Daddy Issues

Chapter 2-2

My cousin-s***h-BFF Carmen and I had taken the train to New York to spend a weekend there last summer doing touristy stuff: shopping, having dinner, seeing a Broadway show, going clubbing, et cetera. But after dinner and a show, she fell ill and we ended up returning to our hotel room early. Not quite ready to call it a night myself (or spend the rest of the evening listening to Carmen barf up her dinner), I went downstairs to the hotel bar, figuring I’d have a few drinks while not being too far from my ailing cousin in case she needed me.

Paul was at the bar nursing a glass of whiskey when I took the vacant seat beside him and we struck up a conversation almost immediately. Despite the fact that we talked and drank for probably close to half an hour (on his tab), I didn’t learn much about him aside from his first name and that he was in town to tie up some business with the realtor who managed some property he owned in the city. When he signaled to the bartender that he was ready to settle the tab, I reached for my wallet.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that,” I said. By this time, I was more than a little drunk. Not falling-off-the-barstool drunk, but drunk enough that I wouldn’t trust myself behind the wheel of a car or to make any smart decisions.

“I know I don’t have to,” he said, rising from his seat, “but I want to.”

We left the bar together and were waiting in the lobby for the elevator when he leaned into me and whispered, “Come to my room.” I wasn’t sure if he was asking or telling. Whatever the case, I didn’t hesitate to follow him onto the elevator and get off with him on the eighth floor. He was handsome and suave, and I was bored and horny.

Once we were in his room with the door closed and locked behind us, I felt the need to tell him, “I’m not a prostitute.”

He laughed a little as he emptied his pockets onto the nightstand. “I didn’t think you were.”

“I mean, I don’t go around picking up guys in hotel bars.”

He smiled as he removed his suit jacket. “Neither do I.”

He got undressed quicker than I did, probably because he was able to handle his liquor better than I was, and sat on the edge of the king-sized bed to roll on a condom. When I got my shorts off, he tossed a tube of lube to me that I, surprisingly, caught. Paul stroked his hard, thick c**k while watching me lube my ass and when I was done, he motioned for me to come to him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said as I stood before him, between his legs. “I almost hate to touch you.”

But he did touch me, putting his hands on my hips for a moment before sliding them back to feel my ass. I climbed onto his lap, straddling him before lowering myself onto his c**k. He fell back on the bed, pulling me down with him for a kiss. I rode Paul’s c**k like a jockey, grinding against him while he gripped the cheeks of my ass. I loved having him inside of me and he seemed to love being inside of me. Eventually, he flipped me onto my back, hooked my legs over his thighs, and f****d me even harder, slamming into me with such force that I felt dizzy. When he came, I felt him shake as if a chill had gone through him before he exhaled and relaxed. I came shortly thereafter just as he was pulling out of me. He stared at me with those haunting gray eyes and smiled before leaning down and kissing me very gently on the lips.

The time Paul and I spent together was amazing and only came to an end when I received a frantic call on my cell phone from Carmen who was freaking out because she didn’t know where I was. After assuring my cousin that I’d be back by her side in a few minutes, I ended the call and told Paul I had to go. As I got dressed, I let him know how much I enjoyed being with him. He said he enjoyed being with me, we kissed, and I left his room and never saw him again.