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My name is Paul. I'm a thirty-four-year-old man from Massachusetts.  I work for a company that manufactures, installs and tests industr...

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One Night Stand

My name is Paul. I'm a thirty-four-year-old man from Massachusetts. 

I work for a company that manufactures, installs and tests industrial braking systems, couplings and bearings. My job requires extensive travel around the country, approximately two hundred days a year. 

I am not, nor have I ever been, married. Because of the fact that I work a lot and travel extensively, my sex life is very boring. I spend quite a bit of time in airports and hotels. 

I eat dinner alone and spend most nights on the road ordering room service and watching television.

In early 2018, I had to travel to Houston, Texas on business. After Hurricane Harvey struck, some of our high-pressure water couplings at an industrial facility failed. 

We had sent two men down there a month before to find out what the problem was. We deduced that they had neglected to replace gaskets at required intervals, thus some of our couplings failed due to the massive influx of water by the storm. 

After a few months of back and forth with the blame game, the company that owned the facility and my company decided to upgrade the couplings and share the cost. 

I was at their corporate headquarters in Houston and traveling back and forth to the facility for approximately ten days. 

My trip was finally over, and I was flying home the next morning. It was a Friday night and I had Saturday off, so I planned on sleeping in and booked an early afternoon flight.

The company's headquarters was about three miles from the hotel that I was staying at. It had been a long ten days and I was looking forward to a relaxing night in my room, dinner and a good night's sleep. 

As I stepped outside to hail a cab, I noticed that there was a woman standing in the same spot. 

I could tell that she was a businesswoman by the way that she was dressed. She was older, in her early to mid-forties, I'd say. 

She was attractive but looked her age. She had shoulder-length dark auburn hair and was wearing a business suit.

As the cab approached, we both hailed it. It turned out that she was staying at a hotel two blocks from mine, so we decided to share it. It was rush hour, and the ride to the hotel took almost thirty minutes. 

During the ride, we struck up a conversation. 

She told me that her name was Diane and that she was born and raised in Delaware but lived in Illinois. 

She was divorced and had three children. Two daughters, both of whom were married and had kids of their own, and a son who was serving in US Navy in Florida. 

She was a commercial real estate broker with a company based out of Chicago and was visiting the same company that I was. They were interested in selling a piece of property that they owned in Louisiana, and she was brokering the deal.

Right before we reached our hotels, she took a piece of paper out of her case and wrote on it. We arrived my hotel first and, against her protestations, I paid for the entire cab ride. 

As I was exiting, she handed me the folded piece of paper that she had written on. I put it in my pocket and proceeded to my room. When I got there, I decided to read her note. 

She wrote that she didn't like discussing personal things in a cab and wanted to know if I'd have a drink with her in the lounge in her hotel later and wrote down her room number. 

She said that she didn't like giving out her cell number and that If I was interested, to call her at the hotel at eight o'clock.

I wasn't sure if I would call her or not. 

I was looking forward to a quiet night in my room and my flight home the next day. At the same time, the last nine nights in my room had been boring, and I was intrigued by her, so I decided to call. 

When she answered, she said that she was glad that I called her and asked me to me her in the lounge at eight forty-five. She'd be sitting at the table in the far left-hand corner and was looking forward to seeing me.

Normally I wouldn't do things like that and was actually wondering if she'd even be there, but her hotel was only two blocks away and it was a nice night for a walk.

When I got there, she was sitting at the table, she waved to me and I went over and sat down next to her.

She was wearing a dark medium length skirt with a light pink blouse, with top three buttons open. I noticed the soft inner curve of her relative large breast and the dark lace of a bra.

"You paid for the cab so I'm buying the drinks," she said. "What'll you have?"

"I'll have a beer," I replied. "I can get my own."

Sternly, she replied, "I'm buying the drinks, Paul, not negotiable."

I noticed that she was drinking the first of many orange drinks that she'd have that night. It was in a fancy looking glass with a cherry and a lemon. 

When I asked her what it was, she said that it was called a Hurricane. 

