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A Beautiful Collision

Sometime around Wednesday morning the week shifted from a crawl to a creep. Mychl was glad the conference was over. He was ready to be home, in his city, at his house, in his bed. It had been yet another trivial conference where people who had promised insight seemed to just regurgitate the same tired information. The clock was moving too slow for his liking. In an effort to pass the time he had gone down to the hotel lobby, ordered a club soda, and settled in on one of the many couches to people watch. It was a hobby of his, and Vegas seemed to be people watching heaven. All the stereotypes were there for consumption.

Looking over at the bar Mychl saw the mid-life crisis. A gentleman, wearing clothes that would have seemed over the top on a man 10 years his junior, stood with his back to the bar. His eyes darted across the room, and his face was quick to smile at the slightest hint of interest. Yes, Mr. Mid-Life was on the prowl, seeking the medication that would return him to years gone by, if even just for the night. Mychl couldn't help but chuckle to himself and he promised to shoot himself if he ever acted like Mr. Mid-Life.

Only a few stools down was another man. Mychl assumed this scene was currently being reproduced many times all over the city. The man was sitting quietly, shaking his head, and slowly spinning the glass that held his draft beer. It was a short leap for Mychl to assume that the man was going over in his head the conversation he would have to have when he got home on how his luck had turned incredibly bad, and he had lost it all.

Leaning against one of the high top tables was a woman whose make-up was fresh and just slightly too thick. She was dressed in way that seemed more of an advertisement than anything else. The hotel was a little too nice to allow a "working" girl to stake out her territory on the premises, so Mychl again figured she was just another face in the endless crowd seeking any way to not be alone this evening, and hoping to find that convenient diversion that would save her from her thoughts of decisions past.

This city didn't sleep. Mychl realized this insomnia wasn't from any sense of excitement, but more from a troubled conscience. There was a weight to this place, a weight that was caused by a million skeletons in a million closets. A truth that seemed to be understood by everyone, yet never discussed, as if to do so would break some rule or code.

That must have been why Esmee caught Mychl's eye when she entered. She seemed protected from her surroundings, almost as if she didn't belong. Of all of the secrets of the city, she shared none of them. She moved with confidence in this environment. She was dressed casually but still tastefully, in her loose fitting blouse with a tank top underneath and just slightly faded jeans which looked to be perfectly broken in to the curve of her hips and the movement of her walk. She stood at the Guest Services desk for a longer time than normal, and even though Mychl could not hear the conversation, he continued to watch as she handled her interaction with the Concierge. Upon completion of her business she walked over to a couch, almost directly across the room from Mychl, and sat down to make a phone call. He felt juvenile at his enjoyment of watching the sway of her hips as she walked away from him. They really did seem like very comfortable jeans.

Mychl could not put his finger on what it was, but he found himself finishing his drink and standing up to approach her. What was he doing? He was tired, and longed for home. His flight was only a few hours from now. Still, there was an unmistakable magnetism that urged him onward. He was not the type to approach strange women in hotel lobbies, and she most definitely did not seem the type of woman who engaged in those types of advances. Still, Mychl felt a gravity pull him towards her, and this force was not going to be denied on this night.

"Do you have the time?", he asked her. In his head he cringed. Who asks the time anymore? Everyone has a phone or tablet. Not to mention she is bound to notice the new wristwatch he purchased just a few weeks ago. Esmee smirked just slightly and answered politely. Mychl was surprised at how the conversation flowed from there. It was small talk, but even though they had just met, it had a comfortable feel as if they were old friends who had not seen each other in a very long while. They both were able to make each other laugh, which eased their tension in a situation that was very foreign to them both. They sat and talked for maybe 30 minutes, and even though the words they spoke were not specific to the thoughts roaming inside their heads, they communicated their desire in other ways. An extended pause in the chatting left them in silence, gazing at each other. Mychl tilting his head down, just a bit, as he lifted his eyes to meet hers. Did she feel what his eyes were asking her? She must have, as she held his gaze for only a moment before looking away, the tiniest grin forming on her mouth as she twirled her hair around and through two of her fingers.

Mychl suggested that they continue their conversation upstairs. His boldness surprised himself as he said it, but he felt as if she would understand that this was not a typical encounter for him. His assumption was confirmed as she reached over and placed her hand on top of his, lowered her voice, and simply whispered, "Okay."

