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The Deeper, The Better

He's not so shy after all...

By Rhea Rose Published 4 years ago 12 min read
5
Source: Unknown

I met this man at a work conference once. He wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but he was easy on the eyes; no more than 6 feet tall and no noticeable muscle tone. The most obvious thing about him was his shy disposition.

I had no colleagues at the conference and neither did he. We sat next to each other on the first day of the conference, but we didn’t talk.

I was seated in one of the back rows with an empty seat next to me. He stumbled into the auditorium a little late. Without saying a word, he pointed at the vacant seat to my left. I didn’t say anything either; I stood and gave him room to pass and take the available seat.

He smelled nice; his cologne was expensive. That invited my gaze to his clean, bright smile. It was a shy smile, and he had a pleasant countenance.

We didn’t talk for the following two hours that we spent watching presentations. I remained cognizant, however, of his presence. His cologne demanded my attention, and he piqued my curiosity. Where is he from? What cologne was he wearing? Why was he late?

So many questions penetrated my mind, but I remained silent. At the end of that presentation, we made our way, along with the 200 people who sat in the auditorium, into the atrium of the hotel. Eventually, I lost him and his scent in the crowd of 200 strangers.

~~~~

The next morning, I woke up with him on my mind. I needed answers to all of my questions. When the time came, I went to the auditorium intending to find him and to spark a conversation. I got there early and watched the two doors as people poured into the large space. I hoped he would get there early so we could chat before the presentations began. He didn't.

He shuffled his way to sit next to me 15 minutes late. I was sitting in the same seat as the day before, so it was no miracle that he found me. He smiled at me and sat. I wasn’t sure if he was flirting with me or just being polite.

I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, so I avoided thinking about it further. It’s a habit of mine to romanticize something as minute as a smile; I combatted that by accepting his smile as just a smile. I simpered at him and went back to taking notes. Despite my efforts to be unbothered, his cologne taunted me, and more questions about him inundated my mind.

At the end of the presentations, everyone made their way out of the auditorium for lunch. I got up to follow suit, but I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was him. His eyes bore a shyness in them that made me want to ease his apprehension.

“Hi, how’s it going?” I smiled as we teetered through the crowd.

He was walking alongside me now. “Hi, it’s going well," he grinned at me. I was completely taken aback and barely maintained my composure. "My name is Felix,” he added.

His voice was the epitome of manhood: deep, low, strong, and controlled. I’ve heard a lot of deep voices that often resonate through walls. But Felix’s voice was so deep it summoned an unusual subservience from me. His voice lured me, as sirens beguiled men. My mouth was open, and my eyes were fixated on his mouth, almost begging him to speak again. I was jolted back to reality when his lips curved into a smile.

I didn’t realize that we had stopped walking. We were standing by a wall outside the auditorium. And his hand was in mine for a handshake that lasted way too long.

I compelled myself to speak. “I’m Noelle,” I said. I was so embarrassed. I released his hand and forced my eyes to look everywhere but at his mouth.

“Thanks for saving me a seat again,” he laughed.

Again, with every bellow of his voice, I was flung into a world of submission. He didn’t know it, but if he told me to, I would have spread my legs for him there and then.

“You’re welcome,” I said. “You might want to show up on time tomorrow.”

He laughed. “I will. I overslept today,” he explained. “Can I get you lunch to thank you properly?”

“Yeah, that would be nice. I’m famished,” I said as we walked towards the exit.

~~~~

We decided on sushi and found a spot close to the hotel to avoid any extra commute or walking. While we ate, I learned a lot about him. Felix was from San Diego. His cologne that had ignited so much lust in me was Giorgia Armani, and he’s chronically late.

“I wanted to say something to you yesterday after the presentations, but before I could, I lost you in the crowd,” he admitted.

“Yes!” I thought. I had his attention.

“I was looking for you too. Today, I went to the auditorium early to see if you’d be there so I could say something. But guess who was late?”

We laughed together and exchanged childish glances for the time that we spent together. I was just as shy as he was. And though there were moments of silence, it wasn’t awkward. I think we had a mutual connection and an understanding of our timidness. Every word he uttered to me was magic. I couldn’t relieve myself of his dominion over me and my thoughts. His voice was fueling a passion inside me that I didn't know how to contain.

Initially, I didn't find him particularly attractive. But as he sat across the table, I noticed some prominent veins in his arms. Felix was slender, but not skinny. He didn’t have big biceps, shoulders, or back that usually appealed to me, but he was fit. And though he was slim, he looked strong.

As my eyes explored his physique, I slipped into another daydream. I wanted him to show me just how strong he was. Felix, in my head, did a great job of commanding and manhandling me: pushing me against walls and pulling my hair.

I wanted him to whisper in my ear. I wanted him to tell me what to do with his voice and with his eyes. I wanted to be his little slut.

Interrupting my thoughts, Felix reached his fingers to run them over my hand that was clenched into a fist on the table. I was tight with desire for him. As he touched me, I relaxed to feel his skin against mine. He wanted me too, and I only noticed when he touched my hand.

“Felix,” I started.

He raised his eyes to look into mine.

“I want to feel your strong, warm body against mine,” I said as we interlaced our fingers.

He pulled my hand to his face and kissed it before standing to his feet. He placed some cash on the table, but I didn’t know how much because my eyes never left his. I awaited his response with irrevocable submission.

“Let’s go,” he instructed. And his voice incited even more desire in me.

