The Layover

Mine was not the only head to turn.

Sat atop a bar stool in the brightly lit lobby bar of the mid budget Hotel I watch as the five of them walk in. Not a cream between their collective pristine appearances as clutching trolley style matching luggage they approach, almost in formation, the reception desk where to be greeted by the fresh faced curly haired brunette in her own less visually struggling dull grey uniform greets them with a familiarity.

I spot her immediately, yet the slender framed blonde would stand out among her four colleagues, two males and two equally attractive females, even if I had not seen a photograph of her before.

There is something about her demeanour as she turns her head across her shoulder and looks in the direction of the bar that sis across the open plan lobby. Slipping my gaze away despite still being able to observe the ensemble I take a swig from the hiddenly overpriced bottle of Belgian lager, reaching to pluck a complimentary sAlted peanut from the remnants of the paltry gift in a small dish that fail to compensate for the price of the alcohol.

Away to my left the five undisguisable airline colleagues step away from the reception desk on a melee of hugs and embraces. Ironic given that three of the five, the two males and one of the women then head towards the lifts on the far side of the lobby together. Casually I observe as on another embrace the blonde steps away from an auburn haired colleague and with a smile etched across her lips, she heads with a confident stride towards the bar at which I sit while her colleague heads towards a corridor leading to ground floor accommodation.

I turn slightly towards the bar, idly viewing the vast collection of liquid bottles lined up across the back wall.

The click click strike of her heels accompanied by the sound of her trolley luggage grow nearer until she stands at my side. I notice her subtle glance to her right as she stands there her hands coming to rest on the poisoned marble surface of the bar and I note despite not turning to meet her perfectly manicured bright red nails.

“What can I get you?” A some dishevelled looking barman enquires.

“Gin… gin and slimline, please,” she replies on a softly spoken nondescript accent.

“Coming right up… beautiful,” the barman offers flashing her a smile that comes across far too forced, borderline creepy, and lacened I decided with all

the charm of a serial killer.

She does not react, a professionalism hold no doubt born of a daily even hourly need to handle such interactions as the overpowering aura of her powerful perfume invades my senses given her relative proximity.

Sensing her glance around the bar as she stands waiting for the barman to fix the simple drink I hold my silence, waiting to introduction myself to Roz Harper.

Roz had made first contact, a little over five weeks previous. A meet up had been scheduled to happen a little overtwo weeks ago but only hours before hand it had been cancelled by the stunning blonde who I knew visually from the three carefully selected photos on her very basic profile page of the discreet web site she had only joined within the last two months. A site I have been a verified member of for several years now.

“Seven pounds eighty,” the barman offers as he places the wide rimmed fishbowl style glass of clear sparkling liquid before her.

“I’ll get that for you…” I casually offer as I finally turn my attention towards the blonde, with a nod to the barman, “…pop it on my tab.”

“Why thank you,” she demurely offers.

“Pleasure,” I offer on a smile as I engage her, much to the obvious chagrin of the serial killer barman.

“Oliver…” I offer holding my simple smile to conceal the lie about my as I reveal.

myself to her whilst I soak up her natural beauty despite heavily applied make up, “…Oliver Hughes.”

“Roz… Roz Harper,” she still somewhattimidly, nervously, offers as her pale blue eyes meet mine.

“So…” I offer burying my milk sarcasm, “…what is it you do for a living Roz?”

Her gentle nervous chuckle is disarming as she glances down her perfect slender body that is squeezed in to the tailored navy flight attendant’s uniform.

“Well…” she responds a mischievously tinged smile breaking across her red lips as she relaxes just a fraction.

A little over an hour later, three more drinks consumed I narrow my eyes a little as she holds my gaze.

“Should we?” I offer as my eye-line glances across the lobby in the general direction of the bank of three elevators. “Assuming you’re comfortable.”

“Yes… I… well…” she offers a nervousness creeping across her features.

Her company had have pleasant enough, conversation had been silted to start with but as soon as we had truly broached the subject of her job, the travelling it provided her and the locations she visited albeit in the main to stay in sterile accommodation for a matter a fleeting hours she had opened up, relaxed and showed glimpses of her true personality.

