Birthday Wishes and Wet Dreams…

My 37th birthday is a week away.  In anticipation I am having lots of fantasies lately.  My sex drive is in overdrive.  Last night I had this dream about a stranger.  He was British, v. sexy and v. dominant.   I was at the Mayfair hotel having a cocktail and he was wearing a gorgeous Paul Smith suit and Hermes tie (its a talent to be able to spot an Hermes from 150 feet away). He was wrapping up a business meeting and it was clear he was in control.

We made eye contact briefly a few times and each time, I quickly looked away, blushing.  There was something unsettling about his presence in this plush hotel bar at 5 in the afternoon. I wish I had worn panties.

The next time I looked up he was alone.  All alone. My instinct?  Get up and go to the loo. As I walked by I could feel his eyes burning through me.   I secretly hoped he would follow me.  The bathrooms at the Mayfair were perfect for intimate moments and big enough to do v. dirty deeds. I was certain that I had to taste him.

As I walked out of loo, he was standing there.  Funny that in a marble bathroom, I hadn’t heard him enter.  He didn’t smile.  Didn’t say a word.  I walked up to him.  He grabbed the back of my neck and forced me to my knees.  Oh God, that bulge.  I began to suck, lick and swallow like it was my favorite ice cream cone.   His hardness said it all about how he was feeling.  Unexpectedly, he pulled me up, yanked my skirt up and began to fuck me again that marble sink.  It was a love match – my cunt and his dick.  It was so creamy it didn’t need his finger or tongue.  He unhooked my garter belt and shoved my stocking into my mouth to make sure I wouldn’t make a sound.  All I could do is cling on to his shoulder as if on the precipice of a mountain.

Over and over, he fucked me.  He turned me over suddenly and turned the faucet on shoving my face in the cold water while letting my ass get the royal treatment.  My ass was hot and filled with him while my face and neck were cool under the cold water.  

As quickly as he began, he suddenly stopped, zipped himself and walked quietly out.  Never was a word exchanged.  A light kiss was planted on the back of my neck and there, bent over the sink, at the Mayfair Hotel with a stocking in my mouth, I received the fuck of my life from a stranger.