One Night Stand

Author's notes: For disclaimer, warnings, rating and summary see chapter one.

Part Two

It's not very often that I get to Miami any more, as I hate the God forsaken place. Therefore, to have already spent a week there is hellish for me.

However, in this particular instance it's unavoidable. I'm here for my ex-husband's funeral, and the occasion is both sad and also kind of a relief for me. Anyone would be unhappy burying someone they'd once been married to. However, in the case of Cortland, it's also the final release from the misery he'd subjected me to for countless years.

I hadn't spoken to Cortland for four and a half years before his death, and the only knowledge I had of his life since our divorce was through his sister, Janice. I'd once been close to my former sister-in-law, and we spoke regularly on the phone. Therefore, when she called to inform me she had some bad news about Cortland, I assumed she was ringing me to tell me my ex-husband had finally got his two-bit tart pregnant.

Therefore, I was both shocked, and a little relieved to learn that Cortland had died due to a heart attack caused by all the alcohol he'd consumed throughout his life. I found it ironic, that the same alcoholism that had led Cortland to neglect me for years, and resulted in his affair, had finally caused his death.

I immediately flew over to Miami; I wanted to be there to support his family in their time of need and to help with the funeral arrangements in any way I could. Unfortunately, his two-bit tart was there too. Therefore, the seven days I spent at his family's home were unbearable for me. It was bad enough to be back in Miami with all the reminders of my failed marriage, let alone have her parading around playing the grieving widow.

The day of the funeral finally arrived, and I at last felt like I could close that chapter of my life. I sadly can't remember any good times Cortland and I had together, therefore the whole visit was tainted by memories of his alcohol induced abuse of me while we were together.

After paying my respects to a man I stopped loving a long time ago, and comforting his family at the wake, I am at long last allowed to leave the past behind me. However, I still have twelve hours in Miami before my flight back home to Kentucky is due, and not much to do to pass the time.

What I really need is to get so drunk I forget my own name and possibly seek comfort in the arms of a random (but of course good-looking) stranger. After trawling some of the local bars, with no more effect than drinking more than I really should, I find myself in a place called 'Lust'.

I don't know what drew me to such a seedy joint; it's completely packed out with tragic, over-weight, greasy businessmen leering over women who appear to be little more than prostitutes. I think I'm the only female in whole place that has more than a bikini on. However, the music is good, the cocktails are cheap and the bartender is amusing. I'd be tempted after a few more drinks to chat him up, that is if he didn't have huge hairy eyebrows and a slightly wonky nose.

As he presents me with another Tequila Sunrise, and a hilarious tale about some of the women he sees in here, I throw my head back in laughter. He really is quite funny, shame he's not good looking though.

I remain giggling at his comment about one woman who got so drunk that she fell completely out of her top, when I feel someone staring at me. In fact, the gaze is so intense that it's almost burning a hole in my back.

I turn around, fully expecting to be faced by one of the sweaty punters leering over me. Therefore, I'm thrilled to discover it's not, and that my admirer is actually quite cute. Strike that, he's damn hot. He's dark and brooding; just the way I love them. I look him up and down, as he continues to stare at me (I'm fully aware that he's looking at my breasts, but take it as a compliment) and notice that as well as short black hair, he has beautifully long eyelashes and deep 'come to bed' eyes.

He approaches me, without a hint of nervousness in his posture and asks me if I'd like another drink.

A shiver runs through me at the sound of his voice; it's soft with a slight hit of an accent.

I accept the offer, and the bartender fixes us both a Tequila Sunrise, as my admirer slips onto the stool besides me.

Again, I catch him looking at me, and smile to myself. (Typical guy, always looking at the breasts first.) As his eyes trail up my body and to my face, I too take the chance to get a better look at him.

The light from the bar reveals to me that he's wearing a white shirt, with a black jacket, and dark blue jeans. The shirt is unbuttoned a small way down, and I notice the dark curls of chest hair beneath the material. Now that is sexy!

I take a sip of my drink, letting the alcohol wash over me and delighting in the bitter kick of the Tequila.

Again, I feel his eyes burning into me, and I wonder what he's thinking. I wish he'd speak again, so that I could get another chance to listen to his accent.

Drinking the last drop, I lick my lips and taste oranges, before I push the glass across the bar.

"Would you like another one?" he asks, and I'm glad he's remaining. I think I'd have been a little disappointed with just the one drink.

