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“See you in a few months!” he said as we shook hands on the pavement.“See you,” I replied.I hailed a cab and the trip back to the hotel was quicker, given it was nearly 10:00pm. I stopped on the fourth floor and knocked on the door of room 401. Magdalena opened it a moment later.“You’re earlier than I expected,” she said.“Dinner and some drinks,” I said. “Not a night on the town.”“Where do you want to go?”“I have a bottle of champagne in my room courtesy of the hotel,” I said. “I’m not going to drink the whole thing myself. If you aren’t comfortable with that, we can ask the concierge to recommend a local.”“Hmm. A married man invites me to his room to drink champagne,” she laughed. “But you seem safe enough, so why not?”“Gee, thanks,” I said deadpan.“I suppose that could go either way in terms of being an insult, right?”“Exactly. I need to get some ice brought up to the room. I have a huge basket of fruit, too, if you want to snack.”“What makes you rate?”“I’m in the Six Continents. I had not allowed for the height of the table. I had got up onto it quickly and now the seam of my shorts was rubbing on my hard clit. My cunt was feeling very moist. He still hadn’t even looked at my leg. I turned over to lie on my chest. Paul began to massage my leg. It felt so good. He spoke gently and was so good at explaining all the fine little details of what my injury was. I tried hard to listen but all the time I was mesmerized by his touch and his voice. His touch was so gentle, yet erotic. Even though I knew he was just doing his job, I couldn’t ignore the growing sensation between my legs. I was jolted out of my trance when I felt Paul’s hand move over the strained muscle. He apologized for the pain but continued massaging my leg, slowly moving up my thigh. My pussy felt so wet now and I felt for sure that he would be able to see a wet patch on my shorts. His hands moved further up my leg until they were no more than 3 inches from my panty line. God Paul knew how to.
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