The bed was calling but that simply wasn't enough. Being honest with myself, it wasn't an orgasm I wanted per se. I wanted attention. I wanted to feel...desired and craved. I also couldn't ignore the craving to feel naughty again, to feel my pure, carnal sexuality flowing out. Those sweet memories of when I did somethig I knew I'd regret the next morning! Truth be told, I never regretted a single one of them. My husband knew about my sexual history or at least what I willingly told him. After. He pushes me against the door and within seconds his hands are on me and his lips are against mine, I feel the heat of his body pressing up against me and I can feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, aching to be released. I touch my tongue with his and I hear him moan a little and I moan in return, I love hearing him get like that. His hands find their way up my t-shirt and suddenly my strapless bra is on the floor and his hands are caressing my rock hard nipples. I groan loudly in. It was hot as hell and the sorry excuse of an air conditioner. The weak breeze that seeped from the slots on top of the droning beast, was not any cooler than the air hanging motionless in the room. One small consolation crossed her mind, at least the beast was rendering air that moved. The latch on the window refused to yield to her efforts to unfasten it.Prisoner. She was a prisoner in a hotel room ten floors off the ground and sentenced to die a slow death by melting. The exertion of yanking. Diane and Donna knew what toshop for. They went to a shoe store for the girl's first pair of highheels. "Now," Said Diane, "We are going to get you young ladies somereal cosmetics. Would you like that?"This was a surprise for the girls; usually they just wore lipstickand some times a little eyeshadow. They took so long to pick out whatthey wanted that Diane and Donna just got a teen starter kit. Theride home was spent with the girls checking and rechecking theircosmetics.They hung their dresses.
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