Interspersed I had raised the reason for her meeting me tonight, clarified everything that both she and I expected of the night. Her tone immediately shy and hushed which was understandable given both the public circumstances and the fact that she had never arranged such a rentezvous before as it transpired.

An assumption I had already made given her relatively new profile. That fact being as much an appeal to myself as the three pictures on her fresh profile, the mandatory head and face shot, a picture of her in a uniform near identical to the one she wore as she sat at the bar next to me and a final photo obviously cropped from a wider picture in which she wore a floaty pastel pink dress at a function that looked to all intents to be a wedding.

Over messages exchanged we had progressed to suggestive and flirtatious correspondence from the outset, messages that soon built an understanding of what she sought and expected so that in turn I had gained a mutual understanding of both her limits and her level of comfort in what we proposed.

An initial face to face rendezvous arranged far sooner than others I had net through the web site, in truth I had been neither surprised or for that matter disappointed that she had cancelled weeks earlier. Such inexperience, despite her admitting to having experimented in the past, I had I often found to carry high potential in being backed out of. Confidence and bluster often lost to the fear and insecurity of reality. It was then to my reignited anticipation and surprise that Roz had contacted me only a matter of days later to suggest this evening’s date and the potential to rearrange our planned interaction.

“Only if you are comfortable,” I offer on a generally reassuring tone to her hesitancy, not wishing to push her decision for the sake of the price of one more Gin and a Tonic to calm her potentially racing mind.

She glances past me at the two bartenders who now work the slightly busier vendor, consciousness not to be overheard by them or anyone around us.

“No, I’m…” she offers looking up at me with a doe like innocent, “…I’m ready… shall we.”

The little stammer in her voice belies her attempt at steely resolve, reaching out I place my left hand over the back of her right hand. Our first physical contact.

“When we enter the room… you surrender to me…. To my control?” I offer quietly.

Roz sips the last of what remains of her drink her eyes meeting mine as she slips from the bar stool on which she sits cross legged opposite me. Looking once more around her, consciousness of being overheard, as she slips her hand from under my gentle grip she nods deliciously.

“Show me my fantasy,” she deeply whispers as she steps away from the bar and taking hold of the handle of her small travel suitcase walks confidently from the bar towards the lobby area.

Without need to acknowledge the bar staff as I turn and step away in her wake, I watch her natural sashay my eyes running up the seams of her nylon clad calves to the hem of her skirt.

Drawing level with her as we reach the waiting elevator, she reaches out and presses a red nailed delicate long finger to the chrome call button.

“What time do you need to check out?” I state quietly as we stand there waiting.

“Being picked up at six thirty am,” Roz offers facing forward herself as the doors slide open before us.

“Then we’ve got nine hours to fill,” I offer letting her step past me into the waiting lift.

Her nervous little laugh suggests she may not believe me.

As she turns to face me with the gaze of those incredible pale blue eyes a devilish little grin creeps across her bright red lips as the doors slide closed on the lobby.

************

The nervous anticipation of her breath seems to fill the roomas I stand behind her, my concentration only on her.

With my shirt and jacket removed I feel her flinch just a little as my right hand falls gently upon her right should, glancing up at the full length mirror bolted to the hotel room wall that she faces I watch her chest rise and fall behind the tight white blouse that adors her upper body. Her bottom lip bitten between her teeth as she concentrates only on her own reflection. Just as I had instructed.

“I know I asked you to bring a little ensemble…” I whisper into her ear “…perhaps you can get changed into that for me a little later.”

Roz nods ever so gently as I take my mouth from her ear. Platinum blonde hair scraped back into a tight little ponytail that hangs between her shoulder blades I had decided to request she leave on the uniform whilst walking the corridor from the lift to room 617. There had been no objection to my request as I had slipped the navy fitted jacket from her shoulders as I stood behindd her. I interpret the agreement as the first subtle submission to my will.

Tonight, as previously agreed I am in total control of her.

