Hot, on the Roof Hot, One View

This is one person's perspective of the same complex erotic coupling. Please, find the other to compare... or to explain everything.

It's not important how I came to lose the love of my life and to start a new career at what could perhaps be termed the midpoint of my life, but I can assure you it was unplanned and unavoidable. Although I really wanted to fall in love once more, I decided not to get involved in any sort dating situation; if love found me in the normal course of the rest of my life, I would accept it willingly...

It was summer in northern Utah, much hotter than what I would ever find tolerable. I'd been trying to concentrate on learning my new job, but motivation was truly lacking. And my co-workers were not much help. They had been going on and on about the regional manager who was making their lives miserable. I knew nothing about this person other than the rumors, so it came as some surprise when she e-mailed to say she was had a lay-over in Salt Lake City. She wanted to meet me, saying this was her policy of "connecting" with each of her employees. I couldn't exactly refuse, especially as they said she was single and attractive, despite being a hard-ass. So we agreed to meet for an after-dinner drink at the top-rated restaurant at the hotel she was staying at in Salt Lake. I made a reservation.

I arrived a few minutes early, and found only a few patrons in the restaurant. There was no hostess to seat me directly, but I didn't care, as my attention was immediately riveted on an incredibly tall woman, standing a few yards away, with her back to me, laughing and talking to two guys. I thoroughly enjoy tall women, and am not intimidated by them at all. This one was striking because her proportions were exceptional, at least from what I could see from my angle. But I also chuckled internally, because this one was clearly out of my league: Athletic, well-dressed, probably rich and most likely taken.

In a few moments, the woman hugged each of the guys briefly, then turned toward me. Within a step or two, she gasped slightly, then recovered immediately, smiled broadly and apologized for not noticing me.

"Just one tonight?" she asked. She was the hostess!

I simply gaped, as she was striking from all angles: A narrow face with a strong nose, chiseled features, hair as black as can be imagined without looking artificial, cut short but not butch. One long dazzling ear-ring offset her asymmetric hair. And two dark eyebrows God had formed with a straightedge. I finally managed to stammer out a few things, like "Uh, I had a reservation for two, the name is 'Martin,' my, uh, well, that is, my, I mean, an associate of mine will be here shortly..."

She said "Of course," and grabbed two menus and whirled around, assuming I would follow. And like a star-stuck puppy, I did, trying not to stumble as I watched her awesome ass move seductively below her straight back.

Everything she was wearing was black, a blouse of a shiny satiny material, gathered appropriately at the waist with a black fabric belt. Her slacks hugged her in all the right places, loose everywhere else. She seemed to flow rather than walk, in short heels that didn't accentuate her height too much, far more graceful than tall people normally are. I felt a completely inappropriate erection forming; this was a person who definitely kept in shape and it turned me on.

She dropped me at a secluded table and vanished, without anything more than a smile. "Oh, great," I thought to myself, "this is going well. How am I supposed to concentrate on business now?" So I ordered a manly pomegranate martini and tried to relax.

Christine, the regional manager, showed up within a few minutes, without the help of the hostess, having intelligently concluded there was only one person in the restaurant who could be her employee. And, yes, she was pretty, in a sort of made-up model way: Not tall, not short, not slim, not fat, comically-arched eyebrows, cosmetically tweaked in all the right places with no subtlety whatsoever, no expense spared, all for effect. I hated that look. And she smelled like she had spilled a bottle of perfume on herself. Yag. We introduced ourselves and shook hands, and I glanced around to see if the tall hostess had seen that. I couldn't see her.

But within a few minutes, I could tell Christine was not up to her reported harsh efficiency. She was tired from traveling and likely jet-lagged. She put on a good façade, but I could tell she would rather be someplace else. So at the first opportunity, with all the gentlemanliness I could muster, I suggested we declare the day a success and she should retire without loss of stature. With some obvious relief, she agreed, and with only a few more pleasantries, she left.

I was relieved as well, as I thought the encounter had gone much better than I had expected. But now I was at a loss as to what to do next, other than to finish up my drink and slope out with my pride. But before I could make much progress on that, the tall hostess reappeared as if by magic, and professionally asked if my "associate" would be returning. I assured her everything was fine, but, no, she would not be back.

