hotel 3

Yes, I know. What happened to "hotel 2"?

Well, the local boys and girls got me last night. Went out wandering around this odd little city. Danced, drank, flirted, danced some more. I wish I could tell you something about myself that would make this story so much more interesting - but, alas... I can't.

But I can say that I ended up at a heartbreaking little karaoke bar (but then, karaoke always breaks my heart... so much earnestness) where a woman was singing a country western song. She must have been in her early twenties, with shoulder length dark hair, big eyes and hips, and wearing tennis shoes. Clearly a lesbian - or, at least, clear to me.

I could not stop staring at her. Could. Not. Velcro eyeballs. On her.

After she put the mic back in the stand and went back to her friends, I had to rip my pupils off of her so that I wouldn't appear to be the raving lunatic stalker that I was so close to becoming. No idea why, suddenly, all I wanted - all I want - is a woman. All over me. And this is all I could think about all day.

And, in some way, the universe, as it often does, provided. At lunch, a woman I had not noticed before, and who is here attending the same event that I am, came over and sat at my table. We made small talk about the event, but, given today's private obsession, I felt like all I could do was look at the curve of her neck, her hands, her lips. She is from the north of England and had a slightly raunchy sense of humor. We were laughing loudly by the end of the meal.

As dessert was arriving, she suddenly said that she had seen me earlier and felt like she wanted to meet me. For a second, it was awkward. I was trying to read behind what she was saying - same sex interactions are, if there is even a hint of the erotic involved, so muffled by layers of water-testing. Is she? Could she be?

I was still taking it in when she got up to leave. We had been talking about going out to an Irish pub nearby, so it didn't seem odd that she asked for my room number, saying that she will call later to see if I am still up for going.

I had to sit and listed to a presentation for about an hour after that, and I was vibrating. I did that delicious thing where I innocently crossed my legs, draping my sweater over my lap, my hands in full view on the table taking notes, while I pulsed my inner thighs and vaginal muscles until I was on the edge of an orgasm. I just kept imagine what her breasts would feel like against my skin, against my tongue. And yes, sometimes I would think of you watching.

But at the last minute, I didn't cum. And now, several hours later, here I sit. Still damp, and wondering if she will call later. I will, of course, keep you well informed.

Going to take a nap now. And I will be very, very good. Very, very, very, very good.