I slowly rose to my feet, gathered my things, and we walked toward the exit. We trekked to the hotel in silence intending to skip the networking reception that was scheduled after lunch. His eyes said a lot to me. He was so calm and intentional with everything. The way he opened the doors for me was seductive and the way he pressed the button to the elevator was seductive.

We got to his floor and sauntered toward his room. He looked into my eyes, and I looked into his, and despite our lust, we enjoyed the tease of withheld physical intimacy. It was different, and I delighted in the anticipation.

As I walked into his room, I became more eager to feel his embrace, but even then, he didn’t touch me. He sat on his bed, and I remained standing as he looked me over. When he finally walked toward me, my body tightened -- eager for his caress. He stood before me without touching me, dangling the promise of a great fuck.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

I raised my eyes to meet him, unprepared for the question. “Dominate my body and do whatever you want to me," I said, completely weak to his presence.

Finally, he kissed me so tenderly that I couldn't contain myself; I moaned as if he was penetrating me. He used his fingers to lift my chin before he kissed the front of my neck. He was getting more aggressive, but not in a way to scare me. He was manhandling me in ways that soaked my panties. Felix was relaxing into the power he had over me; his shyness had dissipated.

“Oh my god,” I moaned against his chest.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you,” he whispered in my ear. His voice was even sexier in the privacy of his hotel room. It was deeper than it had been in the two hours we spent chatting. His sexual energy added a depth to his voice that mobilized the slut in me.

I got on my knees and waited for him to unveil his dick. I arched my back and looked into his eyes as he unbuckled his pants -- slowly and deliberately.

His shaft revealed itself once his pants and underwear fell to his ankles. It was longer and thicker than I had imagined. Just like his voice, it demanded a servility from me that I gave eagerly. I hugged his dick with my hands before I licked it from its base. I licked slowly and allowed my mouth to fully salivate before I engulfed his phallus between my cheeks and tongue. It was rock hard. As I twisted my neck and tongue to accommodate and pleasure him, I enjoyed the sounds of his deep moans ricocheting off the walls. Felix’s moans made me feel like a woman in a way that I’d never felt before. My pussy had never been that wet before.

By the time I got off my knees, I had soaked through my panties. He pulled my body to his and began kissing me again.

“Strip for me,” he told me as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Turned on by his request, I slowly unbuttoned my silk blouse and let it fall to the floor. My skirt piled onto my blouse after I unzipped; I stood before him in my bra and panty. Continuing my striptease, I removed my bra and felt my breasts rest on my chest. It felt good to be so exposed to him.

“Come here,” he said lowly. And I walked toward him.

I was between his slim, muscular thighs, looking down on his face. He clasped my nipple between his lips, teasing it with his tongue. Then, he relaxed onto the bed, allowing me to lie on him as he sucked my breasts fervently.

In his embrace, I felt his arm reach for my ass and I thought he was going to grope it. Instead, his fingers shifted my panties.

“You want this dick, don’t you?”

“So fucking bad,” I said.

He used his fingers to twiddle my clit and tease my pussy. The nerve endings in my clit became attentive.

“Felix, don’t stop.”

His lips on my nipples and his fingers on my clit synchronized to stimulate an orgasm.

He then rolled over to place me on my back and kissed me some more before sliding into my wet, slippery pussy. I welcomed his penetration with a soft moan.

“So tight,” he whispered in my ear as he glided in and out of me. His deep voice and curved dick stimulated and amplified my orgasms.

“Come here, baby. Bend over,” he ordered.

I was so eager that I jumped right on my knees: face-down-ass-up.

He fingered my ass for a minute before he slid inside my pussy again. It felt so good; I was sure that the folks in the lobby could hear me calling his name.

“Felix, baby, don't stop!”

“I won’t, baby girl.”

His voice, the size of his dick, the curve of his dick, and the deliberateness of his strokes epitomized sex for me. And I was glad that I gave up my pussy that day.

As his strokes got faster and deeper, I could feel my pussy oozing; the juice was running down my inner thigh. He made my pussy dripping wet.

He got off the bed and said: “Come here.”

I walked toward the window that overlooked the city. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, holding me close to his warm body as his erect penis pressed against my stomach. As he moved on to kiss my neck, I turned to face the city and spread my legs, inviting him to enter me again.

His dick was still rock hard when he thrusted into me, and my pussy was still wet. He spanked my ass cheeks as they bounced onto his pelvis before he pulled on my hair.

"Like that baby?" he asked with his sexy voice.

“I’m cumming again,” I cried. His voice, the spank, and the arch of my back from the pull on my hair made me feel like his whore, and I loved it. My walls contracted on his dick as I climaxed.

“Hold it,” he ordered. “I feel that pussy tightening on me, I’m cumming too.”

He told me not to cum and I tried. But as his strokes got deeper and deeper, his moans got louder and louder; I couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Felix, I’m cumming,” I screamed again.

He spanked me again before pulling out to spurt his warm cum onto my ass. Our bodies crashed onto the window for support once we were done. We spent the afternoon going rounds and rounds, and talking about how good each round was.

It was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.

THE END.

Don't forget to follow me on Twitter for updates.

If you liked this story, you might also enjoy Chantel: The 'Good' Church Girl.

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5

About the Creator

Rhea Rose

Sex stories that explore every desire and inspire sexual confidence.

*This is an adult space for adult consumption.*

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