When I asked her what was in it, she said it contained both dark and light rum mixed with fruit juice. My first thought was how ironic it was that she was drinking something with that name in Houston, Texas. 

She then said that she was ordering food and asked me what I wanted. I was craving chili with tacos, so that's what I ordered. She has a small pasta dish with a salad.

The bar was lightly lit, and there were very few people in it. There were a few guys sitting at the bar watching a basketball game and a couple at another table on the other side of the lounge. 

We spent over two hours talking about just about everything from her life growing up, to my company and what we do. She also told me that she had finished her business and that she too was going home in the morning. 

I don't look at my watch when I'm with someone because I think that it's rude, so I took a quick glance at the clock on the wall.

It was after eleven o'clock and by now Diane was on her third hurricane and ordered one more. She wasn't slurring but was clearly getting intoxicated. 

The drunker she got, the more she talked and the more flirtatious she got, occasionally touching my thigh. 

I told her that the lounge was closing in about fifteen minutes and that I would escort her to her room. About ten minutes later a hostess came over with the bill and told us that they were closing in five minutes. 

Diane pulled out her credit card, paid for the drink, wolfed down the rest of her drink and got up.

"Walk me to my room?"

"I said I would," I replied.

"Good," she said with a smile.

The hotel elevator was down a long corridor. Diane by now was clearly drunk and a bit unsteady on her feet. Not falling down drunk but needed a bit of a hand. 

Her room was the last one at the end of the hallway. As we were walking down the hall, about halfway down, we heard the quiet but distinct sound of a woman moaning in one of the rooms we passed.

"Sounds like they're having a good time," Diane said.

I'm not a player, and when I'm with a woman, I don't look for or expect sex. However, I enjoy it and if it comes my way, I won't turn it down. 

It was obvious that Diane was horny, and that I was going to be the lucky guy. Before we even closed the door to her room, she was unbuttoning her shirt. 

By the time she got to the bed, her shirt and bra were off. She sat on the bed, took off her shoes and skirt, and lay on the side on the bed, looking at me, wearing only a black laced thong.

She had somewhat pale skin, with tits bigger than normal but not huge. She had nice round nipples and freckles on her chest and cleavage. She looked her age but was very attractive.

Her body was still curvy and I noticed that her legs were a bit muscular, like she worked out in a gym frequently. 

This was an unexpected surprise, and opportunities like this don't come my way often, so I was going to take advantage of it. 

I got naked and joined her on the bed. 

Diane was obviously a strong-willed woman who got what she wanted because the minute that my back hit the bed, she was on me.

She put her tits on my chest, started kissing my neck and reached down and grabbed my cock with her right hand. As she gently stroked my cock, she began moving her head down my abdomen, kissing me all the way. 

By the time she got down there, I was hard as a rock. 

She looked me right in the eyes as she licked the back of my cock, occasionally kissing the head. She did this for about five minutes, then suddenly put my cock in her mouth and started sucking with fast, deep sucks. 

She was amazing.

I was getting the best blow job that I had ever had by a forty-something year old cougar that I had just met hours before.

After a few moments, she literally tore off her thong, straddled me, grabbed my cock and softly moaned as she put it in her. I was amazed about how tight of a pussy a woman of her age had. 

She put her hands on my chest and began grinding on my cock, moving her hips back and forth and side by side. 

She did this for only a very short period when she suddenly began bouncing on it, slowly at first then going faster and faster.

My eyes were fixated on her tits as I watched them quickly bounce up and down, and turned on by the loud slapping sound we made every time her pelvis hit mine.

I could tell that she liked being the dominant one, and I was all for it. 

She rode me this way for a few moments, then quickly got off of me, lay on her back next to me with her legs wide open.

She looked right into my eyes and said, "Fuck me!"

I grabbed my cock and plunged it into her. Doing what amounted to pushups on the bed. She wrapped her legs around me, and used her feet to push my ass down, while her ass bounced off of the bed. 

Our bodies were moving up and down on this large, sturdy bed in perfect rhythm, like a machine. 

I hadn't had sex in over a year, so I was going to make the best of this. 