I slowly let my eyes travel up his body – and I can't help but notice how tight his pants appear – before looking into his dark eyes and replying that I'd love another drink.

As the cocktails arrive, I inch my chair closer to his. I think he realizes, but thankfully he doesn't seem put off by it.

"So, are you here on business?" I inquire, and I notice his eyes flash for a second as I speak. He's obviously just realized I have a Southern accent.

"I suppose you could say that I am," he replies, and I can't help but raise an eye-brow at the ambiguity of the statement. "However, I really don't really want to talk about my work. How about you? What draws a Southern belle, like you, to Miami? Wait, let me guess. Vacation home on the beach, right?"

I can't contain my amusement at his assumption, and I throw my head back in laughter. Are us Southerners really that cliché?

"I wish. No, sadly I'm here for a funeral. My husband's last wish was that he was buried in his home city," I inform, feeling a little strange revealing that I was once married. I haven't referred to Cortland as my husband for almost five years, I guess it's the shock of his death.

He averts his gaze from mine, and I catch a slightly guilty look. I do hope I haven't accidentally given him the wrong impression with my last comment.

"I'm sorry," he meekly responds, and now I know for sure he's assumed the wrong thing. Damn, I really should have taken my wedding band off. I only wore it to the funeral to wind up Cortland's tart.

"It's okay," I reply, thinking how tired I am of getting pity for the death of such a pig. "We'd been divorced for five years before he died. I only came out of respect to his family and to put his two-bit tart in her place."

"Well, whatever the circumstances, death is never a good thing," he replies ruefully, with a look in his eyes that informs me he's no stranger to death himself.

"Believe me, in Cortland's case, it is. The man was a womaniser and a liar, I'm just sorry he didn't die sooner," I inform him regretfully, before fixing him with a reassuring smile. "But let's not talk about that."

We fall into a tense silence, and I worry he's offended by my callous words with regards to my husband. Thankfully though, he heeds my wish to change to subject and we continue to chat.

"So, how long are you in Miami for?" he asks, and I allow my eyes to linger on him for that extra second.

"Only the one day – for the funeral – I fly back to Kentucky tomorrow afternoon. Honestly, I'll be glad to get home and back to work. I hate Miami, and everything about it. Give me the whiskey distilling, horse racing, and gambling any day," I reply facetiously. "I miss my cats, and my work."

"What do you do?" he questions, finally taking off his black jacket, folding it up and placing it on the bar, revealing the white shirt underneath.

I hesitate for a second, wondering how my profession will be received by him, before answering. "I'm a lawyer."

He gives me a look, and I can't tell whether it's the usual reputation that proceeds lawyers, or something else.

Conversation ceases momentarily, as we both finish our drinks, and I can't refrain from looking at him when I hope he won't notice . His eyes really are quite gorgeous, and I mentally start to imagine what his hair would feel like, if I ran my fingers through it, while kissing him.

In the few minutes of silence while we finish off our drinks, I suddenly realize that neither of us have asked for the other's name yet, and it strikes me as odd. Then again, he already knows I'm a widowed lawyer, from Kentucky, who owns cats, and I know next to nothing about him. Maybe he's more mysterious and brooding than I first assumed! Perfect!

However, then I remember that I haven't exactly fished for information about him either. I can hardly expect him to be up front about his life with a total stranger. He's just a lonely business man looking for a little conversation. He doesn't need a some horny woman hitting on him. What does it matter if neither of us know each other's names? I doubt I'll ever be lucky enough to see him again. Tomorrow I'll go back to Kentucky, and continue being Christina Carter; power lawyer and he'll... well damn, I don't even know what he does for a living.

I sip the remainder of my drink, chiding myself for being so superficial. Give me a hot man with dark brooding looks, and I forget all about politeness and getting to know someone. That's always my problem, act first, think later. That's how I ended up with a jerk like Cortland!

I excuse myself by announcing that I'm going to the restroom. I need a refuge to cool off in for a few minutes, before I lose all control and try to jump him.

He suggest another round of drinks for when I return. Perfect, that's all I need to make me more horny, more alcohol!

I make my way across to dirty dance floor, being careful not to tread on any gum. I chance a glance over my shoulder, and I see him appraising my ass! Hum...maybe he is interested after all.

When I get into the restroom, I realize I've left my purse on the counter. I do hope he doesn't look in it. What would he think if he saw the pack of condoms and pair of handcuffs I have in there?

