Whiskey at the Grand Hotel Bar

[trio]

Teaser: He groaned, his hips jerking forward, and she felt the tip of him brush against her entrance. "Slowly," she breathed, and he nodded, positioning himself at her opening. He pushed in inch by inch, filling her completely, stretching her until she thought she might break. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that had her nails digging into his back.
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. All sexual acts depicted in this story take place between consenting adults. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.

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Title: Whiskey at the Grand Hotel Bar
Author: Trio

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Whiskey at the Grand Hotel Bar

In the dimly lit lounge of the luxurious Downtown Grand Hotel, a young woman in her early thirties sat alone at the bar, nursing a gin and tonic. The gentle clinking of ice against the glass was the only sound punctuating the low murmur of the evening's conversations around her. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the glamour of the chandeliers and the rich fabric of the velvet armchairs. The air had the scent of expensive cologne and the faint hint of a distant ocean breeze wafting in from the open terrace doors.

The bartender, a middle-aged man with a friendly smile and a twinkle in his eye, noticed her lingering gaze and leaned over the counter. "Is this your first time here?" he asked, placing a napkin in front of her with a flourish. She nodded, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. "It's quite the spot, isn't it?" he continued, pouring her a top-shelf whiskey. "Compliments of the house," he whispered conspiratorially.

As she took the first sip of the amber liquid, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, unfurling like a blossom in the first light of spring. The whiskey was smooth, with notes of caramel and oak that danced on her tongue. She swirled it in the glass, watching the light catch the amber hues and cast them against the polished mahogany of the bar. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, but she attributed it to the comforting buzz of alcohol.

The door to the lounge opened, and in walked a man—tall, with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. His eyes locked onto hers from across the room, and she felt a jolt of electricity run through her. He approached the bar, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet beneath him. She took another sip of her drink, her heart racing, and felt the heat from his gaze even as he remained several feet away.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, his voice a velvet rumble that seemed to resonate in the very air around them. She looked up, meeting his eyes, and felt her breath catch in her throat. His smile was a promise, a question, and a challenge all at once. She hesitated, then nodded, gesturing for him to join her. The bartender raised an eyebrow but said nothing, filling a second glass with the same whiskey.

Their conversation flowed easily, like a river carving its path through the evening. They talked of travel and art, of laughter and loss. His fingers brushed against hers as he made a point about the brushstrokes in a painting she admired, and she felt a shiver of anticipation run down her spine. The whiskey was working its magic, loosening her inhibitions and making her skin feel alive with every touch.

As the night grew darker outside, the air between them grew thicker with desire. His hand moved to the small of her back, and she leaned into him, her breath coming in shallow gasps. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. "Would you like to take this conversation to a more... private setting?"

Her pulse quickened, and she nodded, the world around them fading into a blur of colours and sounds. He took the lead, guiding her through the hotel's labyrinthine halls with a confidence that made her feel both thrilled and slightly dizzy. They stepped into the elevator, the doors closing with a soft click that echoed in the sudden silence.

Their eyes met, and she knew what was about to happen. The anticipation was palpable, a living entity that filled the small space with its intensity. He reached out and traced a finger along the column of her throat, down to the neckline of her dress. She shivered, feeling his touch like a brand on her skin.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, revealing the quiet sanctity of a hotel room. She had no memory of how they'd arrived there, but she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the heat building between them, the promise of something wild and unbridled waiting just beyond the threshold.

With a gentle push, he guided her into the room, his hand firm yet tender on her waist. The door clicked shut behind them, and she found herself standing in the middle of the opulent space, surrounded by plush furniture and the faint scent of vanilla candles. The man stepped closer, his eyes dark with hunger as he took in the sight of her. She felt a thrill of excitement, mixed with a hint of trepidation, as he reached up and began to unbutton her dress.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the fabric whispered down her body, pooling at her feet. She stepped out of the dress, and his gaze raked over her, lingering on the lacy black lingerie that barely contained her curves. His eyes trailed down to her pussy, which was already damp with desire. She felt a blush creep up her neck as she realised he could see the outline of her arousal through the flimsy material.

He stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hand moving to cup her face and turn it towards his. His kiss was deep and demanding, his tongue slipping between her lips to dance with hers. She moaned into his mouth, her hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against her own.

Their clothes fell away piece by piece, until they were both naked, their bodies pressed tightly together. His hands roamed her body, tracing the curves of her hips, the swell of her breasts, and the softness of her belly. His touch was like fire, setting her skin alight with passion. He knelt before her, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed her panties to the side and kissed her inner thigh. She gasped, her legs trembling, as he moved closer to her pussy.

He took his time, kissing and licking every inch of her with a reverence that made her feel like a goddess. She could feel his hot breath against her sensitive flesh, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear. When he finally touched his tongue to her clit, she let out a moan that echoed through the room. It was a gentle touch at first, a feather-light caress that had her bucking her hips towards him, begging for more.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her, and increased the pressure, his tongue swirling and flicking, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She grabbed onto his hair, her nails digging into his scalp as the pleasure built. Her legs began to shake, and she felt the beginnings of an orgasm coil tightly within her. He knew exactly what she needed, and he gave it to her without hesitation, his mouth working her clit with an expertise that left her breathless.

Her climax crashed over her like a wave, making her cry out and clench around his face. He drank from her eagerly, savouring her sweetness as she rode the crest of pleasure. When she finally collapsed against the wall, panting and trembling, he stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling wolfishly. "Ready for more?" he asked, his voice low and gruff with lust. She nodded, unable to form coherent words, and he scooped her into his arms, carrying her to the bed.

