The Hotel Waiter Where I Accompanied My Husband

When Esteban told me he had to travel to a medical conference on the coast, I refused three times. I kept telling him it was a lot of travel for such a short time, that I’d rather stay home with my books and my plants, that I wasn’t going to endure so many hours alone in a hotel while he sat through lectures on cardiology. But Esteban insisted with that stubbornness of his, the stubbornness of a man used to getting his way, and in the end I agreed with a sigh and a half-packed suitcase.

The hotel turned out better than I expected. Four stars, ocean view, a huge pool surrounded by palm trees, and a bar off to one side. Esteban disappeared at eight in the morning, came back at seven or eight at night, and I was left with an entire day ahead of me and nothing to do. The beach was a fifteen-minute walk, too far for my taste in the middle of summer. The pool, on the other hand, was three steps from the elevator.

That morning of the second day I put on a bikini I’d bought especially for the trip. Black, with thin straps, too small for a woman my age and yet perfect on my body. At forty-something, a woman knows when she can still afford certain things. I took a towel, a novel I had no intention of reading, and the sunscreen, and went down to the pool.

I chose a secluded lounger under a half-shaded umbrella. I applied the cream slowly, almost coquettishly, and then untied the top of the bikini to sunbathe topless. There weren’t many people around, just three couples and a man asleep with a hat over his face. The sun was blazing and I closed my eyes.

—Can I get you something to drink, ma’am?

I opened my eyes behind my dark glasses. It was the pool bar waiter. I had seen him from a distance that morning, but only now did I have him a meter away, close enough to study in detail. He had to be around thirty, maybe a little younger. Tall, broad-backed, gym arms, a white uniform T-shirt that clung to his chest every time he breathed. He had tan skin, a strong jaw, and green eyes.

—A tonic water with lemon —I said, not bothering to cover my tits.

He didn’t lower his gaze to my bare torso, which I liked. But he didn’t look up too quickly either, which I liked even more. He had the decency to look at my nipples for a long second, without pretending otherwise but without drooling either, before fixing his eyes on mine again.

—Right away.

He came back a few minutes later with the glass set on a tray. He left it on the little table beside the lounger, asked if I needed anything else, and I lifted myself slightly in the lounger, set my glasses aside, and looked straight at him.

—Yes. I need you to explain what a woman is doing alone in this hotel while her husband spends the day locked in a conference room.

He smiled. A brief, controlled smile, with just a slight crease at the corner of his left eye.

—Does your husband come back for lunch?

—My husband comes back when the sun goes down.

—Then you have to make the most of the day.

—That’s what I’m trying to do.

He paused. I didn’t look away. His eyes dropped for a second to the bulge in my bikini, that black triangle that barely covered my cunt, and then returned to mine.

—If you want —he said, lowering his voice a little—, when I finish my shift at four I can show you some things around the hotel that are included in the all-inclusive package and most guests never discover. If you’re interested.

—I’m very interested. Room 412.

He nodded as if he were jotting down an order in his notebook and walked away. I watched his ass inside the uniform trousers and was already getting wet.

***

At five past four there was a knock on the door. I had gone back up to the room two hours earlier, showered, rubbed almond cream all over my body, pulled my hair up into a loose bun, and wrapped myself in a turquoise pareo, with nothing underneath. I opened the door.

—Come in —I said, using the informal you without asking permission.

He came in. He had changed: beige shorts, a light gray T-shirt, leather loafers without socks. He didn’t smell of cologne, which surprised me and pleased me. He smelled of clean skin, sun, pool salt. I closed the door behind him and asked his name.

—Lucas.

—I’m Marina.

I invited him to sit on the sofa facing the window. I offered him whisky and he declined politely: he didn’t drink alcohol, he took care of himself, trained every day, didn’t smoke. I ordered two juices from the mini-fridge and sat beside him with one leg bent under me, the pareo opening slightly at thigh level.