They stood and walked over to the elevator. Mychl pressed the up arrow, and his heart sunk just a bit as an elderly couple walked over and stood next to them. The doors slid open and Mychl and Esmee stood aside and allowed the other couple to enter. Then placing his hand on the small of her back he allowed Esmee to step into the car before him. The doors closed, and the older gentlemen pressed three and then asked Mychl what floor. Mychl smiled and responded "22"as he thanked the man for his courtesy.

Esmee's fragrance filled the elevator car, and the doors seemed to stay open On the third floor for an eternity. Finally, after what seemed like hours of anticipation, the shiny doors eased to a close and Mychl was finally alone with his dear sweet Esmee.

Without saying a word Mychl quickly turned towards Esmee and leaned in. His knee slipped between her thighs, parting her legs, and simultaneously his hands slipped down her sides. One hand slid over her hip and behind her thigh and lifted her knee up beside his hip. His other hand slipped around to the small of her back and gliding lower and lower till her cheek was firmly in hand. Leaning in even harder his body pressed her slightly against the wall as his mouth met hers for the first time. With perfect timing both their heads tilted and Mychl converged on Esmee's lower lip. Both of her hands went to the back of his head and she sighed ever so slightly as his hips rolled up and pressed into her. Their tongues met each other as both opened their mouths even more, inviting each other to taste even further.

In what turned out to be a very unwanted distraction, the elevator doors crashed open on floor 22. They both couldn't help but laugh as they looked at the door and saw the surprise on the woman's face who was staring at them. The women said something condescending, but it didn't matter! Taking Esmee's hand, Mychl led her down the hall, away from the gawking woman, and inside room 2244.

So much happened in the next few moments. In a whirlwind of clothes and limbs they crossed the room from the door to the bed. Esmee was able to rip off Mychl's shirt and lift his undershirt over his head and drop it on the floor. Mychl kicked off his shoes and used his feet to rip off his socks (because everyone knows socks on is UNACCEPTABLE ), all the while slipping Esmee's blouse over her head and off her shoulders. Mychl was pleased to see that the jeans fit Esmee so well that no belt was required, which allowed him to slip them over her hips and off her legs just after she crashed onto the bed. He took just a moment to look at her, before he joined her, to see her laying there in nothing but lacy red hipsters and a snug tank top. Her hands reached for him as she stared at his bare chest, and he fell onto the bed beside her.

Esmee's legs parted as Mychl rolled on top of her and his hips rested between her thighs. She lifted her knees up and clamped her calves across the small of his back urging him to press his full weight onto her. Mychl's hands slid up her arms and their fingers intertwined above her head as his mouth explored her neck. Mychl covered Esmee with a combination of licks, kisses, and nibbles all the way from that place behind her ear to the gentle fall of her shoulder. All the while his hips moving... swirling ...pressing his now extremely hard cock against her.

This continued for some time, but the very concept of time was so clouded right now. Unable to stand it any longer, Mychl leaned back and sat on his heels. Esmee, sensing the escalation, leaned up as well but kept her hands over her head allowing Mychl the opportunity to slip the tank top off of her body. Mychl slid Esmee's bra over her breasts, took both of them in his hands, and deeply sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. He allowed the nipple to slip in and out from between his lips many times before finally drawing it into his mouth and maintaining a gentle suction allowing his tongue to flick across her nipple.

Taking to his feet at the base of the bed, Mychl watched Esmee remove her last article of clothing. She tossed it over onto the chair and also watched Mychl as he unclasped his slacks and in one motion slipped his pants and underwear to the floor. All over the room lay little piles of crumpled clothes, the evidence of becoming naked with a purpose.

He stayed there for a moment just looking at her body. Knowingly, she leaned back to a laying position and stared at him also. They both began to allow their hands to explore their bodies. Esmee gliding one hand to cup her breast, her finger and thumb rolling a nipple between them. Her other hand fell between her legs and slowly slid up and down her smooth but sticky warmth. Mychl's cock was pulsing ever so slowly as he took it in his hand. Moving from the base to the tip and back again he would only pause at the top to allow his thumb to make a soft semi-circle on the head. Their hands became more and more deliberate with every motion.

