The rain was hammering the city streets when I ducked into the hotel bar, soaked and shivering in my thin dress. It clung to my curves like a second skin, the fabric translucent in places where the water had won. I hadn’t planned on this—running from a canceled dinner date, heels clicking against wet pavement—but the moment I ordered a whiskey neat and felt the burn slide down my throat, something shifted.
He was sitting two stools away. Tall, dark hair damp from the rain too, eyes the color of storm clouds. He didn’t smile at first. Just watched as I crossed my legs, the hem of my dress riding up my thigh. I could feel his gaze like fingers tracing my skin.
“Bad night?” he asked, voice low and rough, like gravel under boots.
“Getting better,” I replied, meeting his eyes. Heat pooled low in my belly instantly. I wasn’t usually this bold, but the storm outside matched the one building inside me.
We talked. Or rather, we circled each other with words—small talk laced with something sharper. His hand brushed mine when he passed me a fresh drink. Electricity. By the time he leaned in and murmured, “My room is upstairs. No strings. Just tonight,” my panties were already damp, and it wasn’t from the rain.
I said yes.
The elevator ride was torture. His body pressed close behind me, one hand resting lightly on my hip. I could feel the hard line of his cock against my ass through his slacks. When the doors opened, I barely made it to his room before his mouth was on mine—hungry, demanding. He tasted like whiskey and rain.
Inside, he didn’t bother with lights. The city glow filtered through the curtains as he backed me against the wall, hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my soaked dress higher. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he growled, dropping to his knees. His fingers hooked my panties and tugged them down. I stepped out, heart pounding.
His tongue found me immediately—hot, wet, relentless. He licked slow circles around my clit, then sucked gently, two thick fingers sliding inside me with ease. I gasped, threading my fingers through his hair, hips rocking against his face. The sounds were obscene: my soft moans mixing with the wet slide of his mouth. My legs trembled as the orgasm built fast and sharp. I came hard, crying out, thighs clamping around his head while pleasure crashed through me in waves.
He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark with need. “Bed. Now.”
I barely had time to catch my breath before he had me bent over the edge of the mattress. The cool sheets against my breasts, ass raised for him. I heard his belt, the rustle of fabric, then the blunt head of his cock nudging my entrance. He was thick—stretching me perfectly as he pushed in with one long thrust.
“Oh god…” I moaned, pushing back to take every inch. He filled me completely, hips snapping forward in a steady, punishing rhythm. One hand gripped my hip, the other reached around to circle my clit again. The angle was perfect—every stroke hitting that deep spot that made my toes curl.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, voice breaking. “So wet for me.”
I could only whimper in response, lost in the slap of skin on skin, the way my body clenched around him. He fucked me harder, deeper, until I was babbling—please, yes, don’t stop. The second orgasm hit me like lightning, rippling through my core, milking his cock as I shook beneath him.
He followed soon after, burying himself to the hilt with a low, guttural sound, pulsing hot inside me.
We collapsed together, breathing ragged, bodies slick with sweat and rain. No promises. No names exchanged beyond first ones whispered in the dark. Just the storm outside and the quiet satisfaction of a perfect, filthy detour.
When I slipped out hours later, the rain had stopped. But the ache between my thighs lingered all the way home—a delicious reminder.
submitted by /u/Jamie-Raet
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