Stood before me now in the knee length navy skirt, tight white blouse, her posture is held high on a pair of red high heeled silettos, a simple navy white and red scarf sits still tightly tied around her elegant long neck. I am unsure of what underwear sits beneath the uniform; in time I will discover. Keeping her in her uniform screamed clipche but for me and for her the outfit representations who she is and underlines what she is about. A service uniform hurt to provide for needs, a concept given my plans for her for the night that could not be more appropriate.

As my hand slips from her shoulder, I trace my hands over the slightly course starchy cotton of her blouse. Roz holds still as my hand slowly guides her arm back behind her, instinctively as I look down whilst guiding her right arm to the small of her back. I’m delighted to see that she volunteerly mirrors my action, bringing her left arm behind her until her hands meet and her fingers interlace in the small of her back.

“I’ll take my time…” I offer, “…let me know if you feel uncomfortable at any point.”

Roz simply nods once more; I had not requested her silence but in the nervous intensity of the moment it is perhaps expected and only serves to heighten my own anticipation.

Leaving her hands diligently in situation I take the roll of thick black tape in my left hand, finding the edge of the tape I peel the tape away from itself. In careful planning of the night Roz herself had chosen tape over the options of cuffs and rope I had offered her. To her mind tape was ‘less intrusive’ I know differently, equally I know that the contents of my own suitcase sat behind the slide door of the wardrobe contains a multiitude of alternative methods of restraint that I will seek to introduce the young blonde to over the course of the night.

Holding herarms away from her body I began to wrap the tape around the cuffs of her white blouse. Hearing her sharp intake of breath as I wrap the tape three times around her wrists before tearing the tape, confidently knowing the strength of adherens will be sufficient enough to hold her wrists together.

Stepping back, I take no time to offer young Roz a reprieve from the circumstances she now finds herself in. She remains silent as I tear of the lip of the tape from the roll once more and slowly begin to wrap the tape tightly around her upper arms just above her elbows. Feeling the increased level of restraint, she lets go of a shuddering exhaustle as I ensure the tape holds firm to her arms and that the strip of tape beneath her should blades holds firm to itself, setting a rigid bond.

Hearing her heavy breath I contemplate just how long she had held the breath in her lungs, her arms fidgeting slightly as if to test the tight restraint she now finds both her wrists and arms in. Looking up at her reflection in the mirror I note the flicker of her eyes set among a slightly concerned look that knits across her browser. The desires she had expressed slowly becoming a reality.

“How’s that feel?” I offer from behind her.

“Good,” she softly offers, “A little tight but it’s… it’s Ok.”

“Let’s address those legs then,” I state in immediate response, rolling with her cooperation whilst eager to press ahead with my own desires of the slender young blonde.

Roz does not respond as with a final check of the restraint to her arms I knee behind her, my eyes immediately drawn once more to her toned calves wrapped in light caramel colour nylon that sheens in the dim light of the hotel rooms reading lamps. I glide a finger down the darker seam of her tight calendar before my left hand taps gently against her left leg. Instinctively she reacts and brings her feet held up in red high heels together from the slightly parted gait she holds.

“Stand still,” Iconfidently instruct, before peeling another length of black tape from the roll. Applying the tape first to her left shin I wrap the tape across the backs of her legs just above her ankles and then proceed to wrap the tape three times around her legs. Knowing as I tear the tape from the roll that I have the pretty twenty one year old now immobilised.

Standing I place the roll of tape upon the edge of the perfectly made double bed covered in pristine white sheets. As I turn, I observe her from behind noting the simple but effective tape work that now holds her at my mercy. My eye-line drifts to her reflection in the mirror her expression softening a little as she stars at her own reflection.

“Looks like I have you where I want you,” I state quietly as I approach her, stepping between her and the mirror and blocking her line of sight of herself.

“You… you do,” the blonde offers softly still looking ahead before I tilt her head back a little by placing my left hand gently under her petite jaw.

“Then it’s time to truly take control,” I all but growl whilst pressing my thumb firmly over her bottom lip as I watch her swallow at my comment.

“I’m helpless to stop you?” Roz replies looking up at me, holding my gaze.

