Room 214: The Beginning

No sooner had the door to Room 214 closed than my gorgeous wife and her equally beautiful girlfriend were sharing a deep, probing kiss. Lisa's hands caressed, in a very familiar way, my wife's sumptuous ass while Laura returned the favor by working over her lover's incredible breasts. Being the committed voyeur that I admittedly am, I gently guided them over to the fashionable king-sized bed, even though it appeared they weren't even aware of my assistance, and found the very best place from which to watch.

Six weeks had passed since our first memorable tryst one floor up in the now famous Room 315, and what we started there was only stronger now. While I knew that a big part of the amazingly sexy show playing out before me was for my sole benefit, there could be no denying that the level of passion these two wanton goddesses were experiencing bore proof of the sort of mutual desire for one another that makes moments like this rare and otherworldly.

Laura pushed Lisa up onto the edge of the bed, but only after slipping down her shorts and already drenched panties. If I was a betting man, I'd place a very large wager that those same panties had been wet for a few hours now. Knowing that Lisa's plane arrived on time for this weekend meant that they had gotten to share almost three hours alone before meeting me. What transpired during those three hours would fuel my beloved "story time" for weeks to cum—pun intended.

The height of the bed coupled with my wife's own natural tallness allowed her a very comfortable, incredibly accessible position from which to work her magic on Lisa's sweetest spot...and work she did!

Legs over shoulders.

Face pressed in deep one moment only to be drawn back to allow long, achingly long bottom to top tongue strokes.

Lisa's groans and moans and various other sounds of appreciative expression left little doubt that Laura was driving her ever closer to orgasm. When I saw both her hands move from her breasts—where she had been adding fuel to the already-raging fire by twisting and tugging and pinching her diamond-hard nipples—and take two handfuls of Laura's thick, wild-for-me hair I knew the moment had arrived.

Lisa's deep-throated growl of extreme release was as natural and authentic as the Cheshire Cat grin on my wife's shiny face as she looked over at me and mouthed, "I love you, Husband."

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Dinner was more relaxed this time, while the anticipation of the sexual adventures awaiting us slowly built with each empty glass of Ménage à Trois White.

"Laura doesn't need any dessert since she already had something sweet before dinner!" I teased, quickly growing hard as the image of her face down between Lisa's tanned legs filled my mind.

"MMM Hmmm, and I want more dessert!" my gorgeous wife said as she looked over at her girlfriend and shared an evil grin.

My hand shot up, "Check, PLEASE!"

The short walk back to the St. Oliver was a series of gropes and kisses, with the three of us participating. But once the small elevator's doors closed, I felt two pairs of hands force me against the mirrored wall. My shirt was roughly pushed up and two mouths closed over my ridiculously sensitive nipples.

It was either push the "Stop" button and bend them both over right there in the elevator, or stop the agonizingly wonderful nipple work, so reluctantly I grabbed two handfuls of thick, curly hair—one tawny blonde, the other midnight brown—and pulled them off me, directing their faces together. Of all the hedonistic elements we shared during our stay in Room 315, nothing came close to the voyeuristic delight I reveled in watching these two goddesses kissing.

Nothing.

The sound of the elevator doors opening jarred us back to reality and we shared a quick group hug before hurrying down the narrow hallway.

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Dessert—best shared with someone you love—was first on the menu, as Laura knelt in front of Her Lisa and I knelt behind. I lifted Lisa's right leg up onto a chair to allow my needy wife better access, and she showed her thanks by leaning around the left and kissing me passionately before moving back to the delicacy awaiting her. In unison, the two of us went to work. Laura wasted no time in renewing her bottom to top tongue stroking, while I set off on a different course, making my tongue into a small dick and attacking Lisa's ass.

The diminutive, but highly appreciative recipient of our team effort moved her hands back to Laura's head as she purred, "Oh, Laura...YES!"

This spurred me on and I pushed my way in as deeply as I could manage, feeling Lisa push back onto my face. My strong hands grabbed the front of her thighs for leverage as I worked her ass over. I felt, more than saw, Lisa bend over at the waist, but refused to relinquish my task.

What I couldn't see was Lisa licking her own juices off my wife's beautiful face just before the two of them began kissing again.

Less than a minute later I heard, "Stop fooling around, Alan! It's time for you to put on your Fuckin' Shoes!"