05-09-2026, 07:42 AM
Continue Second Hotel Meeting – Night One
The lie had been simple and effective.
Pooja told her parents that she had a mandatory two-day corporate offsite in another city. The children were already at her parents’ house with packed bags and excited faces. No one questioned her. At 7:40 p.m. she left her own home with a small trolley bag that contained three bold one-piece dresses, two sets of Victoria’s Secret lingerie, a pair of thin black leggings, a tight crop top, high heels, and the purple wrap dress from the first night as a spare.
The hotel was a quiet 7-star property on the edge of the city, all dark wood, soft lighting, and thick carpets that swallowed the sound of her heels. Matteo had checked in earlier. When she messaged him from the lobby he replied with only the room number and the words:
**Door is open. Come straight up.**
She walked down the long corridor with her heart beating hard against her ribs. The suite door was indeed ajar. She pushed it open and stepped inside.
The room was larger than the previous one — a wide living area, a dining table, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a massive bed already turned down. Matteo stood near the window in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The moment the door clicked shut behind her he crossed the space in three long strides.
There was no small talk.
He took her face in both hands and kissed her deeply, tongue sliding into her mouth with slow, deliberate hunger. The dark lipstick she had applied carefully smeared across both their mouths within seconds. His hands moved down her back, gripped her ass through the simple dress she had worn for travel, and pulled her hard against him so she could feel he was already thick and ready.
**Matteo** (against her lips):
Two full days. No children. No interruptions. You’re mine until Monday morning.
**Pooja** (breathless):
I know. I planned everything for this.
He released her only long enough for her to step back and open her bag. She pulled out a deep emerald-green one-piece with a plunging neckline and high-cut hips. Without shyness she stripped off the travel dress and stood in front of him in only her heels while she stepped into the new outfit. The fabric clung to every curve — the heavy weight of her breasts, the soft dip of her waist, the full roundness of her hips and ass. She adjusted the thin straps, smoothed the material down, and looked at him.
**Pooja**:
Take photos first. I want to remember how I looked before you ruin this dress.
Matteo’s eyes darkened. He took his phone and directed her.
She posed against the window, one hand on the glass, chest pushed forward.
She turned and looked over her shoulder so the high-cut back framed the lower curve of her ass.
She sat on the edge of the bed with her legs slightly open.
She knelt on the mattress and arched.
Each time the camera clicked he gave a low sound of approval. After more than a dozen photographs he put the phone down and walked to her.
---
### Thirty Minutes of Slow Foreplay
He did not rush.
He stood behind her and kissed the side of her neck, open-mouthed and slow, while his hands slid up from her waist to cup her breasts through the thin fabric. He found her nipples and rolled them between his fingers until they stood out hard against the emerald material. Then he moved to her ear, biting the lobe gently before sucking it. Pooja’s head fell back against his shoulder.
He turned her, kissed her again — deeper this time, spoiling what remained of her lipstick completely — and walked her backward until her thighs hit the bed. He guided her to sit, then knelt between her legs.
For a long time he only kissed and sucked the soft skin of her inner thighs, moving higher by centimetres. When he finally reached the centre of her he pressed his mouth over the fabric of the one-piece and breathed heat against her already wet pussy. She gasped. He licked her through the material until a dark patch spread, then hooked two fingers under the crotch and pulled it aside.
The first direct contact of his tongue made her hips jerk.
He ate her slowly and thoroughly — long flat strokes, focused suction on her clit, two fingers sliding inside and curling upward. He kept the same unhurried rhythm for nearly twenty minutes while she trembled and moaned above him. When she came the first time it was with a broken cry and a hard pulse around his fingers. He did not stop. He licked her through it until she had to push at his head, oversensitive.
Only then did he stand, strip off his own clothes, and free his cock. It was already fully hard, thick, heavily veined, the head dark and wet.
---
### First Round – Approximately Fifty Minutes
He did not remove the one-piece yet.
He pushed the thin straps off her shoulders, freed her breasts, and left the rest of the garment bunched around her waist. Then he laid her back, hooked her knees over his elbows, and pushed inside her in one long, continuous thrust.