After splashing water on my face to cool me off a little, I make my way back over to him, swaying slightly to the heavy rock music that's playing. I can't take my eyes off him as I approach, he just looks so damn sexy with his head bopping along to the music, and the light playing in his dark eyes.

I elegantly slip back onto the stool besides him, and again risk inching my chair a little closer to his. I briefly glances at my purse, hoping he hasn't taken a look inside, before turning my full attention back to the sex pot before me.

"I assume if you're here on business, you're not from around here. So, where are you from?" I ask casually, as I take a sip from the new cool cocktail he's brought for me.

"I work from Portland, Oregon, but I travel around a lot," he informs, and again I can't help but raise an eyebrow, but he doesn't elaborate any further.

"Well, if you're ever in Kentucky, let me know and I'll give you a tour," I suggest facetiously, with a slight grin.

"I'll be sure to do that," he responds, and I pray his work sends him to the 'Bluegrass State' soon.

"How long are you in Miami for?" I query, not knowing what answer I'd prefer. I'd be devastated to know he's got to leave before I do, but then I can't bear the thought of him remaining in Miami with all the cheap tarts I hate so much.

"Only until tomorrow too," he returns. "Than it's back to work for me as well."

"Maybe we could meet for breakfast?" I suggests, hoping for a hell of a lot more before!

As I wait for an answer, I imagine what it'd be like waking up to those brooding eyes and strong arms tomorrow morning.

"I think I can do breakfast," he say, with a thoughtful smile.

"I know this great little place that makes the best Café au lait," I inform him. However, in reality, I'd much prefer instant, if it's being served from his hotel room, while I laze in his bed, recovering from a night of passion.

I silently sing along to the music, amused that its sexual lyrics reflect my current frame of mind. It's really kind of tragic for a thirty-one year old woman to be lusting this much over a total stranger. I suppose matters aren't helped when I haven't had sex for so long, and I have this gorgeously mysterious man, with sexy brooding 'come to bed' eyes, sitting so close to me.

I mouth the words of the song, making my lips into a perfect pout, with the desire to drive him out of his mind with the imagery of it. I wonder what he'd look like with my red lipstick staining his manhood. I catch him looking at me, and I revel in the fact that I've had such an effect on him.

As he glances away, I draw him back to me, by lightly touching his arm. The contact fills me with heat, and I feel a spark of electricity jolt through me.

"So, are you ever going to ask me my name?" I question facetiously, wondering what his own name is, so that I know what to call out in the throes of passion later!

"I'm sorry, how rude of me that I never asked you," he responds, looking slightly guilty.

"It's Christina, by the way," I offer, hoping the information will be reciprocated.

"Nice to meet you, Christina," he replies, extending his hand. "I'm Richard."

"Well, it's good to finally know your name," I giggle, imagining whispering it in his ear as he brings me to climax.

"Can you tell I don't do this often?" he say, sounding slightly nervous. Please God, don't let him be put off by my upfront attitude. I don't think I could stand the teasing of getting to know his name, only to not discover what he tastes like if I kiss him.

"What? Come onto widows you hardly know? I should hope not," I joke, trying to hide my own foolish desire for him.

He blushes slightly.

"No, I don't mean that. It's just, well with work...." he trails off and I again worry he's not interested in me at all. Damn, I am stupid in my lust at times. What kind of guy would be interested in a widow who just buried their husband?

"Don't worry. I don't often come to places like this either and I don't make a habit of flirting with men on the eve of my ex-husband's funeral," I reassure him with a smile, hoping he doesn't think I'm a complete raving strumpet.

"So, what do you normally do?" he asks, and I'm glad to know I haven't lost him all together.

I'm slightly taken aback, however, by the question. Surely he doesn't want to know details of my sex life? "What, you mean with guys?" I ask, with a slight blush.

"Sorry," he says shaking his head, and laughing slightly. I laugh too, he really is too damn sweet as well as sexy. "I meant when you're not working? What do you do to relax?"

"I read, I go to the theatre, I watch movies or take walks in the park. Anything simple really, I like the uncomplicated things in life," I confess. Oh yeah, and I'm a horny bitch, that makes a habit of chatting up total strangers! "How about you?"

He pauses for a minute, as if unsure how to answer, and I again wonder what those dark eyes are really hiding.

He looks deep into my eyes before replying.

"I like to read too, and go walking. I enjoy cooking as well," he responds.