She seemed to get a little nervous, and sort of made a half-hearted attempt to leave, but finally blurted out: "Would you like to go for a short walk yet tonight?" I hadn't dared to believe. I quickly recovered, and agreed, although I had no solid idea of just what that might entail. She immediately relaxed and smiled broadly; I could tell she was relieved but clearly just still a bit nervous about making such a bold move. She told me she needed to finish up a few things, perhaps twenty minutes, and we agreed to meet at the elevator.

I pretty much just slammed the rest of the drink down, then hopped up. The bartender refused payment so firmly I didn't try a second time. What's that all about? I wondered, but not for long.

I made a quick stop at the restroom, thinking I could burn up some more time. It was damn near impossible to pee, more than just a little hard with potential energy.

Waiting at the elevator was awkward to say the least, as other people came and went, and it seemed much longer than twenty minutes. But I kept my resolve, and soon she appeared, moving purposefully as if to get away from any of the restaurant staff that might drag her back to her duties.

But she didn't move toward the elevator, she just swept by me and headed for the stairwell. I noticed, in passing, that all her jewelry was gone. I wondered about that only for a second, then had to sprint to catch up with her. I was stunned again when she went up, not down.

We climbed a flight of stairs, then she turned down a short hallway and opened a door. The roof! It was still pretty warm, and she continued on, through a maze of air-handling equipment that blew even more hot air around us.

She walked toward the edge of the building, stopping against the concrete wall. So this was it then, the decision point for me. I could walk away, right now and forever, or... I moved toward her, profoundly stimulated. If she was giving herself to me, I'd be a fool to not accept.

She was looking over the city, hands on the three-foot thick, waist-high wall, exposed for anyone who might have been looking. I wondered briefly if that excited her, but not for long, as she was unbuttoning her blouse. I simply came up behind her, put one hand on each of her shoulders and slipped it off. She let her breath out audibly, relievedly, as it whispered away, and she moved her hands down to her sides to allow me to pull the blouse free.

She had nothing at all underneath. Had the removal of a bra been part of the things she had needed to do before she left the restaurant?

I wasn't sure what my next step should be, so I moved closer to her, but to one side so she would have some sense of my hardness. I wrapped my arms around her waist and slowly started exploring. I found the most erotic crease running down the center of her body, presumably--and later confirmed--running from between her breasts to below her navel. Another indication of how well she kept in shape. And I noticed her smell: Nothing more than a clean, womanly body. How refreshing!

I may have been satisfied with that, but the region around the upper end of the crease intrigued me, too. In our brief interactions, I hadn't really taken notice of her boobs, distracted by her striking stature and looks. I soon found them, and was ecstatic to discover them to be small, rounded and firm. I cupped them from below at first, then slowly, ever so slowly, worked around to finding a small nipple, hard as a cherry stone. She sucked her breath in at that touch, and I knew there was no turning back now.

Although she kept both hands on the wall, she had begun pushing toward me and moving around sensually. So I kept one hand on a convenient swell, then started trying to figure out to get her slacks unfastened. That kept me occupied for a short time, and although she seemed eager to get out of those constraints, she showed extreme patience and allowed me to work on them. Once released, I brought both hands into play and slid them down.

I then slipped a couple of fingers into the waistband of her black panties, and teased her some more by sliding my fingers around her waist inside her panties before pulling them down as well. Her breathing changed ever so slightly, revealing her smiling, and she took that as the signal to slowly move forward so her thighs were against the wall, and bring her hands behind her to work on my belt.

I unbuttoned my shirt while she was doing that. I didn't want to change our positions--even though I was fundamentally staring at her shoulder blades--and I guessed she didn't either, as once she had opened my pants, she paused slightly. I took the opportunity to pull down both my pants and shorts, finally freeing my throbbing rod, then deliberately brought my hands back to her waist.

Her hands were back on the wall, and as I moved toward her, it became clear to both of us her height was going to be a serious problem to me entering her. She kicked off her shoes and wriggled her feet out of her slacks and panties, all the while nudging the backs of her thighs and buttocks against my rock-hard shaft. That was just about more than I could take, but I just held on. I still had my shoes on, and I hoped this could somehow work.

She leaned over at her waist on the wall, then started moving her feet apart, lowering and opening her pussy. I could feel the heat of it on my prick. I stretched upward, and right away we connected. She brought one hand down and deftly guided me to her center. I'm far from being huge, but right away I felt some resistance. I immediately put my primal instincts on hold, and let her push against me as she needed to. There was certainly no lack of lubrication, and yet it took a few moments for her to get comfortable with me inside her. Once she was, she let out an almost inaudible "Yes!" I knew I couldn't hold back too long, stretched upward against her as I was.

