Eros Hotel
Part 1
It was very hot. Michael had just returned to his room. He had taken his group of adult creative writing students to the beach. They’d swum, of course, but also discussed how they felt in the merciless Greek sun, how to describe the colours they saw in the clear sea, and how to approach their next essay, entitled “The Waves.
Michael had undressed. His clothes had been soaked with perspiration. He had gone to bed, slept for about twenty minutes and woken up refreshed. He got up, walked across the room and stood in front of the large window that led to the balcony.
The late afternoon sun was still beating down pretty hard. The heat, though overwhelming, rather excited him. He loved how it felt, enveloping him like a robe. He could still feel the sweat still trickling down his back. It tickled the crack in his ass.
Michael stood in front of the window, naked, as he most loved to be. He was not ashamed of his body. It was far from the much-vaunted “perfection” of sports, films and advertisements. But he knew many people still found him attractive, and those who didn’t held no interest for him.
Applicants for his courses, which he held in Greece each summer, were mostly undergraduates, though some were older. He reflected on the night he had spent the previous weekend with some of the students. A memorable night, a night of attraction, fun, laughter and intimacy. An erotic night.
His thoughts turned to Nicole, the beautiful transgender girl who was beginning to show promise in her writing, but also in erotic games; David, the handsome athlete with the muscular body and the firm buttocks, a great admirer of the god Hermes, and who he had initiated into the pleasures of sex with another man; Gabrielle, the author in the making with a very personal style, large eyes and round, proud breasts; and Diane, all voluptuous curves, with her eager mouth, mischievous and sexy, who knew how to sculpt an erotic tale.
Michael’s sex is already thirsting for more such games, if only there are takers. His thoughts also turn to another, GaĆ«lle, whom he doesn’t know yet, but who, judging from the essays she’s submitted so far and her exchanges during class, has a sense of humour and a vivid imagination. She seems to have more life experience than some of the others and he finds her outgoing, funny, and also sexy. He would like to get to know her better. It’s clear that she has a gift with language; he would like to see if she also has the gift of tongues.
Suddenly Michael’s eyes are drawn to a fleeting movement in one of the windows opposite. The rooms in these two wings of the hotel are shaded by large, beautiful eucalyptus trees. But in the depths of the room opposite, silhouetted against the tall mirror on the wall, he sees a man and a woman dancing.
Both are naked, like him, she with lush red hair that covers her shoulders, forming a voluptuous frame for her small peach-shaped breasts; he with close-cropped hair, a smooth chest with firm nipples, the abs and legs of an athlete and a penis surrounded by thick black hair.
Their bodies seem to be oiled, they shine so in the reflected light. They dance slowly, sensually, sometimes body to body, sometimes apart, in a kind of tango, that most erotic of dances, their movements rhythmic, languorous, peaceful but with an intensity and mutual attraction that is almost palpable. They gaze into each other’s eyes, anticipating each other’s wishes and intentions. It is beautiful, evocative.
The woman moves towards the man, strokes his hair with her long fingers and bright blue-varnished nails. She pulls him gently towards her, dropping her hand to his shoulder. She seems to whisper a few words and he smiles, a relaxed smile, bright, kind, full of happiness. She takes his hand and brings it up to her mouth, kissing it, each finger in turn, then sucking on the thumb, the fine lips of her somewhat masculine mouth pouting as she does so. He lets her do as she wishes, responding simply to her desires.
Michael sees the woman stop sucking and move her lover’s hand down towards her sex. She spreads her legs slightly and then inserts the wet thumb. Again she murmurs something and the man removes his hand to savour the juices, then wets it again with his saliva and moves back to the woman’s thighs again. Michael sees her shiver as he begins to rub, gently, unhurriedly, the welcoming yet dignified sex.
Now the man leans against the woman, pulling her against his body and massaging her vulva more firmly. She says something, smiling, he smiles back and kisses her on the mouth, while speeding up his rubbing. His finger is obviously in his companion’s cunt and Michael has the impression that she loves it. She gradually speeds up the movement of her buttocks, and Michael looks at her half-open mouth, panting.
The oiled bodies slide against each other, again she speaks and now he lifts his partner bodily, his hands under her buttocks. Michael just catches a glimpse of the erect sex, long and slender, silhouetted against the wall mirror, before the man, standing in the middle of the room, simple impales the woman on his penis, bending his knees slightly to better support and penetrate her.
Michael imagines the sensation of having his own sex surrounded by that moist, fierce vagina, the woman’s muscular legs around his hips, and the rhythm – at first slow, to get used to each other and let the passion rise and the juices flow, then a gradual acceleration, his mouth glued to his lover’s.
He imagines breathing in the aromatic breath and the musky scent of a redhead’s sex, he hears the whispers and the soft laughter, feels in his own body the gasps and the vibrations of this magnificent woman, feels the small firm breasts touching his chest with their pointed, almost black nipples. In his imagination he is this virile man, strong but graceful, carrying the woman towards a table and placing her there without coming out of her. He watches as the man kisses the woman with ardour and she elegantly puts her arms round his neck to pull herself as close as she can and deepen his penetration.
As Michael observes their lovemaking he touches his erect penis. It excites him to see their movements speeding up. Both their mouths are open, both are panting. Then the man starts coming right out of her after each thrust, and entering her anew: he comes out, he enters, he comes out, he enters, his lubricated sex penetrating easily, sliding between the eager loins of this woman in heat, who moans with pleasure at each fresh penetration.
Michael would love to feel that long, thin, hard sex in his own mouth; he imagines how it would be to suck it until it gushes.
Now he can see that the two lovers are both leaning back and pushing their pelvises forward to deepen the penetration, the rhythm is still accelerating, the woman moans faster and faster, louder and louder, the man suddenly embraces her with all his strength, pressing his hot mouth to hers, and Michael can hear them give voice to an orgasm that seems to make time stand still, a moment of eternity during which the two bodies tremble against each other in a magical, sensual, joyful fusion.
All this time, all during this joyful coupling, Michael has been gently caressing his own cock. It feels extremely hard and sensitive. He imagines the woman sucking his silky smooth glans, packed with nerve endings that react to her touch. He feels not far from coming himself.
Suddenly he sees the woman, still lying on the table, her legs still around the man’s waist, turn towards him. She has seen him! It doesn’t matter – on the contrary, so much the better, it excites him even more. He looks straight at her and continues stroking his erect member, lubricating it with his own free-flowing juices as he pants ever harder.
But look! with one imperious hand, she signals to him to stop. With one finger she beckons to him to come and join them in their room. Surprised, a little apprehensive, but gladly, Michael bows in acknowledgement of the invitation, takes his robe and leaves the room.
To be continued…