"You cook?" I inquire, with interest. Damn, not only is he unbelievably sexy, but he knows his way around a kitchen too! "Well, I'm disappointed I'll never get to sample that. I love a man who knows how to cook."

If only I was lucky enough to sample his talents, after a night of covetousness, where I discovered what other tricks he hides behind those brooding eyes.

"Maybe I could cook breakfast for you tomorrow?" he offers.

"I'd really like that," I reply, barely containing my excitement. One goal down, one to go!

"Breakfast it is then," he agrees, with a grin.

As he orders yet another round of drinks - and I chide myself for not offering to pay for any– I can't help but inch close still. Our knees brush and I catch a whiff of his enticing aftershave, so that I hardly care less that my skirt is wrinkled.

"Ummm, this is good," I say, but I'm not referring to the Tequila Sunrise I sip through my straw.

"How long have you been in Miami for?" I ask, hoping he hasn't had much of a chance to be propositioned by all the whores who inhabit this hole.

"Just two days," he explains. "I flew in last night from Portland and got straight to work. How about you?"

"I've been here for about a week," I reveal. "When I heard the news that Cortland had died, I flew straight over to be with his family and help with the funeral arrangements."

Suddenly I feel strange discussing my pig of a dead ex-husband.

"Are you still close with his family then?" he inquires, and I hope he doesn't assume I'm some tragic grieving widow.

"Yes very, his younger sister used to be one of my best friends. Even when they found out about the affair, we remained close. It wasn't until the divorce came through and I moved home to Kentucky that we lost touch. It's a shame really, they're lovely people," I sigh, realizing just how much Cortland's family mean to me.

He again looks away, and I can sense his guilt. The sweetheart, he's so afraid of offending me, that he can't see my desire for him.

"However, life moves on and now that he's dead I can finally end that chapter of my life. Is it selfish that I'm glad he's dead? He spent so many years making me unhappy, that I'm pleased to finally be free of him," I admit, and I can't meet his gaze suddenly, feeling guilty of speaking so callously about Cortland. Even if he was a total bastard, he was still my husband once.

"No, not at all," he reassures. "Personally, I think it's good of you that you even came, I know I wouldn't have if it were me."

I smile and touch his arm lightly. Again, the contact feels like 200 volts of electricity have just coursed through my body and I wonder if he felt it too?

"So, have you ever been married?" I ask. "I assume you're not because you're chatting me up, but then again you never know with some people."

He laughs, and I'm glad to know he's laid back enough to find marriage somewhat of a joke. In all honestly, I think it's the stupidest idea known to earth. What's the point of committing yourself to the same person for the rest of your life, aside from the promise of regular sex? However, in some cases you don't even get that.

"No, I haven't been," he admits. "I don't think I'm the marrying kind really."

I'm relieved, the last thing I need is some romantic puppy dog getting down on one knee after just one night.

"I don't blame you, it leads to nothing but trouble," I say facetiously. "Although it is a shame not to have regular sex."

I blush for an instant, but then throw my head back in laughter. My God, drinking really does turn me into a horny bitch!

I once more move closer still, and I know he's noticed because our knees brush again. I fix my gaze upon him, and without words run the tip of my shoe up his leg. What I wouldn't give to strip off all his clothes right now.

"If there's one thing I hate about my work, it's the inability to form lasting relationships," he confesses. "It's pretty damn hard to wine and dine a woman when you have to fly out the following day."

Okay, wining and dining is always a bonus. However, I'm willing to forgo that for a night of passion, without any of the inevitable issues that always follow afterwards.

"I don't know, I'm sure it'd have its advantages as well. It'd be great to have all of the good stuff from a relationship, but without all the issues that go with it," I ponder, and imagine having my way with him for a night.

He really is too damn sexy for his own good, and he doesn't even realize it.

"I mean, how good would it be to meet someone – say in a bar – go home with them for one night, but then not have to worry about if they're ever going to call you back," I continue as I stir the melting ice in the bottom of my glass with the straw. Then I realize how drunk I am, and what a tart I must sound like to him. "God, I'm sorry. You must think I'm some sex-starved loony, carrying on like this."

Again, I laugh. However, this time it isn't carefree easy laughter. I'm feeling tense and slightly embarrassed at my last statement.

I hope my statement isn't taken the wrong way, and that he'll confess that he agrees with me and would like nothing more than a night of no strings attached passion. Instead, he just buys us both another drink.