The mattress was cool against her fevered skin as he laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers. He climbed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the plush comforter. His cock was hard and thick, a testament to his desire for her. She could feel the heat of it against her thigh, and she reached down to stroke it, her hand moving with a newfound confidence born from her recent release.

He groaned, his hips jerking forward, and she felt the tip of him brush against her entrance. "Slowly," she breathed, and he nodded, positioning himself at her opening. He pushed in inch by inch, filling her completely, stretching her until she thought she might break. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that had her nails digging into his back.

Once he was fully seated inside her, he paused, looking down at her with a fierce intensity that made her stomach flip. Then he began to move, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm that sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body. She arched up to meet him, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. His strokes grew faster, deeper, and she could feel another orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in her belly.

The room was a whirl of sensations—his weight on top of her, his cock moving inside her, his breath hot on her neck, his hands gripping her hips. The only thing that anchored her to reality was the sound of their bodies slapping together, a primal music that grew louder with each passing moment.

Her second climax hit her like a hurricane, ripping through her with the force of a thousand suns. She screamed his name, her body convulsing around him as he drove into her with renewed vigour. He followed her over the edge, his own release hot and powerful as it filled her. They lay there, tangled together, for what felt like an eternity, their breathing slowly returning to normal.

When he finally pulled out, she felt empty, a void where he had been. He rolled over, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest, her head on his shoulder. They lay there, the only sounds their ragged breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. The whiskey had done its job, leaving her feeling loose and relaxed, yet utterly alive with a newfound desire that seemed to pulse with each beat of her heart.

And as she listened to the steady thump of his heart, she knew that this was just the beginning of an unforgettable night.

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The next morning, the sun peeked through the heavy hotel curtains, casting a soft glow on their intertwined forms. She stirred, the events of the previous night playing through her mind like a vivid dream. The man beside her, now her lover, sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling with each breath. The whiskey-induced haze had lifted, but the memories remained, etched in her mind like a brand, searing hot and unforgettable.

Her hand trailed down his chest, the coarse hair tickling her fingertips. She felt the warmth of his skin, the solidity of his muscles. His arm tightened around her waist, and she felt the gentle throb of his morning arousal. She smirked, recalling his words from the night before, "Honey, we need to do this every year on our anniversary." It was a promise she had no intention of letting him forget.

The woman slid out of bed, her body feeling alive and reborn. She padded to the bathroom, the cool marble floor sending a shiver up her spine. She took a moment to gaze at herself in the mirror, the aftermath of passion painted on her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. As she turned on the shower, the sound of the water woke him, and he followed her, his eyes never leaving her naked form.

Under the steamy spray, they kissed again, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. He took the soap from her hand, lathering it up before running it over her body, paying special attention to her breasts and pussy, which were still sensitive from the night's escapades. She moaned, feeling the beginnings of another climax, her body eager to be claimed once more.

They washed each other slowly, the intimacy of the moment heightening their connection. The warm water cascading down their bodies, mixing with the soap, created a slick dance of passion that had them both panting for more. He pushed her against the shower wall, his cock standing at attention as he entered her again, the wetness of the shower enveloping them in a steamy embrace.

Their lovemaking was slower this time, more deliberate, as if they were savouring each stroke and caress. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his firm ass as he pumped into her. The water hit their skin in a rhythmic pattern, mimicking the tempo of their lovemaking. She threw her head back, the spray hitting her face like a warm kiss from the heavens, as he found that perfect angle that had her crying out his name.

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Their anniversary tradition was born in that hotel room, a secret shared between them that grew more intense with each passing year. It became a sacred ritual, one that transcended the ordinary and mundane, transporting them to a realm of pure passion and desire.

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As the years rolled by, they returned to the Downtown Grand Hotel, always to the same room, always on the same date. They would arrive, the whispers of past encounters echoing in the air, and reenact the night that had changed everything. The whiskey no longer held the same power over them, but the magic remained, woven into the very fabric of their love.

[Shocker]

This was a through and through excellent story, and I loved the descriptiveness of it.

There is one minor nitpick, why would a bartender pour somebody a glass of whiskey, when she is clearly drinking gin and tonic. It’s more usual to give a guest a drink one knows they are enjoying. Or they ask, if they could offer something very special.

[trio]

Thank you for the feedback, great that you liked it. I did this once in a bar in the UK. Not exactly like this, but a class mate (corporate tech training or something like that) was drinking a gin an tonic at the other side of the bar, and I had ordered myself a whiskey, I noticed her and offered mine to her. She left her drink and we kept drinking (not the fast way - doing shots), sipping whiskey all night long.

This was a through and through excellent story, and I loved the descriptiveness of it.

There is one minor nitpick, why would a bartender pour somebody a glass of whiskey, when she is clearly drinking gin and tonic. It’s more usual to give a guest a drink one knows they are enjoying. Or they ask, if they could offer something very special.

[Claire]

I'll be honest, I don't think I will get warm with your writing style. But I wanted to say that I think it works much better for this story with its almost fairytale like feeling compared to the Punisher or Day at the Beach story.

And I enjoy the conceptual ideas behind your stories that step away from cliché erotica or what you might consider manstream at least on this forum. Here you are giving us an experienced couple in a consensual setting telling us the origin story of their anniversary tradition. And you're doing that on a forum that mostly features stories about young women getting raped. I really like the willingness to go for something a little different.

[RapeU]

I like to drink coke. It's my favorite soda. Every once in a while, I'll get a vanilla coke instead of regular because I want that special flavor.

This story is like vanilla coke. Not my absolute favorite, but every now and then I'll want to revisit it because it's different in a good way.