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Martin walked through the hotel lobby, holding his rucksack in front, to hide his raging bulge from the greeting staff in the lobby. He got into his hotel room, after waiting forever for the elevator, still tasting her in his mouth. He couldn’t believe the depth of that kiss – her tongue reached the back of his throat – it may be the most erotic kiss he’s ever experienced. What he was left with though was a raging erection, and it needed to be taken care of.

He lay on the bed, removed his jeans and started stroking his uncut cock, soaking from the amount of precum – he was surprised it didn’t leave a noticeable wet patch. He got only a few strokes done, when his phone beeped – it was Ella. What was she home already, he thought, apparently she really did live close to the hotel.

“Enjoyed my evening – hope that was okay” Ella messaged.

Martin continued stroking his cock while he fumbled a reply back to Ella, trying not to drop his phone and ruin the moment. He didn’t want to tell her what he was doing – that was maybe a little too forward even with the pace of events of the evening.

“Oh, driving in India will never be the same again – I have a sudden fondness for roundabouts”

Martin grabbed his cock even harder, thinking about how Ella, and how her body must look under those clothes. What was the shape of her nipples? How did her breasts look? What was her pussy like? How does it taste? He did have a sense of what her pussy may taste like given the depth of that arousing deep kiss. He was close to climaxing when the phone whistled again, making him stop and focus on the text.

“Damn, this woman is already edging me and she doesn’t even know it,” Martin said out loud to an empty hotel room.

“Me too. I hope to do more driving with you soon.” teased Ella’s response.

Martin smiled and resumed his stroking, slowing it down, as his toes were stretched, he was close, very close. This would be his first ejaculation in India – it had been a busy week. He couldn’t hold on any longer, and he decided to let loose. Martin came, a lot. He hadn’t cum that much in a very long time, hot, thick and creamy and it shot right up to his chest. It even surprised him.

He relaxed his breathing again, looked at the ceiling, still in a dream land, his cock still hard as a rock. He got up, grabbed a cloth, cleaned up (which took a lot longer than usual) and went back to lie on the bed. Martin picked up his phone, and reread the message from Ella, and smiled.

“Me too – shame the office isn’t further away” noted Martin’s reply. Ella instantly replied.

“Phew! I thought I had offended – you took a long time to reply”. Ooops thought Martin – but he couldn’t have waited any longer, he needed that release – if for nothing else, medical reasons.

“Sorry, something came up. Back now.”, Martin shot a reply back.

“Was it something I could have helped with?” Ella replied.

There was no emoji or wink – so maybe she was being sincere thinking it was a work related thing. Martin wasn’t sure how to play this. He couldn’t tell her that he was gripping his rock hard cock, spraying his chest with cream, thinking how she looked naked! Ella may really be that innocent, or she may be a siren – he couldn’t yet tell.

“Yeah, I think you might have been able to assist. Will shout the next time” – he played it safe with an angled view of the truth.

“Happy to lend a hand. I am now in bed, looking forward to picking you up in the morning.”

Martin was in a daze, was all Bornova travesti this code? He couldn’t tell. He did dare a question to see how Ella would respond, and besides, he was intrigued at how this beauty slept at night.

“Me too – quick one; what colour are you wearing now?”

“Yellow. goodnight”.

Okay then – she doesn’t sleep naked and she didn’t hesitate to answer, this was a good step forward, a relieved Martin thought. He laid down his phone, and as he rolled over, he felt his cock up against the mattress – still hard. He couldn’t let this go to waste, he laid back over, moved his hand down, grabbed his base and stroked long and soft, feeling his skin move up over his wet head, and then down again, each time producing a little more moisture. Every so often Martin would bring his hand up, and lick his fingers, tasting his own juices. He liked his own taste and found it highly erotic. It wasn’t long before he came again, and this time, he couldn’t be bothered to get up – “it was a hotel”, he rolled over and fell asleep.