"Thanks," I say, taking a long sip, and remembering that I've still yet to pay for a drink. "You know, you really should let me give you some money for all the drinks you've brought for me tonight."

"Nonsense, what sort of gentleman makes a lady pay for her drinks?" he insists.

"Well, you're very sweet," I say, resting my hand lightly on his thigh to which his body tenses arousingly. "And handsome too."

Then, he chokes on his drink. Oh God, I've really taken it too far now. He isn't interested in me and thinks I'm a complete whore.

I hand him a napkin, and he sheepishly swallows his drink, before wiping his lips. Damn, even when he's all flustered, he's still so sexy.

My hand lingers in his lap, as I take the napkin from him and move up to wipe away a spilt drop from his shirt. I notice the slight unshaven stubble on his chin. However, I don't lower my hand, but allow my fingers to play with the top button of his shirt. Seductively, I undo it and twist a small amount of his chest hair around my finger.

My body aches with desire for him, as my other hand rests gently on his thigh and I feel his trousers tighten with lust.. Slowly, I bat my eyes and incline my head towards his. I feel his coarse stubble on my face, as my lips brush his own and I'm dying to grab hold of him and deepen our kiss.

All too soon though, I end the kiss and open my eyes, his nose just inches from my own.

"I'm sorry, I..." I trail off, biting my lower lip and looking away in shame.

"Christina," he says seductively, lifting my chin and turning my gaze back to him. "You have nothing to say sorry about. I should have known it was too soon after your husband's death."

"No, it's not that," I insist, and take a deep breath. "I just didn't want you thinking the wrong thing. After everything I said about sex before, well...I didn't want you to think I'm some sort of tart, who just sleeps with the first guys she meets."

If only men could be on the same wavelength as me, and find nothing wrong in unadulterated passion.

"I don't think that at all. I think you're a damn attractive woman, who shouldn't be afraid to have what she wants," he reassures.

"What I want?" 'Is you,' I ponder, as I let my hands slowly move up his arms so that I'm gently caressing his shoulders. Deliberately, I close my eyes and I feel a chill as his mouth devours mine.

At last, I allow my hands to move up into his hair, as he parts my lips and provocatively slips his tongue into my mouth. I playfully suck on it, before letting my own explore his mouth with lustful reverence.

He pleasantly tastes of the bitter Tequila. It's enthralling, and I can't help but swoon as his hands run through my hair, until he's gently pulling at it. The act invokes a frenzy in me and I push my body against his. I can feel his broad chest pressed against my racing heart.

My hands slowly move down from his shoulders, and I can't resist undoing his top button. It fills me with desire and drives me wild, as his hand slowly moves up my leg and underneath the material of my skirt. I almost zone out from pleasure as he strokes the top of my stockings, and he deliberately plays with my suspender belt. I can't help but graze the skin I've exposed on his shoulders with my finger nails, as his actions drive me insane with wanting.

Thankfully, before I can take no more, he grabs my hand and after he throws down a tip for our drinks, we leave the bar. I'm relieved, because if we'd been a minute longer, I'd have mounted him on the counter top.

I quickly grab my purse and jacket from where I left them on the bar top, and then we exit the establishment.

The night is pleasant and neither of us have a need for out coats, so we hold them in our arms. However, the quarter of an hour wait for a cab is agonizing.

As we wait, I can't help but whisper in his ear all that I plan on doing to do to him when I finally get him alone, as I allow my tongue to run along the stubble on his cheek.

He heightens my desire for him, by kneading my ass with his hand, and I again swoon.

At long last we jump into a cab and it speeds off in the direction he orders the driver. I can no longer refrain from tearing at his shirt and I'm counting down the seconds until I can rip off his clothes and get a good look at his enticing body.

He doesn't even stop to inform the receptionist of my presence when we arrive at the hotel and I could care less what she makes of my being here. We jump straight into the elevator, and I can barely contain the desire to strip him naked right now.

He kisses me fiercely, as he fumbles for his hotel key card, and finally manages to get the door unlocked. We fall through the door, carelessly throwing our belongings to the floor, not once breaking our amorous clinch.

He walks us both backwards into the room, and I lingeringly undo his buttons one by one and let his shirt flutter down around his toned chest, exposing the tight vest he's wearing underneath it. I softly allow my nails to claw at the bare flesh on his shoulders, and I'm delighted when he shudders with pleasure.

