was another event at the club. Another hotel but with a completely new emphasis. No longer was this strictly about having a place to go so I didn’t need to drive the hour back home. I stood in my bathroom, far more aware of my look then before with my loving, wonderful husband leaned against the door frame watching me with a teasing smirk.

The Performing Arts Center

I sat in the coffee shop, trying to keep my mind on the work in front of me but completely failing as I imagined that moment, again. My back against the wall, his body pressed against mine, his lips, his scent, his hands at my waist. It had been only three days since our kiss but I could hardly think of anything else (Read the full story). My days went by in a haze of surreal remembrance and disbelief: had I really made out with another man? First against the wall and then those sweet little nothings as we danced. And then again outside the club when he had walked me to my car. It had been more intense, then. He had been more bold. Against the door to the car, our tongues together and his hands over my shirt grasping at my breasts and then sliding to my ass to grip and pull me against him. I wanted it. I wanted more.

It Began with A Kiss

We had known each other for maybe a year, just casual acquaintances at a local dance club I frequented to blow off some steam while my husband watched the kids. The week before, Armando and some other regulars and I were all talking about an upcoming event the club was hosting. I didn’t tend to like these events because they went on well past 2am and I had a long drive home. Nevertheless, my little group of club friends talked me into giving it a try. Get a hotel, stay out late and enjoy the dancing; it sounded wonderful to be honest. And for some reason he seemed particularly excited about the prospects of me staying late for the event. I didn’t pay much mind though the attention and playfulness was fun. I spoke with my husband and we agreed a night out was just what I needed.