The eyes of the Lioness - Sex Stories

The eyes of the Lioness

Staying in a hotel is sexy. A good hotel, that is. No matter how humdrum your life is, when you dress yourself knowing that in a few hours you will become a mysterious and sophisticated stranger strolling across some beautiful lobby, people can’t be sure you’re not some hot shot entrepreneur, oil tycoon, or secret agent. It’s fun, and feeling like the world is watching is seductive. You preen a little. I know you do. I’ve seen it a hundred times. I’m the man in the lobby with the answer to a thousand questions, who treats you like you want to be treated. I’m your Concierge. This tale goes back a few years, and a few thousand miles away. I was painfully young and single, in the middle east- which was like an alien world to me. It was going to be a difficult weekend- my usual language barrier woes would be doubled as we were hosting a meeting of the deaf community. On the plus side- the Desert Flowers were blooming. Desert Flowers were what we called the woman shaped, laundry shrouded people who shed their religious cocoons to reveal dusky skinned beauties with perfect make-up and exquisite western fashions within the sanctuary of our hotel. Imagine you live your public life wrapped in a shapeless blanket, practically invisible. Then what if that restriction is removed? Exactly- it is liberating, exhilarating palpably sensual- and the possibility of alcohol- another prohibited western staple? To say the prospect of an evening meeting old friends or meeting new people with very ...

... similar backgrounds was exciting, would be an understatement. The atmosphere was sexually charged. Two women stuck out in my memory- even then. One was a lovely young wife who I was trying to organise a pedicure treatment for. Both she and her husband were stone deaf and made my attempts at communication near impossible, as I spoke a little, but could not write a single character. Thankfully, her old friend from the deaf school had partial hearing, and she acted as translator. This translator was stunning- utterly beautiful. A cascade of lustrous black hair. Sultry almond shaped eyes like the eyes of a lioness toying with it’s prey. A wasp-waisted body with: impossibly buoyant breasts, great hips, long toned legs, and an ass made for biting. We had a moment during this encounter- simply our eyes touching, but she remained in my thoughts throughout the next couple of days. Drink started flowing. What began with a difficulty in communication became a losing battle for authority as they bonded to a street gang like mentality. The night of the gala dinner was utter chaos. Gorgeous women in incredible gowns not used to alcohol. For deaf people they made a remarkable amount of noise. And trouble. The next morning is when my experience happened. I was doing a fire walk- a security sweep through the halls for anything that shouldn’t be. I found the attractive young wife at a door with her keycard. She was wearing a flattering black cocktail dress, but was quite drunk, and frustrated ...