He hurriedly unzips my pencil skirt, and the garment falls to the ground. Then he undoes the buttons running up the back of my red blouse. As that flutters to the ground too, he surveys my semi-clad body with lustful eyes.

As much as I revel in the attention, I'm longing to strip all of his clothing off and get a better look at his own body.

Unable to contain myself for a moment longer, I pounce on him and tug at his jeans. After a little pulling on his belt, I undo them and slowly extract the denim from his thighs, before letting them fall to the ground.

Now he's standing before me in nothing but tight black boxers and his white vest that contrasts perfectly with is exquisite dark features.

My eyes grow wide at the sight of his near naked body, and the bulge in his underwear. I grin slyly to myself, and saunter closer to him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lean in slightly and brush his lips with my own. I can feel his erection digging into my hip.

"Wow, Tiger, someone's pleased to see me," I tease, allowing my hands to caress his back.

"Like you wouldn't believe," he replies, gently biting my neck, as he lifts me into his arms and carries me over to the bed.

He drops me down on the bed lightly, and I hit it with a small bounce. It causes me to giggle slightly, and he smiles down at me. I can see the desire etched in his perfect dark eyes.

He slides down next to me, and gently caresses my breasts through the material of my bra. For some reason, having the thin film of silk between our skin heightens his touches and I quiver with longing for him.

Our lips meet again, and this time he kisses me with a deeper passion as he slides his tongue into my mouth, and I suck on it hungrily. A chill passes through my body, as his hands move down from my breasts and he caresses my thighs.

I'm inflamed by the contact, and my back arches, as I push our bodies closer together. He feels hot under my touch, and his heart is pounding. Longingly, his fingers slide up my thigh and under the silk of my panties.

I can't stop the cry that escapes my lips and Richard seems even more tantalized by it. Unable to take the teasing pleasure any longer, I roll us both over, so that my body is now on top of his and I allow my hair to fall down into his face.

As my curls flutter down around me, I press our bodies together closer still, before leaning down to kiss him. I slowly run my tongue along his bottom lip, and feel him quiver from my actions.

Slowly, I rise, so that my body is seated exactly in his lap and his hard erection is pushed into my ass.

I rake my nails yearningly down his chest, feeling the material of his vest catch slightly under them. Then I lift it up at the hem, and bow my head, so that I can lick from his bellybutton upwards, before removing the garment and allowing that too to fall to the ground. I purposefully bite his nipple and he tremors from the action. As I move my attention to the other nipple, he clutches hold of my head.

His fingers run through my locks, as he slowly teases the hair out and spreads it around my shoulders. Then, his hand travels down my back, to the clasp of my bra. Easily he undoes it and allows it to fall to the ground.

He looks at my breasts with animalistic fervor, as he props himself up onto his elbows. Then he lowers his head towards my breasts, and my body shudders. I swoon as he takes my right breast into his mouth, and teases the nipple with is teeth. I can't help but grab his head, as he trails his lips impulsively across the hollow of my chest, and then consumes my left nipple.

I shiver in his arms as his hard teeth graze the delicate flesh of my breast, and I can't refrain from clawing my nails down his back again.

Then, gently he rolls us both over and lies me back on the bed. We remain embracing, as my head hits the soft downy pillow, and my heart races.

With a seductive advancement, he licks down my body from my breasts to my bellybutton, and then pauses as he reaches my black silk underwear.

I arch my back, as he removes my panties, and he grips my bottom in his hands. His touch is firm and he kneads the flesh.

I kick off my shoes, and allow my suspenders and underwear to fall off the bed, before looking up into his dark eyes with a devilish grin.

"Can't you keep those on?" he asks with a wistful look towards my stilettos.

I smile obligingly, before picking the shoes off the floor and slipping them back on my feet.

As I swing my legs back onto the bed, I'm met with frenzied kisses down my thighs and to my calves.

Taking the opportunity, I rise up onto my knees and trail hot kisses down his chest, until I reach his boxer shorts.

As slowly as I can manage, I peel them off to leave him completely naked. He has a dark mass of hair right from his hard erection trailing up until his bellybutton.

I look up at him again, before lowering my head to his cock and sucking on it gently. His grip on my shoulders tightens, and he forces it deeper into my mouth. I'm thrilled as its immense size fills me completely.

I allow myself to consume the full length of it, as my actions become more intense.

As I feel the heat building and he almost cries out, I teasingly release his penis from my mouth. I blow lightly on the head, before moving my attention upwards to meet him with a passionate kiss.