—This isn’t what you expected —he said, looking at the glass.

—It’s exactly what I expected.

We talked for ten minutes about nothing. The temperature of the sea, my husband’s conference, the place where Lucas had grown up, the gym where he trained. I watched him while he talked and thought there was still something adolescent about him: the way he lowered his head when he laughed, a subtle shyness beneath all that carefully built muscle. A rare opportunity, I told myself. A woman in her forties doesn’t run into a body that young and that well disposed every day, with a cock that you could sense hanging heavy against the fabric of his shorts every time he shifted position.

I set the empty glass on the coffee table. I stood up without saying anything and untied the knot of the pareo. The fabric fell to the floor. I was naked in front of him, my nipples already hard, my shaved cunt exposed. Lucas lifted his gaze, parted his lips slightly, and stayed still.

—Do you want to help me not be bored this afternoon? —I asked him.

He didn’t answer. He stood, pulled his T-shirt over his head in one motion, and I moved in front of him to finish undressing him. I lowered his shorts very slowly, unhurried, looking at his face every time my fingers brushed his skin. He was shaved everywhere, equally tan all over, with no tan lines. When the shorts fell to the floor, along with the black briefs I yanked down in one pull, a long, thick cock sprang free, still half-hard, pointing upward, with the pink glans already peeking from the foreskin.

I licked my lips without being able to help it. I ran a finger along its entire length, from the root to the head, and felt his cock twitch hard under my touch.

I hugged him naked against my body and felt his breathing speed up. I swept my open palm down his back, traced each vertebra with my fingertip, held his firm ass, and bit his shoulder without much force. His cock pressed hard between my belly and his, hot, wetting my skin with a transparent drop that leaked from the tip.

—You have to let yourself be handled —I whispered in his ear, gripping him with my hand and stroking him a couple of times, slowly, feeling his thickness between my fingers—. This afternoon is mine. This cock is mine.

—All yours —he murmured, his voice already hoarse.

***

I took him to the bed and laid him on his back. I started with his mouth, slowly, with my tongue. I went down to his neck and dragged my lips along the curve where the muscle stood out. I nibbled his nipples, which hardened immediately, and kept going down the center of his chest to his navel. I breathed over his skin on purpose, blowing on him lightly, while I held his thighs apart with my hands so he wouldn’t move. I ran my tongue along the line from his navel to his pubis, a groove carved by his abs, and sank my teeth into his hip bone until he let out a moan.

When I reached his pubis, I stopped. He smelled like a young man, clean, almost sweet. I kissed the insides of his thighs first, bit the upper part of his left leg, ran my tongue over his groin. Lucas had a cock hard as a stick, pointing at my face, pulsing on its own with every beat, and I looked at it for a few seconds before touching it, savoring the moment when he was waiting for me with his mouth open and not getting it.

I grabbed the base with my left hand and ran my tongue over the frenulum, very slowly, in circles. I licked the corona of the glans, went all the way around with the tip of my tongue, and took a thick drop of pre-cum into my mouth. It tasted of salt, of a young man’s skin. I swallowed it while looking him in the eyes.

Then I took it all in. In one single motion, to the hilt, until I felt it against my uvula. I choked for a second, held back the gag reflex, and started sucking him with that initial restraint any experienced woman knows how to manage. I went up and down slowly, tightening my lips around the shaft, letting saliva slip from the corner of my mouth and run down over his testicles. I alternated with my tongue on the frenulum, sucked just the glans for a few seconds, then took him all the way in again.

He moaned for the first time. A low, contained sound, vibrating from the back of his throat. I didn’t look up. I grabbed his balls with my left hand, held them gently, and stroked them while I kept going with my mouth. They were firm, hairless, round, heavy. I ran my lips over one and then the other, took them into my mouth one at a time, tugging very lightly, and went back to his cock with even more hunger.

