So I went into a bar in the center of town. There was a lively crowd of people, most of them much younger than I. But that didn’t matter, I thought,...since I was only going to have a glass of wine and enjoy the scene. To my surprise, after a couple of minutes a very pretty young brunette came up to me and asked me if I would buy her a drink. It’s true that I had been admiring her from a distance as she danced with a young man, but I had had no intention of getting her attention. She was in her. I still play for another thirty minutes just enjoying the pleasure ripples. That was soon interrupted by the opening of my door.On instinct, I assume it’s my mom and roll to my belly and pretend to be asleep. The door closes and I continue to lay there just in case she comes back. Oh boy was I wrong about that being my mom.Seconds later, I feel hands on my thighs. One of my thighs was pushed up and opened my pussy wider. A face was buried into my pussy. I gripped the sheets and put my face to. When I began talking with him, I ‘let slip’ that I wanted to visit him (that is slight usage of subtle poetics for vis-à-vis sit on him). He agreed that the next night, after his show, I should go to his hotel room, of which he suggested, so he didn’t need much convincing. The next night was muggy. I walked up to the large hotel with its flash entrance and enormous foyer. The receptionist greeted me in silence as I strolled past, my rubber soles squeaking along the marble. Suddenly very aware of my nakedness, I bent down and grabbed the towel again, trying to soak up as much of my juices as I could. Wiping down the chair and desk, then the floor. I knew Id need another towel, but tried to get as much as I could. I slipped my pants back on, pulled the white tank back over my head and creaked open the door to the hallway. I peaked out and saw that Peters door was again shut and there was no sign of him. I ran silently up the stairs to my room on the top floor,.