My only response is to reach out and start to unfasten the buttons of her blouse, the garment pulls teach across her ample breasts by the manner in which her shoulders pull back from the restraint to her arms. As each button comes apart with relative ease I glance down to take in the white and ivory colour bra that holds up her lightly tanned excite cleavage.

Undoing the buttons just past her breasts to reveal a hint of her toned stomach she keeps her gaze on me.

“You surrender to me?” I offer reiterating my sentiment from the lobby bar as I let go of her jaw and move around her slender frame.

Roz meekly nods, her exposed chest rising and gently falling before she meekly adds, “I do.”

“Then let’sget you on your knees” I offer on a gruff whisper before placing my hands firmly upon her slender hips.

In demonstration of my physical prowess over her much lighter weaker frame I pick her up by the wait causing her to audible gasp.

“Pick your feet up,” I instruct.

She instantly obeys my command as holding her only and inch or two from the ground I take a step back as she bends her bound legs at the knees before I gently lower her back to the dark grey carpeted floor. I set the blonde back down on her knees before the mirror and move deliberately slowly back around her.

Stood before her dressed in only dark grey trousers she rests back on her haunches as I block her own view to the mirror. As she fixes me once more with her blue eyes, I let my own eyes fall over her bright red lips, her long neck which the scarf still wraps and her exposed cleavage. I am so hard for her already by virtue of her submission thus far as I gently ease down the zip fly of my trousers.

Raz’s eye-line falls upon my crotch as I slip my erect dick through my fly to hold it mere inches from her beautiful features. She does not flinch she does not protest as knelt restrained before me I slip my left hand into platinum blonde hair just beneath her long ponytail.

“You appreciate what I expect” I quietly state.

As her eyes look up at me Roz raises from Her haunches her mouth slowly falling open as her eyes look up to me. In the same moment I take a step forward and guide my dick past her red lips with my free hand as I feel the warmth of her mouth close around me. Her eyes falling shut as her lips press around my shake.

As my left hand slips across the base of the back of her head I bring her gently forward and feel her lips slip towards the base of my shaft.

Immediately my hips start to gently slip back and forth as she gives me her mouth on her first true submission of the night. Moments later despite the grip I maintain I allow her to take a semblance of control. Allowing her to freely move her head back and forth and commence the oral stimulation I desire.

Five minutes later I feel her baulking as with her face held pressed to my crotch both my hands clamp against the back of her head, she has no option but to accept my control. Her platinum blonde ponytail rapidly coming undone against the hair tie that holds it away from her face.

“Good girl… good girl… Five… four… three… two…” I offer on a count down that had commenced on fifteen.

As I pull back, I hear her gargled gasp for breath through heavy spottle, she had barely handled the count of ten moments earlier the demonstration of my control had been adequate enough. I allow her several beats to regain her composition, looking down she gasps for breath but holds a silence otherwise. Her own heavy saliva running from her jaw dripping down onto her ample breasts and the white and ivory lace detail bra.

“Now let’s see if you can make mecum?”

Roz breathlessly nods her understanding, even as she does so my hand slips to the back of her head wrapping her dishevelled pony toil around my hand tightly as she parts her mouth once more and I slip myself back into her mouth, I feel her hollow her cheeks and take me deep, her head starting to move with a determination to achieve the feat herself.

Allowing her to attempt, within minutes the steady gwack gwack sounds that emanate from her mouth are interspersed by gaps as she swallows down her own saliva. I start to take full control, my hips thrusting in unison with the bobbing of her head as she holds herself upright knelt before me. Speeding my style, I wrap her hair tighter pulling her towards me my right hand steams her left shoulder as I start to fuck her mouth pressing deep towards her throat with every thrust.

I hear the soft muted protest, feel her retch against my invasion as both my hands clamp over the back her head. Roz struggles to accommodateme, her upper body heaving as I continue to face fuck her. A brutality falling over my use of her helpless disposition, as I hold her against me, I trigger her gag reflux once more.

Pulling back, I slip my dick from her young mouth, tears streak her face, heavy eye makes up trickling down her flushed skin. Her heavy make-up smeared as she gasps for desperate breath into her lungs.