I took his right hand and placed it on the back of my neck. I made him squeeze. He understood at once and started pushing my head down, setting the pace himself. He shoved me down to the throat a couple of times, with the kind of contained violence I was asking for. Saliva ran in thick strings over my breasts.

I never stopped looking at him from below, eyes slightly lifted and teary, while he had his head thrown back against the pillow and his jaw clenched. I took him to the back of my throat several times, held my breath, let him out, and started again. The skin of the glans brushed my palate. At some point I scared myself with the pleasure I was getting from sucking him: I squeezed my thighs around my head, suffocated myself against him, squirmed, and slid my right hand between my legs.

My cunt was soaked. My slit was dripping down to my thigh. I shoved in two fingers, pulled them out gleaming, and rubbed my clit in tight circles without stopping sucking his cock. I came there, before he had even touched me, just with the rhythm of his cock in my mouth and my own fingers sunk in my cunt. My whole belly contracted, I moaned with my mouth full, and he felt me come in the vibration of my throat against his glans.

—You want to come —he murmured, surprised.

—I want everything —I answered, taking him out of my mouth and stroking him with a hand full of my own saliva—. I want you to put it all the way in, I want you to fill me up inside, I want you to leave me broken.

***

I sat up and straddled his waist. But I didn’t let him in yet. I kissed him on the mouth for the first time, with tongue, with saliva, with everything I’d been keeping inside for months, maybe years. Esteban kissed me hurriedly when he kissed me. Lucas kissed me as if he had time, as if a woman’s body were something deserving of attention. He held my tits in his hands, squeezed them with just the right force, and sucked my nipples one by one with a slowness that made me arch my back and lower my hips against his belly in an involuntary movement.

I rubbed my open cunt against his hard cock, without letting it in. The slide of my wet lips over the shaft made him growl. I pressed it against my clit and ground there, back and forth, until he grabbed my hips to force me down.

—No —I told him, pushing his hands away—. I’m in charge.

I lowered myself again. I bent over him, licked him once more from the base to the tip, left him shining with my saliva mixed with my juices. Then I crawled slowly up until my belly rested on his and set him at the entrance of my cunt.

—Put it in me —I begged—. All the way in, slowly at first.

Lucas grabbed my hips, held me steady, and thrust into me. I closed my eyes. The cock entered me all the way, millimeter by millimeter, opening me inside with that delicious burn of a cock too big, until I felt his belly against mine and his testicles brushing my ass. I clenched it with my thighs, with the walls of my cunt, felt it throbbing inside me.

—God —I whispered—. You’re huge.

—And you’re so tight.

He started moving from below, in a short, contained rhythm, while I sat down more fully on him to feel him deeper. The head of his cock touched a point inside me no one had touched in years. I bit my lip to keep from screaming.

—Harder.

He obeyed. He went from contained motion to firm, deep pumping, making me bounce on his body and drawing a moan from me with each thrust. My tits jolted with every hit. I dug my nails into his pecs, bit the base of his neck, told him in his ear things I hadn’t told anyone in a very long time.

—That’s it, you motherfucker, that’s it, tear my cunt apart, deeper, harder.

He grabbed my hips and started lifting and lowering me on his cock as if I weighed ten kilos. He pulled almost all the way out and then slammed himself back in to the root in one blow. The slap of my juices against his belly filled the room, along with the wet thuds of my ass dropping onto him. I braced my hands on his chest to get momentum too and started riding him with my whole waist, sliding off and impaling myself again, looking him in the eyes with my mouth open.

—Look at me —I told him—. Look at me while I fuck myself on your cock.

He didn’t take his eyes off me. I brought one hand to my clit, rubbed it in tight circles without stopping my movement on him, and came for the second time, with his cock inside me, clenching around it in spasms I felt all through my belly. A rush of hot fluid ran down my thighs, soaked his testicles and the sheets.

—You’re dripping all over me —he growled through clenched teeth—. You’ve already come twice.

—And I’m going to come again —I replied—. Now it’s your turn to work.