**Pooja** (voice already high):
Ahh— fuck… I forgot how thick you are…
He fucked her in that deep missionary position with steady, powerful strokes, watching her breasts bounce with every impact. The emerald fabric stayed bunched at her waist, framing the place where their bodies joined. After a long stretch he pulled out, turned her onto her side, lifted one leg high, and entered her again from behind. The new angle made her fist the sheets.
**Matteo** (low, close to her ear):
Still so tight. Still taking every inch like you were made for it.
**Pooja**:
Harder… please… I’ve been empty since the last time…
He gave her harder. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the suite. When he finally pulled the one-piece the rest of the way down her legs and threw it aside, she was fully naked except for her heels. He moved her through position after position without ever fully leaving her body:
- Doggy on the edge of the bed, one hand in her hair, the other spanking her ass in sharp, rhythmic slaps.
- Her on top, riding him with her hands braced on his chest while he sucked and bit her breasts.
- Standing beside the bed, one of her legs hooked high over his arm while he thrust upward.
- Back to missionary with her knees pressed to her shoulders so he could grind against her cervix.
She came the second time while he was behind her, a long shaking orgasm that made her drop her face into the mattress and cry out loudly into the expensive sheets. He fucked her through it and kept going.
The entire round lasted close to fifty minutes. His stamina had not lessened. When he finally pulled out it was only to stroke himself twice and finish across her face and the upper curve of her breasts. Thick ropes of cum landed on her lips, her cheeks, her chin, and the soft slope of her tits. The quantity shocked her — more than she remembered, heavy and warm.
She lay there breathing hard, eyes open, watching the white streaks slowly slide down her skin. One slow drop reached the corner of her mouth. She licked it without thinking.
**Pooja** (voice rough, almost wondering):
There’s so much… it’s still coming out of you.
Matteo looked down at her — messy hair, ruined lipstick, cum on her face and breasts, legs still open, the emerald one-piece lying forgotten on the floor — and gave a dark, satisfied smile.
**Matteo**:
Two full days. That was only the first round.
Outside the heavy curtains the city continued its night. Inside the suite, Pooja wiped a streak of cum from her cheek with one finger, looked at it, and then looked back up at the man who had just claimed her again.
She was already wet for the next one.
---
The lie had been simple and effective.
Pooja told her parents that she had a mandatory two-day corporate offsite in another city. The children were already at her parents’ house with packed bags and excited faces. No one questioned her. At 7:40 p.m. she left her own home with a small trolley bag that contained three bold one-piece dresses, two sets of Victoria’s Secret lingerie, a pair of thin black leggings, a tight crop top, high heels, and the purple wrap dress from the first night as a spare.
The hotel was a quiet 7-star property on the edge of the city, all dark wood, soft lighting, and thick carpets that swallowed the sound of her heels. Matteo had checked in earlier. When she messaged him from the lobby he replied with only the room number and the words:
**Door is open. Come straight up.**
She walked down the long corridor with her heart beating hard against her ribs. The suite door was indeed ajar. She pushed it open and stepped inside.
The room was larger than the previous one — a wide living area, a dining table, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a massive bed already turned down. Matteo stood near the window in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The moment the door clicked shut behind her he crossed the space in three long strides.
There was no small talk.
He took her face in both hands and kissed her deeply, tongue sliding into her mouth with slow, deliberate hunger. The dark lipstick she had applied carefully smeared across both their mouths within seconds. His hands moved down her back, gripped her ass through the simple dress she had worn for travel, and pulled her hard against him so she could feel he was already thick and ready.
**Matteo** (against her lips):
Two full days. No children. No interruptions. You’re mine until Monday morning.
**Pooja** (breathless):
I know. I planned everything for this.
He released her only long enough for her to step back and open her bag. She pulled out a deep emerald-green one-piece with a plunging neckline and high-cut hips. Without shyness she stripped off the travel dress and stood in front of him in only her heels while she stepped into the new outfit. The fabric clung to every curve — the heavy weight of her breasts, the soft dip of her waist, the full roundness of her hips and ass. She adjusted the thin straps, smoothed the material down, and looked at him.
**Pooja**:
Take photos first. I want to remember how I looked before you ruin this dress.
Matteo’s eyes darkened. He took his phone and directed her.
She posed against the window, one hand on the glass, chest pushed forward.
