The Overdue Quickie

ANDY

What a shit-ass day.

I’m sick of hotels, sick of the same bland food and shit beer. The pretty girl at reception whispered that the bar across the road served local beer at a much cheaper rate, so I headed over.

It’s dead when I walk in, but I don’t care. I don’t want to chat with anyone. I just want to drink, eat, then sleep.

As soon as I walk in, I notice a redhead reaching up for a glass on the high shelves, her tight ass commanding my attention.

I’m soaked despite the short walk from the hotel, and I try to make myself look respectable when she glances up at me.

Holy fuck, it’s Frankie.

My heart skips a beat when she recognizes me, and we make general conversation. This woman offered it to me on a plate not so long back, but I declined because I was respectful.

I was hankering after her sister at the time, and a fuck load of drama went down that just made me run a mile. Well, a thousand actually.

Yet here she is. If that isn’t the fates handing me a sign, I don’t know what is.

We hug, and I enjoy the feeling of her breasts against my wet shirt. I wonder if her nipples are hard, and I can’t help but check them out as she tells me she is wet.

I mean, really?

She’s still looking at me like she did all those years ago, and I can see that she is trembling. Shit, do I really have that effect on her? It is a massive ego boost, but I can’t give her anything serious.

“Do you want to come back to my hotel room after your shift?” I ask bluntly, my hand sliding around her waist as I pull her closer. Her mouth falls open as she bites her lip.

She is definitely sexy and a genuinely nice girl. She was there for me when no one else was, so maybe I could repay her.

“Andy—”

I move her closer to me, her head arching back instinctively as I breathe onto her neck. Goose pimples erupt all over her pale skin, and her pulse quickens against my lips.

“Hmm?”

“You said you didn’t want anything serious,” Frankie whispers, her hands slipping around my neck as I move my lips in a slow fashion across her skin.

“I don’t,” I say honestly, and she stiffens in my arms. “It’s up to you—”

“I finish at eleven,” she interrupts me.

I don’t know the exact time, but I think it’s around eight.

“I can’t wait that long,” I growl, tugging her back to me.

Frankie’s eyes flash with excitement, a smirk appearing on her lips.

“Am I reading this right?” She checks, her hand running up my thigh. Dainty, eager fingers.

I’m here for it.

“Yeah,” I respond gruffly as she steps back.

“Follow me,” she commands, spinning on her heel.

I do, smiling at the other girl who is paying us no attention.

“Deena, I’m just going on break,” Frankie calls out, pushing a stained wooden door with both hands. I follow her down stairs that are made of stone, the smell of dampness hitting my nostrils.

It’s pitch black, and I can barely see.

Frankie reaches out for me when we near the bottom steps, and I feel her drag me toward her.

“This is the wine cellar,” she breathes, her lips finding mine in the darkness. “Full of vintage, expensive wines that have waited years to be tasted.”

Her tongue flickers into my mouth, and within minutes, her hand is on my cock. I’m rock hard, but it’s not enough for her.

Tugging my belt open, she eases my pants and boxers down, her mouth eagerly seeking the tip. I press my hands against the wall as she takes me in her mouth, rough brick dust falling from my fingers.

“How does it taste, Frankie?” I mutter, my cock slamming against the back of her throat. I know she can’t respond, and this makes me even harder. “Tell me, baby.”

Her muffled cries excite me further, and I feel the stress of the day melt away as her hot mouth works me into a frenzy.

Her nails scratch my balls lightly, and I let out a growl. She stops, standing up as her hands continue to work the shaft.

“Fuck me, Andy,” she whimpers, her cock-stained mouth moving against mine. I’m ready to shoot my load, but I have to consider her needs.

I whip her around so that her body is flush against the wall and tear her panties and jeans down. My hands stroke the soft flesh of her buttocks, my foot parting her legs so she is widened for me.

“Oh my god,” she moans, and I move my hand around to her front. She’s wet, dripping fucking wet. My fingers massage her clit as I bite into her shoulder.

Her hand reaches around to guide me toward her tight cunt. “Just fuck me now, Andy!”

I bend my knees to position myself against her, growling as I force my way into her intimate place.

She is gasping now but backing onto me with urgency. My hands push her top up, and I’m soon cupping little titties that are responding to my fingers twisting the nipples.

When I’m fully in, she turns around to kiss me, but we have no time for that. I’m ready to shoot everything I have into this tight pussy.

“Fuck, Frankie,” I hiss, my hands gripping her hips. I slam into her repeatedly and she cries out, moaning my name as she fingers her clit.

“Don’t stop,” she commands, and I hear her breath hitch in her throat. I give it everything I have as her body shudders around mine, my arm wrapped around her front as I pull her close to me.

“I’m going to empty myself into you,” I whisper as she laughs.

“Good.”

My eyes scrunch up as my orgasm rips through my body and I shoot streams of cum into her. I’m in all the way, up to the hilt, and she is moaning my name over and over.

I know this woman had a thing for me, but I’d made it clear there was no way. No way.

Not after what happened.

I pull myself out of her, knowing full well that she will need to work the rest of her shift with my seed dripping out of her.

I’m out of puff, but I’ll recover, hopefully in time for when she finishes her shift.

“God, my sister missed out.” Frankie exhales with a laugh, tugging her jeans back on.

I smile to myself, imagining Frankie telling her sister all about this.

“Come to my hotel after your shift,” I say gruffly as she leads me back up the stairs.

When we get there, she turns to me with brick dust all over her front. Her lips are swollen, but I kiss them anyway. Her hands wrap around my neck as her tongue explores my mouth, and I slap her ass.

“See you at eleven,” she murmurs, dusting herself off. “What room number?”

“It’s 211. You’ve got my number. Text me.”

I walk away then, picking up the beer bottle I’d left on the counter.

It is still cold.

A bit like me.