What the Hell Am I Doing?-- Chapter 3 - Sex Stories

What the Hell Am I Doing?-- Chapter 3

... repulsive, and the thought of my doing some of the things Ben enjoyed, like my deep-throating him, was enough to make me want to toss my cookies. Happily denying him, with my voice dripping disdainfully, I uttered some last semi-pleasantries, and turned to get in my car. Juan took a last liberty, of groping my butt one last time, and he leered at me as I drove away. My hotel room, Ben, and a stiff drink could not get to me fast enough! I reached the room, and tossed my briefcase, laptop and purse on the bed before looking about, realizing Ben wasn’t there. My thoughts of Juan were so consuming I hadn’t seen the note on the table. I picked it up and read it. “Babe, I have to settle some business. I’ll be back late tonight, but if someone calls, you haven’t seen me. You know what to do….” and he signed it with his name. I twisted my lips in thought. Here I was, pissed off about being m*****ed, in a way, and I desperately wanted to talk about it. On the other hand, Ben’s note was pretty clear, he wanted, or needed to lay low. So I wouldn’t call him. But that didn’t mean I had to stew in the room all night. In fact, I freshened up, and considered changing into evening dress, but what Ben wanted me to wear was usually more revealing than what I had on, and if I was with him, I’d wear it gladly. Without him, I was a bit more timid. So I cheated and just didn’t change. I made it to the hotel bar, and sat on a barstool, smiling as a nice merlot arrived. One down and half-way on ...

... another, I was feeling better. Certainly more relaxed, and as I scanned about, I saw the usual mix of people. Business travelers, some locals in for a club or group meeting, and Juan. I winced as we made eye-contact. How long he had been there I didn’t know, but he took the glace as an invitation and he joined me. “Juan, what do you want?” I bemoaned. “I think I’m going to explore your necklace…” he replied, straight-faced. To illustrate his point, he didn’t even bother laying a hand on my knee, he just dove right at my crotch, and he started to grope me. My eyes blew wide open, and as his hand began to m***** me right there in the bar, my fingers reached for my necklace. There is was, in full view, the charm, and now Juan knew what it meant. I gasped as Juan found it, the opening, and for a moment, his fingers were in direct, electrifying contact with my sex. I was able to recover and my hand reached for his thick wrist. “Juan! Not here!” I uttered in a harsh whisper. What I had meant to say was ‘not there’, as in ‘get your hand away from there’. My heart sank. I slugged down the rest of the wine, stalling for time as Juan did remove his hand, and he then grasped me by the arm. Leading me out, he led me towards the parking lot. “I’m not getting in your car, Juan…” I told him simply. I had no intention of going anywhere he wanted. If I could stall him long enough, maybe he would simply wear out and leave me alone. Unfortunately, all he did was open the back of his car, and grab ...