31st Floor Ch. 01 by LandFalcon,LandFalcon

And we are now far enough apart that I can visually take in all of her at once…………..

So many layers to this woman…………………… In the space of a few minutes, she got me to risk this project and my company’s well respected reputation because I like body odor and she offered herself to me in a hotel hallway………….

Without warning, I suddenly realize I am naked in another way. What the hell have I done? She could be a professional and this is all a set up by a competitor to compromise me with a client.

I actually put together an operation like this once from the other side of fence. It was so easy. My client needed something on an opponent and all it took was a bit of ego stroking by a sexy woman and this moron went all in ……………..what do they say about men thinking with their ‘little head”? Because that was exactly what I had just been doing.

But in that scenario we used a knockout 26 year, not an older, strong, striking adult woman …………. And I know I would have walked right past the woman we used.

This woman took me on a visceral level with too much common ground (most folks don’t know about my tattoo work and as far as the odor kink…….). No, there is too much kismet to this.

However, I can’t seem to shut down my paranoia.

I start looking around the room trying to spot locations for hidden cameras and microphones. Knowing that if well placed, I won’t find them without a scanner, I realize I have two choices. Walk out or move forward.

And if this isn’t a setup, just the hallway episode would be enough to sink me. Luckily, people screwing in hallways, stairwells and elevators is not uncommon in Vegas and does not get examined much. Damn, I don’t like this feeling.

I feel my arousal draining away.

“Hey, you! Where the fuck did you go?” Her head cocked, she is standing across from me with her hands on her hips. Her affect is guileless. If she is a pro, she should farm out to Universal Studios or Mossad.

I want to believe my gut, but remain completely at sea…… this is not familiar turf at all.

“Sorry, I just have never done anything like that before. As you know I am here as a consultant and if I…………………….”

“Wait a second — WE were just fucking in the hallway.”

“Yeah, but you were the one who stepped to me first, back on the elevator.”

“Yes, I know all that. And that is why you got me so fucking excited. Most men would have backed away. Not only did you not back away, you fucking licked my armpit for Christ’s sake. Hell, when we were walking the hallway, I was so wet that I thought you might be able to hear my pussy lips squishing against each other.”

“Next, you took a big risk, just by taking off your shirt and joining me in some nipple torture. But when you dropped down between my legs, your bare ass hanging out, I thought you were the hottest thing on earth as you truly had ‘skin’ in the game.”

She laughs and waits for me to do the same, but I just I just stand there, trying to find my way into believing her or leaving.

“It might surprise you, but I don’t exactly do this on a regular basis.” She says with a shrug.

“Then just how often do you pick up men on elevators and have public sex with them?”

“Honey, I don’t know about you, but there are not a lot of options out there in our age bracket. I am actually a very private gal. I have a Tinder account and even a Silver Singles account, but have been severely disappointed in the pickings out there with maybe one or two exceptions. And when there was sex, it was pretty fucking vanilla.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“Well, to be accurate, you had two questions! One: No, I have never ‘picked up’ anyone on an elevator. Two: Yes, once in New York, I was staying at the Standard and had read in the Times about people openly fucking in the their glass walled rooms, in full view of folks on the Hi Line.”

“I convinced a co worker to do it with me but it wasn’t that much of a thrill and he was a lousy lover.”

“So just what is this about? You say you’re not some cougar or an exhibitionist………..”

I feel like I am losing control of this exchange.

“First of all, I think cougars and milfs go after young men, not someone who I am pretty sure is older than me.”

“Fair point, but still not an explanation of what is taking place here.”

“For me, it started on our first elevator ride. I watched your eyes, you checked me out but you weren’t leering or lecherous. That in itself was actually a turn on. Now that I know what you do, I understand a bit more of how you assess people, cold and analytical.”

“But you had a tell…………. I saw you inhaling me. I know my funk is strong and most people step away after I have worked out. But I like body odor and think that Americans in particular have some serious hang ups in that regard. You seemed to be a bit like me.”

“Then you did that cold thing when we met again later that night. Hell, I took a chance and played with my bosoms for you and got no reaction. I just figured I read you wrong. But I will admit that I have been masturbating while fantasizing about you taking me in the hallway……

…………..wait a second, you’re interrogating me, aren’t you? You have that look again.”

“When you started grilling me, you were flustered, almost scared……. It was kind of endearing, even cute, but now you are Mr Security Man again and I feel a million miles away from you. So maybe we both made a mistake and you should just get the fuck out of my room.”

We just stand there, staring at each other. Throughout this conversation, I had totally forgotten/ignored the fact that we are both completely naked, so intense was our dialogue.

The situation is actually ludicrous. I begin to laugh, and shaking my head, I decide to go with my gut…………..”I’m sorry, I think I owe you an apology.”

“Ya think?” She no longer has both hands on her hips. She is now aggressively leaning forward. One hand on a hip, the other on her bent knee. Chin out…………… “Wait a second, I think I get this now……… Did you think I was a pro? Or that this was some fucking game? Oh dude, you live in a weird, fucked up world.”

“No, well…….. sort of……yeah, I had some concerns. I usually don’t get this vulnerable, I like being in control most of the time.”

“Me too, but the only thing I like more is being TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL and you and I got there for a moment. I’m just not sure of how to get back there now.” As she says this, she relaxes her aggressive posture and stands upright, letting her arms fall to her side, assuming a passive position and I do the same.

Damn, this woman has some power and yet the courage to turn around and go absolutely vulnerable. I am frankly fascinated.

We continue to face each other, two heavily tattooed closet freaks, past middle age, trying to find a way back to the wild, free space they had so recently lost. Still a bit on the back foot, I drop my gaze and focus on her body work.

The foundation of the tree that rises from her belly is a Polynesian mash up of Maori, Samoan and Marquesan motifs and really well done. In my passion, I missed much of the subtle grey work. There are wind bars flanking the circle and tree, running up her rib cage and over her breasts.

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