Julie in a hotel

Julie visits a hotel

My affair with Stevie; if that’s what you want to call it is still going on today. It’s not an affair in the conventional sense as there is absolutely no chance that he would ever buy me flowers or take me to a French Restaurant. Nor would I want him to. We are as he quaintly calls it – ‘fuck-buddies’.

We still occasionally go to the derelict factory on a Friday afternoon and the odd evening after work. I genuinely am hooked like a junkie on his cock. I absolutely adore sucking it, especially when I know that there are perverts watching us. I always wear stockings and suspenders under something loose and easy to remove so I can put on a show for them in my sexiest lingerie and boobs and bum on show. I’ve even fucked him a few times in the car. I use that word a lot now when we’re together….I love using it….and tits and cock and cunt. That’s a word I hate hearing in any other circumstances but when I’m with him in the car just wearing my frilly undies and I’ve sucked his big cock for 10 minutes or so I love telling him that I want him to ‘fuck or finger my sweaty cunt’. Even the thought of saying it turns me on.

I prefer sucking him off but if there is a crowd gathered; from time to time I’ll clamber over the seats until I straddle his big cock and make him suck my tits while I ride him to a mutual climax. I always make sure the doors are locked but the kick I get from watching 4 or 5 dirty old men wanking next to the windows as I fuck the living daylights out of my young lover makes the mess they leave worthwhile.

Stevie also converted me to enjoy watching and reading porn on the internet at this time. He recommended loads of websites (including this one!) and I soon became hooked on porn and erotica too. Only his PC was capable of watching it in the office but I now pass many a lonely hour in hotels when I visit our factories around the UK, watching hardcore movies and reading very, very naughty stories.

I do my work e-mails and prepare my files for the following day as soon as I arrive in the room, then order room-service with a bottle of wine then settle down for an evening of porn and self-abuse. This might sound vain but I love sitting in a set of sexy undies and high healed shoes watching myself in a mirror as I masturbate reading a sexy story or watching a porno movie. Every fantasy I’d ever loosely considered is catered for and a few that have made my hair curl….but I still watch or read them to the end. It’s a poor night if I only cum twice but as often or not I cum three or four times. Baring in mind I still see Steve at least once a week… I am now in sexual Heaven.


A few months after I started my affair I went to a black-tie Rugby Club Dinner Dance with my husband and wore my favourite ‘little black dress’ which is two inches above my knee with a reasonably plunging neckline that highlights my bust if I wear a Wonderbra with it. For this occasion I decided to wear a pair of black Gerbe Carnation 10 denier fully fashioned stockings (shiny and seamed!) with the black six-strap suspender belt that I’d bought online that night with Stevie.

Even my husband thought I looked sexy when I made my entrance into the living-room.

“Bloody Hell, Jools!” He gasped as he sipped a large glass of whisky, “you look fu…bloody gorgeous.”

I smiled and gave him a twirl to show off my seamed stockings. Seconds later the taxi driver tooted his horn and Greg gulped down the last of his drink.
He was very attentive in the back of the car; telling me how lucky he was to have me and fondling my suspenders through my dress. Sadly experience told me that his good mood wouldn’t last the night.

As soon as we arrived at the hotel he went to the bar and got side-tracked talking to a friend; leaving me to make small talk with a couple of other rugby widows. Eventually a waiter arrived with a tray of wine. We took two glasses each.

The night went just as I expected. I got bored and Greg got pissed. The only consolation was the amount of attention that my stockings brought me. As the night wore on a procession of men offered to buy me drinks and flirt with me as my husband propped up the bar. I danced with a couple of the younger players and ‘accidentally’ let two attractive ones look down my cleavage when I adjusted the strap on my shoes. At the end of the night Greg was virtually carried to the taxi and slept all of the way home. He was so drunk I left him to sleep on the sofa while I went to bed alone and masturbated as I watched a porno movie of a middle-aged woman getting roasted off two well hung young black men on my laptop.

When I left home on the following Monday morning for a two day visit to our Glasgow factory I packed the seamed stockings and suspender belt. I wore a barely-black pair of hold ups during the day but changed into the seamed stockings as soon as I got into the hotel room. As usual I sat in my undies to check my e-mails and prepare my work for the following day.

Just as I picked up the room-service menu I looked at myself in the large mirror. Memories of Saturday night and the attention my stockings had received came flooding back.

Ten minutes later I was ordering a glass of wine in the hotel bar wearing a lemon cashmere sweater and my seamed stockings under a nice grey pencil skirt that nicely showed the bumps of my suspenders.

My stockings got the reaction I wanted (needed?). Plenty of guys looked longingly in my direction. I got such a buzz from just walking around the bar and restaurant as sexily as possible. At least once in the bar and once in the restaurant I sat in such a way that my stocking welt must have come into view.

After dinner I took the lift up the six floors to my room with two young men who had followed me from the bar. I could tell that they were bursting to speak to me but were probably intimidated. This didn’t bother me as I just wanted them to ‘want’ me. Alone in my room I quickly stripped down to my stockings suspenders and shoes and read a couple of very naughty stories as I watched myself fingering my cunt in the long mirror. I came three times in ten minutes.

I did much the same the following night with exactly the same effect. It felt incredibly decadent as I stalked the bar and restaurant as if I was a lioness shadowing her prey. Only one man actually spoke to me and that was merely a ‘Good evening’ but I wasn’t really looking to ‘pull’; I was more than happy teasing these men, then going back to my room to pleasure myself.

This became a regular occurrence for me over the next few weeks; dressing quite sexily without appearing tarty when I stayed in hotels and I always wore seamed stockings which the men all appeared to appreciate. My other trick was to wear a non-wired bra; which paired with a nice pair of high-heels made my boobs bounce when I walked through a room. Only a couple of guys ever plucked up the courage to speak to me at different times and buy me a drink but it never really led to anything….just more self-indulgent masturbation.

I nearly weakened one night in Newcastle with a gorgeous Irish man called Roy who was keen to get me into bed. He looked like boxer and had short black hair with dark brooding eyes which pieced my heart. I was very tempted but after a couple of glasses of wine all he could talk about was his new managerial job in ‘waste management’ and how he was desperate to make his new sales team the biggest and best ‘waste management’ company in the North-East.