She turned and looked over her shoulder so the high-cut back framed the lower curve of her ass.
She sat on the edge of the bed with her legs slightly open.
She knelt on the mattress and arched.
Each time the camera clicked he gave a low sound of approval. After more than a dozen photographs he put the phone down and walked to her.
---
### Thirty Minutes of Slow Foreplay
He did not rush.
He stood behind her and kissed the side of her neck, open-mouthed and slow, while his hands slid up from her waist to cup her breasts through the thin fabric. He found her nipples and rolled them between his fingers until they stood out hard against the emerald material. Then he moved to her ear, biting the lobe gently before sucking it. Pooja’s head fell back against his shoulder.
He turned her, kissed her again — deeper this time, spoiling what remained of her lipstick completely — and walked her backward until her thighs hit the bed. He guided her to sit, then knelt between her legs.
For a long time he only kissed and sucked the soft skin of her inner thighs, moving higher by centimetres. When he finally reached the centre of her he pressed his mouth over the fabric of the one-piece and breathed heat against her already wet pussy. She gasped. He licked her through the material until a dark patch spread, then hooked two fingers under the crotch and pulled it aside.
The first direct contact of his tongue made her hips jerk.
He ate her slowly and thoroughly — long flat strokes, focused suction on her clit, two fingers sliding inside and curling upward. He kept the same unhurried rhythm for nearly twenty minutes while she trembled and moaned above him. When she came the first time it was with a broken cry and a hard pulse around his fingers. He did not stop. He licked her through it until she had to push at his head, oversensitive.
Only then did he stand, strip off his own clothes, and free his cock. It was already fully hard, thick, heavily veined, the head dark and wet.
---
### First Round – Approximately Fifty Minutes
He did not remove the one-piece yet.
He pushed the thin straps off her shoulders, freed her breasts, and left the rest of the garment bunched around her waist. Then he laid her back, hooked her knees over his elbows, and pushed inside her in one long, continuous thrust.
**Pooja** (voice already high):
Ahh— fuck… I forgot how thick you are…
He fucked her in that deep missionary position with steady, powerful strokes, watching her breasts bounce with every impact. The emerald fabric stayed bunched at her waist, framing the place where their bodies joined. After a long stretch he pulled out, turned her onto her side, lifted one leg high, and entered her again from behind. The new angle made her fist the sheets.
**Matteo** (low, close to her ear):
Still so tight. Still taking every inch like you were made for it.
**Pooja**:
Harder… please… I’ve been empty since the last time…
He gave her harder. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the suite. When he finally pulled the one-piece the rest of the way down her legs and threw it aside, she was fully naked except for her heels. He moved her through position after position without ever fully leaving her body:
- Doggy on the edge of the bed, one hand in her hair, the other spanking her ass in sharp, rhythmic slaps.
- Her on top, riding him with her hands braced on his chest while he sucked and bit her breasts.
- Standing beside the bed, one of her legs hooked high over his arm while he thrust upward.
- Back to missionary with her knees pressed to her shoulders so he could grind against her cervix.
She came the second time while he was behind her, a long shaking orgasm that made her drop her face into the mattress and cry out loudly into the expensive sheets. He fucked her through it and kept going.
The entire round lasted close to fifty minutes. His stamina had not lessened. When he finally pulled out it was only to stroke himself twice and finish across her face and the upper curve of her breasts. Thick ropes of cum landed on her lips, her cheeks, her chin, and the soft slope of her tits. The quantity shocked her — more than she remembered, heavy and warm.
She lay there breathing hard, eyes open, watching the white streaks slowly slide down her skin. One slow drop reached the corner of her mouth. She licked it without thinking.
**Pooja** (voice rough, almost wondering):
There’s so much… it’s still coming out of you.
Matteo looked down at her — messy hair, ruined lipstick, cum on her face and breasts, legs still open, the emerald one-piece lying forgotten on the floor — and gave a dark, satisfied smile.
**Matteo**:
Two full days. That was only the first round.
Outside the heavy curtains the city continued its night. Inside the suite, Pooja wiped a streak of cum from her cheek with one finger, looked at it, and then looked back up at the man who had just claimed her again.
She was already wet for the next one.
---
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