As his mouth consumes mine, he pushes me back onto the pillows once more, and I pray he's going to return the attention I've given him.

Ruefully ending the kiss, he draws his lips along my neck and down my body, until he reaches my breasts again.

He devours my left breast, and I feel the nipple hardening between his teeth. As I arch my back, Richard moves his attention to the right breast, and sucks on it with equal reverence.

Then his tongue trails down my body with feverish kisses, and I catch him noticing my belly-ring.

With more kisses, he moves down to my legs and sucks the flesh of my thighs.

Then he gently lowers his head between my legs.

I swoon with delight, as he finds the sensitive nub between my lips and flicks it with his tongue. I lift my bottom, as his kisses become faster and my muscles tighten. Just as I grab hold of his head, and a moan escapes my lips, he stops and looks at me teasingly.

I want him so badly now, I can hardly contain my lasciviousness for him and I'm thrilled to see his cock hardening.

With deliberate slowness, he lowers his body on top of mine, and I quiver with arousal as his hard penis enters me.

It's fullness consumes me entirely, as I wrap my legs around his waist and my muscles tighten. Then with a hard thrust, he forces it deeper inside me, and I cry out with delight.

Our bodies become sweaty, and fall into the same rhythm, as he thrusts harder still, and I can't stop my nails from claw ring his naked back.

I swoon with passion, as he drives his penis deeper and deeper into me, and I bite down on my lower lip to stop me from screaming out.

My back arches up off the bed as Richard grips my waist tightly. My body aches with a feeling that is sensually between pleasure and torture.

Finally, just when I'm beginning to think I can't take any more, I'm tipped over the edge. Climax spreads through my body like a drug, consuming every part of me and making my toes curl.

"Oh, Richard," I whisper into his ear.

Seconds later, he finds release too as he thrusts for one last time, before collapsing on top of me.

Our breathing slows, and he gently rolls me onto my side, looking down at me, asthe orgasm washes over me.

In contented slience, we lie still allowing our bodies to return to normal.

Finally, feeling a little restless and unable to sleep just yet, I sit up.

Silently, I slip off the bed, cross the room and collect my purse. Returning to the bed, I take out a packet of cigarettes and a silver lighter.

"Would you like one?" I offer, extending the open packet towards him.

"No thanks, but you go ahead," he repies, and I see his eyelids flutter shut.

I take a drag, letting the nicotine calm me and blow out a steady sream of smoke. The smell hangs in the air, and it seems to awaken Richard a little.

He slowly opens his eyes, and looks at me with a contented smile. I observe how peaceful he looks in his post sex state, and my lips curl up into a little grin.

His eyes silently follow me, as I take a drag from the cigarette and blow out small smoke rings, which hover in the air before vanishing seconds later.

Taking a final drag, I stub the cigarette out in the small ashtray besides the bed and then pull the covers over me. It's not that I'm bothered about being naked around him, it's just that the room has become a little chilly.

Seconds later, Richards climbs under the covers too and I cannot resit the temptaton to snuggle into his embrace. I wind my arms around him and rest my head just under his chin. The feel of his naked chest touching mine sends a small shiver down my spine.

His fingers lovingly stroke my hair and he pulls me closer to him. Then, with our arms wrapped around each other, and my head still resting comfortably under his chin, I drift off into a deep slumber.

It's not until I hear movement in the room, that I realize it must be morning. Rolling over, I find the king-size bed empty, and wonder where Richard has gone.

As I prop myself up on my elbows, I smell the enticing scent of coffee and he appears holding two steaming mugs.

"Morning," he says softly, handing me a drink. "Sleep well?"

"Absolutely," I reply with a grin, taking a sip of the hot liquid. "And you?"

"With someone as beautiful as you sleeping in my arms, of course," he says, settling on the bed and kissing my head lightly.

I blush at the compliment, and shake my head slightly – averting my gaze from his.

"Thank you," I whisper in reply.

Richard says nothing more, and simply smiles at me, as I reach for my coffee cup.

"So, what time's your flight?" I inquire after a few moments of silence have passed between us.

"Around four," he replies. "And yours?"

"Half past two."

"Well, seeing as we have a good few hours yet, do you want to get something to eat?"

"That would be nice, although I seem to remember someone promising to cook breakfast for me last night," I remind facetiously.

He grins at me and nods his head. "And I'd happily oblige, only the mini-bar doesn't offer much in the way of cooking ingredients."