Martin woke up early, with the usual morning wood, but didn’t have time to take care of it. Quickly showering and grabbing some breakfast, he was out at the front of the hotel waiting for Ella to come by. He wasn’t sure what time she had said, it was more of a rough time, but one thing he knew, he did not want to miss this ride.

“I am at your lights” the phone alerted, making Martin’s heart skip a little. He stood up, and ushered out of the hotel lobby, bowing to the staff who wished him a happy and blessed day – “my friends you have no idea how blessed I am” he thought to himself.

Martin watched Ella pull in, and he put his bag in the back seat and sat in the front. Ella was a vision, her perfume filled the car, and Martin was intoxicated. She was wearing a skirt, with a little split, that exposed a little flesh as her knee raised in unison with the pedal usage. It was the first look at her leg.

Martin wasn’t sure what to say, so he just entered into small talk, hoping the events of the last evening wasn’t a sudden regret balloon for Ella. Ella showed no signs of regret and conversation was energetic and engaging, with the odd flirtatious remark. This relaxed Martin.

The morning drive was chaotic – motorbikes, scooters, horses, tuk-tuk’s all weaving in and out with no hint of any sort of order. There was crazy, but clearly everyone knew the crazy and it seemed to work. They came to a roundabout and it flashed 60 seconds up above. They both flashed back to the last roundabout, and each dared not to speak, for fear of breaking the spell.

The light finally went green, and Ella took off. “Definitely not as memorable as last night’s roundabout” quipped Martin, as he looked out the side of the car as Ella sped through the morning rush hour. Ella smiled, relieved at the silence being broken, but also excited at the acknowledgement that something more was going on.

“Mmm, too many cars around, could be anyone from the office. There will be other roundabouts” answered Ella without breaking her concentration from the road. Martin smiled, put his hand on her thigh, squeezed. Ella put her hand on his, and squeezed it back.

They pulled into the office, and were back into focus mode. They couldn’t let anyone see what was burning in both their souls, but each would linger on a glance a little second longer than normal in various meetings. It was a Friday, and after a long week, Martin felt he should take some of Bornova travestileri the team out for drinks and dinner – a get to know the new boss sort of thing.

After floating this idea, it was quickly sold, and plans were made. Ella said she would be a little late, as she had an errand to run, but would meet us there. This initially disappointed Martin, as he was looking forward to riding with her again, but this time he had to make do with another member of his team being his driver.

They arrived, walking through a nondescript entrance, into a large room with a circular bar in the middle, a stage at the back with a live band, and then tables around the side. They had secured some tables at the back, and the drinks and food were being ordered. One of the team played “daddy”, ordering lots of shareables, as Martin was not a big spice person. Ella had still not arrived.

It was hard to talk over the loud music – there was a lot of nodding and smiles, with the assumption that the other person understood. Martin, sat back, missing Ella, but enjoyed listening to familiar pop tunes being rendered by the local band, with just an ever subtle Indian accent. “Hotel California” will never be the same again.

What felt like an eternity, Ella finally arrived, breezing in and finding the crew. She was wearing a body hugging blue dress, showing off every single curve of her perfect body. Martin had to quickly compose himself as he could feel the world standing still, as he took in this vision. Hoping no one had noticed him staring, he stood up, offering Ella a seat. She was even more beautiful, if that was at all possible. She shot him a smile and a twinkle and sat down.

Ella pushed by Martin and the table, as he stood, purposely rubbing her buttocks up against his front. She could feel his hardness, and thought to herself, “dress seems to be working”. Sitting down, Martin caught a glimpse of her ample bosom, as both breasts were pushed together, unforced, creating a cleavage that drew any eye following right down to where it met blue fabric.

Martin’s discomfort immediately presented itself, as it pushed against his tight denim jeans, as if his cock was reaching out like a thirsty man looking for his next cup of water. Ella knew what she was doing and it was working. She could tell Martin was having a physical reaction, and she loved it.