Then we turned over. I lay on my back, hooked him with my legs at the waist, and made him enter me again. He propped himself on his forearms on either side of my head, looked me in the eyes, and began moving with a different rhythm, more measured, almost as if he were rocking me. I held his face with both hands.

—Like that —I told him—. Like that. Don’t stop.

He didn’t stop. He gradually increased the intensity, found a spot inside me none of my lovers had ever found, and started hammering it over and over, an angle where the glans brushed just the front wall of my cunt. I was crying out softly, against his mouth, with my forehead pressed to his. I looped my legs around his waist to keep him closer, to make him go deeper, to not let him get away.

—Put me on all fours —I demanded suddenly—. I want you to fuck me from behind.

He pulled out with a wet sound, turned me over, laid me face down, and lifted my ass by pulling at my hip bone. I felt his hands spreading my cheeks, looking at me. He ran two fingers through my cunt slit, made a little whirl with my juices, and smeared my ass hole. Then he drove into my cunt in one single thrust, to the root, with such force that the bed shifted against the wall.

—Yes, yes, yes —I moaned into the pillow—. Like that, like that, break me.

He started fucking me from behind with a brutal rhythm, grabbing my hair with one hand, holding my hip with the other. Each thrust knocked his balls hard against my clit. He shoved his wet thumb into my ass, up to the first knuckle, and I screamed into the pillow at the feeling of the double penetration finishing the job of breaking me open. I came for the third time, with my cunt pouring around his cock and my ass clenching around his finger.

—I’m going to come —he warned, his voice hoarse, without slowing—. It’s coming out.

—Inside —I ordered him, looking at him over my shoulder—. I want everything inside. Empty your cock in my cunt.

He thrust a couple more times, with short, deep strokes, gripped my hips with both hands, fingers digging in, buried his face against my neck and stayed still. I felt his cock throbbing inside me, the heat, that inexhaustible gush that so many times had been an empty promise to me and that afternoon was a promise fulfilled. One long spurt, another, another, until there was no more room for semen inside and something started dripping down my thigh. I came with him at the same time, biting his shoulder with a cry I hope the hotel walls didn’t hear.

He collapsed onto my back with his cock still inside, throbbing against the walls. We stayed like that a long while, him breathing into the nape of my neck. When he finally pulled out, I felt the warm trail of his load running down between my buttocks. I lifted a finger, gathered a thick drop, and licked it off without taking my eyes off him.

***

After that we stayed still for a while. He stroked my hair, I ran my hand over his chest. At five-thirty I made him coffee, walked him to the door wrapped in a sheet, and gave him a long kiss before letting him go.

—Tomorrow —I told him—. At four.

—At four.

The next morning I went down to the pool early. I looked for him without wanting to seem eager and found him in the distance, serving an old couple at the bar. I settled into the same lounger as the day before. When he saw me, he came over solicitously, greeted me as if it were the first time, and asked what I was going to have.

—The same as yesterday —I said—. And everything that comes after.

I blew him a kiss with the tip of my fingers. He lowered his head for a second, smiled to one side, and went to get me the tonic water.

And the truth is that that afternoon, and the three afternoons after it, Lucas gave me the hotel’s all-inclusive package with the same meticulousness a surgeon applies to a procedure. No rush. No mistakes. With a steady hand and an attentive gaze. He knelt to suck me off against the window as the sun set over the sea. He fucked me against the bathroom glass, my face fogging it with every thrust. He made me ride him on the sofa until I emptied my cunt all over him. And on the last afternoon, when we already knew it was the last one, he asked permission with his eyes and shoved it into my ass, very slowly, very lubricated, while I masturbated face down biting the pillow.

When Esteban came back on the last night of the conference, exhausted from so many lectures, he asked me if I had been very bored.

—Not at all, darling —I told him, pouring him a whisky—. In these all-inclusive hotels there’s always something to keep you entertained.