With another laugh, I agree that he's got a point, and suggest we find a local café instead.

When we've finished our coffee, I quickly shower, and then as Richard takes his turn to use the washroom, I dress in the clothes I was wearing the night before.

Usually, wearing something I had the previous night makes me feel a little dirty, and as though I need to go home and change right way. However, this morning, it's a tantalizing reminder of the reason I'm at this hotel in the first place, and I cannot hide the grin that spreads across my lips. It really was the most fun I've had in a long time!

When Richard returns from the washroom, his freshly dressed in a pair of casual black pants, and a dark blue shirt – the sleeves of which are rolled up to his elbows, and the top two buttons are unfastened.

The sight of his chest hair just poking out below the collar give me another flashback to last night, when I'd curled my fingers around that vary tuft of hair, and I feel the heat pool between my legs.

Maybe we should just skip breakfast and stay here instead.

As if reading my mind, Richard looks at me, and smiles devilishly, before crossing the room in one long stride.

He pushes me back, onto the bed, and firmly holds my shoulders in place, as his lips descend on mine in a heated frenzy.

Within minutes, I'm shedding the clothing I just donned, as Richard slips out of his garments too.

In contrast to the furor of our encounter took on last night, this morning our tryst is slower, and more drawn out, as we both enjoy aspects of each other's bodies we were possibly too excited to notice previously.

I take my time with kissing him, allowing my tongue to swirl around his mouth, and I taste the toothpaste he's recently used. The mintiness of it is invigorating and I find my mouth tingling from the resonance of the embrace.

However, before I can even fully begin my assault on Richard's mouth, he breaks the embrace and pushes us both further up the bed.

Then, he teasingly begins to trail his hot lips down my body, and I know I've passed the point of no return already.

When he reaches my breasts, Richard takes the left into my mouth and sucks on the nipple gently, as his other hand caresses the right breast. The stimulation causes me to moan with desire, and I quiver under him.

The admittance of wanting my body issues seems to entice Richard further, and again, his lips begin to work their way down my body, until he reaches my thighs.

As his teeth nip the tender flesh there, he gently inserts a finger into my already wet opening, and I swoon with desire.

Slowly at first, he works his finger inside me, gradually increasing the pace, as well as adding another digit.

I'm now almost at breaking point, and I cannot help the low moan that escapes my lips, as my thighs clamp around his shoulders.

However, when I'm almost reaching the point of release, Richard stops and looks at me through lust clouded eyes. Then, with a devilish grin, he bows his head to capture my lips with his own.

Once again, we're locked in a passionate embrace, and this time I allow my finger nails to claw down his back, in an indication that I'm hungry for more.

Taking the hint, Richard grabs my waist gently to pull me into a sitting position, and then he carefully turns me around so that I'm now on all fours in front of him.

I bury my head in the downy pillow, waiting eagerly for the initial thrust, but it doesn't come and is instead replaced with a sharp slap on my ass.

The contact causes me to cry out with delight, and then moments later, another swift swat follows. When the slight sting of the touch subsides, I begin anticipating the next with a wanton desire, but it doesn't come, and to my surprise, I feel his full hardness enter me from behind.

My inner core tightens around his hard shaft as he pushes me to the brink of my desire, and I know I'm going to reach climax at any moment.

It seems like perfect timing too, as I feel Richard's thrusts become more frenzied, and his grip of my waist tightens.

I beg for more, and he plunges in deeper as the waves of orgasm crash over me, then with another slap on my ass, I feel him spill his seed inside me.

After a few moments, we both catch our breath, and I turn back around and lie back on the pillow. I look across at Richard, to see him reclining back, with his hands resting behind his head and a lazy smile playing on his face.

"That was some breakfast," I comment facetiously.

Richard grins back at me in reply, and then says, "I don't think I've ever worked up such a sweat."

That afternoon, I'm on a flight back to Louisville, Kentucky, where no doubt a pile of neglected paperwork awaits me on upon my return.

The in-flight movie holds no interest for me, and I don't even think about how my cats have coped without me for the past week. Instead, all I can think about is the mysterious stranger who made me feel things I haven't since before I married Cortland.

I doubt I'll ever find someone as tantalizing as Richard again, but I know for certain, the recollection of lascivious tryst will keep me satisfied for many lonely hours with my battery operated companion.

The only hope I have left is that somewhere, out there, he is feeling the same....