It almost felt surreal being there, that dressing room at the back of the club where Armando first kissed me and propelled the start of my journey into the vixen lifestyle. There was the wall he pressed me up against, tasting my lips and my tongue for the first time. The rush of memories and feelings sent my head spinning and my heart racing. Couple that with the built arousal from my dances with Rafael and there was no helping the ache I felt in my pussy. I needed to be touched.
And right on cue, there came the sound of someone entering the room and the soft click of the lock. A moment later I was in Armando’s arms and we were kissing with unrestrained passion. I love Armando’s lips. Soft and expert in the way they fit and move against mine. I love the way he leads the kiss. Sensuality and sex are a lot like dancing. A good partner understands there’s a rhythm to it, a shared intimacy that is best when the lead knows how to guide within the context of the moment. Just like a song has a beat and atmosphere, the same exists in sex. And our moment in the dressing room was something driving and heady.
“You know,” I said breathlessly during one of the breaks in our kissing. “You’re never going to find your surprise if you don’t start exploring.”
It was dark but I could make out the spark of interest and sudden knowing. His hand went almost immediately to where I needed it, sliding down my dress and then caressing my thigh before slipping upwards to my bare, waiting, wet pussy. That was it, as expected. Our lips met with a renewed burn as his fingers worked their magic upon my clit. The man could multi-task. I had to fight back the moans. The build to orgasm was almost instantaneous. I buried my head in his neck, muffling my screams as he drove me to the brink with his practiced touch.
For the rest of the club event we shared illicit, knowing glances and texts that promised more at the hotel:
“What do you want me to wear?”
“Nothing.”
I grinned at the text, knowing he was as hot for me as I was for him.
It was close to 2am. I had left the club early to get ready for when Armando arrived. I was naked, as requested. There is a feeling I get whenever I think about it. Even after all my encounters, I still have that drop in my stomach like it’s the first time. Imagine a roller-coaster and the way it feels to have the sudden fall and rise. Senses are heightened. My heart thuds. My nipples harden at the thought of his caressing lips and beard.
My pussy throbs with want.
It’s late but I texted my husband, anyway.
“He’s coming over.”
I received an immediate response.
“Have a wonderful night baby. I’ll have my phone on and next to me if you need anything. I love you.”
And there it was, the safety of my reality as I prepared to indulge in my physical fantasy. This is my arousal. And I am amazed and grateful the lifestyle has allowed me to rediscover it.
I heard a knock at the door. When I went to open it, I positioned myself a bit behind it to spare any passers-by my cute, little, naked, white ass. Armando seemed a bit confused until he stepped inside, the door shut, and he saw me. There’s something gratifying in the look of sudden, sincere desire. That spark of need in his eyes. For me. All our usual pleasantries were abandoned that night. He took me. And it was exactly what I wanted. On the bed on all fours, my body arched upwards to receive the slam of his dick.
I screamed into the pillow. He slapped my ass, eliciting a sharp gasp.
“Your my bitch. Say it,” he grunted between strokes.
“I’m your bitch,” I moaned through hitched breaths, meeting every thrust with my own.
Dirty talk was new for us but it worked so well within the reckless, heady context we had been building all night. Armando obviously knew how to lead just as well in sex as he did in dance. He gripped my hair from behind, firm but gently. I looked back to meet his eyes. And it didn’t take long before he gave a final, deep thrust and emptied his cum inside of me.
We fell back on the bed in each other’s arms, exhausted, glowing from the euphoria of such needed release. We kissed. We talked. We fucked. By now, there was a comfort with each other that transcended simple hook-ups. Though not the intimacy I shared with my husband, Armando and I certainly enjoyed our connection, together. And he did a decent job of erasing all thoughts of Rafael and our dance…at least for the time being.
“You know, you are getting a bit predictable,” I teased at one point after he had brought me to another orgasm by use of his fingers. I banked on getting a reaction and it totally worked.
Armando looked incredulous.
“Predictable!?”
I grinned because I knew exactly where this was all headed.
“Just like the dance floor, I have to point out when you’re doing the same things over and over.”
Challenge set and, judging by Armando’s sly grin, I could see it had been met. Or at least I thought so. He slipped off the bed and casually made his way to the small fridge of the hotel where he had set his beer. I watched curiously as he took a drink and then popped something into his mouth. It looked like a mint of some kind. Armando was never a man to be hurried. He took his time making his way back to me. Absolutely unreadable. I had no idea what he was planning until he parted my legs and set his lips near my clit.
Oooooh fuck. This was new. Armando had never gone down on me. I was instantly turned-on. But what happened next I could never have guessed. Instead of using his tongue and lips, he softly blew against my clit. I felt the chill of the breath mint and the sensation of cold then mixed with the warmth he created using a new lube and rubbing my pussy, beckoning my g-spot. There were so many sensations at once, too many. He brought me to a near-instant orgasm and I was forced to cover my face with a pillow to keep from waking our hotel neighbors.
When finished, the smug bastard lay back beside me.
“Was that predictable?”
I glared at him. Or tried to at least as I worked to recover from the waves of built ecstasy.
“I…hate you.”
It was his turn to grin. I rolled to snuggle up into his arms. He reached over to turn off the lights. And for the first time, Armando stayed the entire night with me.
Sometime during the night, I exacted my revenge. Armando woke to the feeling of his dick in my mouth as I worked him back to erection. We had sex a few more times, in between bouts of sleep. When morning finally came, he left and almost immediately sent me a text thanking me for a wonderful evening. It had been.
And I couldn’t wait to tell my husband all about it.