Mychl could resist no longer. The sight of Esmee was intoxicating, but he was to the point where he had to feel her, he had to touch her, he had to taste her. He knelt at the base of the bed, and showing her complete understanding , Esmee scooted herself down to the edge and stuck both of her legs straight up into the air, all the while dragging the top of one foot along the back of her calf. Mychl's hands slid down her legs and rested on her hips as his mouth started behind one of her knees. His lips parted as he slid them down the backs of her thighs, slowly going from one side to the other. With each nibble, he moved lower and lower. Esmee spread her legs as Mychl reached her pussy. Her lips were swollen and warm, and Mychl pressed his mouth into the place where her leg met her body. Esmee's hands moved through his hair and pulled his face into her.

Extending his pointed tongue, Mychl started at the bottom and slowly slid his mouth up her slit. He didn't press in just yet, but instead just allowed his tongue to trace her folds. With every movement his strokes got longer and firmer till his tongue was parting her lips, allowing his saliva to mix with her wetness. Wanting to taste even more of her, Mychl's arms reached around her thighs and pulled her even harder into him. He flattened his tongue and dragged it over the entire length of her slit. One of his hands, which had been resting on her stomach, moved lower on her body, and he gently allowed his middle finger to explore her folds and find her clit, which he slowly began applying small amounts of pressure to as his finger eased back and forth. Esmee moaned loudly as this happened. This continued till the time when Mychl could take no more, and he again raised his head up removing his mouth from her, then pressing it in again allowing his tongue to penetrate her pussy. His tongue was searching inside her, pressing in as far as she would allow. Her taste flooded his mouth, and Mychl couldn't suppress his own moan at what this was doing to him.

Mychl removed his tongue from inside her and moved up to allow his tongue to replace his fingers at her clit. He allowed one of his arms to release its grasp of her leg and he slid his hand up between her legs, resting his index finger between her lips as his tongue flicked across her clit ever so slightly. First right to left, then back again, next down from on top, and again the reverse. Each pass he pressed his tongue harder onto her clit, his head swirling as he tasted her from every angle. Just at the moment his lips closed in around her clit, he slid his finger inside her. Esmee's nails dug into his scalp, as Mychl matched the sucking of his mouth on her clit with the thrusts of his finger.

Suddenly Esmee grabbed Mychl's head and pulled him up from the floor on top of her. The look on Esmee's face, and her heaving chest as she breathed deeply, showed her intention. Mychl leaned forward resting all of his weight on one of his arms, as he took his other hand and grabbed his cock guiding it between her legs. He slid it on top of her, allowing her wetness to lubricate him before easing it gently inside her. Inch by inch he pressed in, and once he had fully penetrated her, he kissed her again deeply, just enjoying the feel of her body enveloping him. Her legs wrapped around his back and they both began to thrust against one another. The speed ramped up much quicker than what would be normal. The room filled with moans and gasps as each one could not withhold what they were feeling. Knowing that the end was quickly approaching, Mychl took both of Esmee's legs in his hands and laid her calves on his shoulders, one hand moved to clutch onto her breast, while the other hugged her legs to his chest.

As he repeatedly slipped in and out of her, he wasn't sure if he was thrusting into her, or if she was drawing him in at will; regardless the tingles were multiplying at the tip of his cock. The sensation grew larger and more intense. It spread to his pelvis and up his spine and just as he could feel Esmee's body quivering and clinching on his, he came with an eruption inside her. Mychl cried out loudly as the waves of pleasure shot through his arms and down his legs, thrust by thrust getting even larger and more severe, until he was completely spent and he collapsed next to her gasping for air. They laid there for more than a moment. Words failed them, and would have been labored at any rate. Mychl and Esmee slipped into a blissful sleep as his fingers slowly slipped up and down her arm ...

... Mychl awoke with a start. Man, he was really going to have to move it to make his flight. The momentary worry of being late passed and he was consumed with the memory of the night. Where was she? Light poured into the room from the small crack of the curtains, and as Mychl squinted to see where she was, but he couldn't find her. Everything was as they had left it, save this ...

His clothes were neatly folded and sitting on the chair; on top laid a brief note, written by a woman's hand, that read, "Thank you for such a beautiful collision."

*****

The editorial assistance of WickedInside was greatly appreciated in writing this story.

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