The evening went on, and after a few drinks, Ella wanted to dance. She tried to coax Martin up, but his 50 year old body had long since given up the dancing queen. Undeterred, Ella went to the dance floor herself and started to move. Martin had seen Bollywood movies before, with their endless singing/dancing, but hadn’t paid much attention to them before. However, what he was witnessing right before him was this blue adorned Indian goddess, seductively moving each limb of her body, in a way that slowed time around them.

He could not take his eyes off of her. Ella was clearly into the music, as her eyes were closed, as she rolled her head around slowly, arms and hips in unison. Martin could not believe that this vision was tonsil deep in his mouth only 24 hrs ago.

He was snapped out of his trance, by a member of his team asking him a question. “Damn – need to fire him in the morning!” Martin thought. It was probably a good thing, as he was sure someone must have caught him dreamingly looking at Ella’s every move.

The night continued, until it was time to head home. It was deemed that Ella had 1 glass of Travesti bornnova red wine too many, and one of the team insisted he drive her home and she could Uber to get her car in the morning. Martin was not at all happy at this decision, but couldn’t offer a single word of protestation. He had to smile through gritted teeth, and agree this was the best course. Ella was mad at herself, because she wanted to feel what that bulge in Martin’s trousers as much as Martin wanted to feel her breasts in his hand.

The sexual tension between the two could have been bottled up and sold. Yet both had to smile and not show a single ounce of this to anyone.

When Martin was dropped at his hotel, his erection had died down, and therefore walking through the lobby was no longer the logistical challenge that was the previous evening. He flopped onto the bed, all disappointed, picking up the phone he messaged Ella “Hope you got home safe. Loved the blue dress btw”.

He rolled over not expecting a reply, but a few minutes later, a message was sitting there “Thank you – I could feel it made an impact. Sorry for drinking too much. I really didn’t!”. Oooh Martin’s erection suddenly popped up, as the realization that she had not only felt his cock, but was not shy to admit it.

Ella was in bed, while her head was a little light, she was in full control, and reaching down, she could feel her moisture. She wanted Martin so much, to see her, to hold her, to touch her. She ached to have his hand slip down her front, part her lips and soak his fingers with her wetness. Ella had not had a yearning for a man like this ever. What was it? Was it because he was foreign? An automatic exotic/unknown element built in? No it wasn’t that. She pondered this, as she slowly stroked her clit, finally concluding it was his quiet stated confidence and humor that drew her in.

Martin, had released his cock and was now stroking, and felt he could be a little more daring in his reply – “Speaking of that, taking care of the problem that was a result of the blue dress”. Martin’s heart was racing, he basically admitted he was masturbating, in real time, to Ella. How was this going to go?

Ella, receiving the message, shot a wicked smile across her face, as she pressed harder and a little faster on her clit. She was getting real close now as she could feel waves of pleasure flow through her body in a way she had never experienced before. Ella came hard, muffling her sounds as not to wake up others in the household, her fingers coated in her moisture.

Playfully, she picked up her phone, snapped a picture of her sticky fingers, and sent “view once” photo to Martin. She nervously waited for a reply.

Martin, upon receiving this photo, couldn’t believe what he was looking at, though it disappeared as quickly as it arrived, leaving an imprint burned on his brain. He wanted to take those fingers and lick them clean. This was enough though for him to shoot another thick stream of hot cum all over his hand and stomach. He picked up his phone, snapped a photo of his fingers, covered in his white hot cum. Though should he send a similar photo? It was one thing for a lady to send a highly erotic photo of her sticky moisturized webbed fingers, but does it work in reverse?

The answer to that question came from Ella “Well?” and Martin knew to hit send.

This was their first sex-text-photo, cum drenched sticky fingers. Martin had never experienced this before, and Ella had never sent anything like this ever in her life. She replied with a heart emoji as well as noting it was very hot. What was going on between the two of them?

Bidding a goodnight to each other, they agreed to meet tomorrow – neither knew what that meant, but two hearts were racing faster than normal in a northern India city that night.

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