The position was perfect and I was in ecstasy. Within a few, full strokes I blasted my load deep into her. I let my manly urges take over again, locking us together with my full strength, feeling the deep and satisfying release. She turned her head enough for me to see her full smile, and let me finish pumping.

Once my world had settled slightly, I reached around and slowly began to figure out her sensitivities. As I got close to her clit, her breathing rate increased, and once I hit her pearl, she gasped. I softly fingered her, and learning from her responses, began to bring her up.

After several moments, she passed the point of no return, yet she didn't scream or moan. We were both sweating and breathing hard, both in ecstasy, both not wanting it to end. It was me who eventually had to bring it to an end, as I could tell, ultimately, her position was becoming terribly uncomfortable.

She turned toward me and made a point of removing all space between us.

I could have stayed like that for hours, but she mumbled something like "I have a plan." and moved off, as if looking for something. Soon she reached behind some metal box and pulled out two rolled yoga mats. Awesome!

It was still warm enough to lay down totally nude, so we rolled out the mats and bundled our clothing into rough pillows. Not wanting to really give up my glorious position behind her, I arranged our positions so we'd be on our sides, with me spooned against her back. She murmured her approval.

I was tempted to drift off to sleep, but the enormity of the experience was too great, and I just wanted to absorb all of it. It was probably just as well, because once we got fully comfortable, we heard the roof door open and a woman's excited voice: "Screw the view, come on, fuck me now!" A man's voice also said something, but it was unintelligible.

I froze, but I also knew it was very unlikely anyone would find us, well hidden in the machinery. So we listened like naughty schoolchildren, as it became clear the couple was well on their way to doing just what we did, only louder. Their heavy breathing and grunts soon evolved into moans and screams, and my imagination led me to getting hard again.

Our nested position gave away my new excitement, and she responded by sliding her firm ass against my dick, gently at first, then as it grew, even more firmly. That just made me harder and harder, which surprised me, as it had already done full duty.

By the time she grunted softly and rolled over to push me flat on my back, we had lost track of the other couple. Maybe they had finished, maybe we just didn't care to hear them anymore. She gracefully straddled my stomach, and for the first time, I got a good square look at her.

Again, I was amazed. Totally nude, focused, sidelit from the faint city light, she was stunning. Height was no longer an issue...

She put her hands on my shoulders, and slid herself toward my crotch. That action bent my penis unnaturally, and she took it to the point where it probably would have hurt had I been steel-hard. She was clearly focused on getting her position right, and her intensity was turning me on even more. What was she up to?

She paused for a second, then arranged herself ever so slightly on me. Then, with a quick flick of her hips, I was inside her! I had never had anyone do that to me before. She proceeded to drive downward on me with surprising vigor. She was very wet again, and I slipped in to the hilt. From then on, she was in total control of her ecstasy, and she rode me hard. Again, almost no vocalization, and I had an incredible view of her motions, body stretched tightly back, small-nippled breasts jiggling enticingly.

It wasn't long before she gasped once and was gone. I don't know if she even knew where she was, or who she was with. I just kept up my end, wondering if I could come again, or if it even mattered.

She slowly came down again, and as her breathing evened out, she began to move gently up and down and sideways a little. I let her set the pace, loving the wonderful feeling. She was watching me now, hands pinning my shoulders to the mat, trying to figure out, I guessed, what I had left in me, or when.

I was still massively stimulated, but somewhat amazed that she thought her actions might bring me off again. But she continued, and I got harder and harder. I felt myself getting closer, then sort of reached a plateau. She felt it, too, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, started squeezing me with her vaginal muscles. She tightened, compressed me, nudging me, stroking me until my organ couldn't physically stand the motion any more and I thrust upward with all my strength and spurted off inside her. She smiled broadly, as if some sort of challenge had been won. And frankly, she deserved it.

"I hope you don't mind if we spend quite a bit of time together." Now it was my turn to smile, but before I could figure out a witty answer, my penis pumped up one last pulse. She started laughing, and laughed so hard she squeezed me out. Tears started trickling down her face as total joy and relief enveloped her body. Her continuing laughter sprinkled those tears on my naked chest and stomach.

"By the way," she said between gasps of air, "My name is Martina, and I think I owe you an explanation!"