Diane was into it too. I grabbed her waist and went even faster, watching her large tits move back and forth. Diane was a dirty talker, a demanding dirty talker.

"Give it to me," she said, looking up into my eyes, "Give me that fucking cock."

You could hear our bodies slapping together, Diane was talking dirty, I was talking back. I lifted her body up by her waist off the bed so that only her head and shoulders were on the mattress. I began giving her fast upward strokes, Her eyes got big and her mouth opened.

"Oh God, fuck me!" she demanded, "Give it to me!"

Suddenly she went from dominant to submissive. Telling me that her pussy belonged to me and that she was my slut. It was a real turn on. 

Most women I had been with didn't talk like that during sex. We had been really going at it nonstop for a good ten minutes or so. I then became the dominant one.

"Turn over, spread those legs!"
I demanded.

She got on her hands and knees and started shaking her ass in an inviting way. That was when I noticed the little tattoo of a four leaf clover on her back. 

I had over a year's worth of pent up sexual energy, and was about to release on Diane. I wanted to fuck the life out of this dirty talking Irish cougar. 

I placed a pillow under her waist, I pushed her body down so it was flat on the bed. I roughly entered her. I began ramming every inch of my cock into her, slowly at first but gradually going fast and harder.

One of the things that I liked about her was her sexual interaction. For everything that I did, she would counter with almost perfect rhythm. 

She was moving her pelvis on the pillow beneath her. Up when I went down and down when I went up and the speed and intensity of her movements matched mine. 

I 've fucked numerous women where I do most of the work. They would lie there as I pounded away at them, like fucking a sex doll. 

That was fine, and a lot of fun, but it wasn't like this. Diane was like a well-oiled machine, moving in perfect unison with another machine.

By now I was really giving it to her; our skin slapping together made loud, thud like sounds. I pounded her in that position for a few minutes. 

Again, her ass moving up and down in perfect unison. Her face was in the pillow, her arms by her side. After a short time, I saw her body stiffen. She let out a deep, muffled moan on the pillow.

I grabbed her hips and yanked them up. Her shoulders and tits were still on the bed but her ass was about two feet above it. I grabbed a handful of her auburn Irish hair, and hammered away at her. 

This went on for a good two or three minutes when suddenly, out of the blue, she got on her back again. She spread her legs wide, and I grabbed her waist and went at her with a furious pace. 

She stared at my cock going in and out of her, I was about a minute or so away, and somehow she knew it.

"I can feel it throbbing inside me," she said, "Filling up with cum, wanting to explode."

"Oh shit!" I said.

She then looked me straight in the eyes. "Cum on my tits," she said, "Cum on my tits."

I pulled out quickly, she squeezed her tits together as I exploded on her freckle-laden chest. Covering her tits with cum and upper belly with cum.

"Cum, baby," she said.

I collapsed on the bed next to her. My cock was twitching, I was exhausted. I hadn't worked that hard in years. Diane put her arms around my chest, and got close to me. I could feel her wet tits against my body. 

We both fell fast asleep.

At seven thirty the next morning, her room phone rang. It was a wake-up call from the front desk. She had a late morning flight back to Chicago. 

She got up and called the airline on her cell phone. She changed her flight to mid-afternoon. Then, like a giddy little girl, ran over and dived on the bed, her tits still covered with cum.

"Good morning!" she said.

The next thing I know her hand is on my cock again. Round two was just beginning. We fucked again, as furiously as we had hours before. 

After about thirty to forty minutes of really intense sex, we stopped. The checkout time at my hotel was eleven o'clock, I told her that I had to get back there and pack my things. 

She asked me to join her for breakfast. We chatted for a while, and then, because my flight was earlier than hers, I gave her a kiss and got in a cab.

To this day, I think about that encounter. Where Diane is and what she's doing. I'm sure that it wasn't the first time she did or the last, but I didn't care. 

I look at myself as one of the lucky ones. I got to fuck that sex machine twice and, to this day, she's still the best. 

That was a trip well worth taking.

Story by Paul

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