The Tattoo

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It was a long day of international development meetings that brought together a bunch of us from the USA, Europe and four African countries. We met in a marginally air conditioned room in the beautiful but slightly past its prime colonial hotel on a tree lined street of Harare. It wasn’t quite hot enough inside for those half circles of sweat to feature under our arms, but that didn’t mean my nose wasn’t picking up a diverse variety of musk from my co-participants in the room. I should mention that I am hyper sensual, meaning that I find deep joy in tapping into the maximum stimulation from all of my senses.

I wasn’t expecting anything unusual from this trip; I’ve been in hundreds of these hotel room meetings in my career. In general they feature mind numbing PowerPoint slides filled with stats and big science words and lots of talk leading to little action. Afterwards there is typically banter through cocktail hour and the requisite “group dinner”. Occasionally there is a beautiful participant that makes things more interesting but that’s rare and the norm is we all just shake hands the next morning and head our separate ways home.

But this group was unusually fun and engaged, with lots of interesting debate and creative thinking. One woman joined the group after lunch and immediately caught caught my attention. She was blonde, I guessed in her 30’s though no certainty which end of that decade she was closer to. Her piercing blue eyes, beautiful smile and infectious laugh were bookended by a dry wit and razor sharp mind. But it was her stunning Maori inspired half sleeve tattoo clearly visible on her long muscular arm hanging out of a simple white sleeveless blouse that made it impossible not to stare.

I battled to concentrate on the flow of the meeting as erotic fantasies got the best of me. Every so often she would lean forward to make a point and I did my best to see what sort of bra she was wearing. My nose went into overdrive as I sat across from her after the tea break straining to pick up scents of her perfume and those deeply sensual female sweat notes that fuel some interesting fantasizing.

I was not sure whether or not she felt what I felt when our eyes occasionally locked but from my side it was electric jolts inside my brain all the way down to my cock when it happened. Every time it happened I was in a small panic that she’d instantly write me off as just another creepy guy leering at her. I later discovered that was not true, but more about that later.

Group dinner that evening was at a large Italian restaurant a few blocks away from the hotel, so we elected to walk through the muggy Zimbabwe night together for safety as well to ensure all of us would arrive at the same time. The two of us found ourselves walking together and rehashing the best bits of the afternoon’s meetings. Of course I didn’t tell her that in my pre-dinner shower I had a raging erection just thinking about that beautiful arm, her smell and those eyes. It took immense amounts of self control not to take matters into hand then, but I decided to hold off and see where the night would lead.

She sat across from me and we bantered all evening, sharing funny stories from our work in Africa and Asia. We drank nearly two bottles of wine ourselves as we entered and exited the group’s chats easily—making the most of sitting together with one on one conversation too. . Above the garlicky Italian dishes I picked up wafts of her delicious perfume. I fantasized about stroking her tattoo and tasting the skin below, wondering what my tongue and tastebuds would discover . We both grew up in the Midwest, and that inspired some high school stories and confessions that touched on the sexual. She was surprisingly open to talking about blowjob conversations with her friends and her early sexual encounters with both boys and girls. As you can imagine, am sure I had an erection almost all through dinner and I was petrified everyone would see my tent as I got up to pee.

Walking back from dinner, she grabbed my arm when she kadıköy escort stumbled over the uneven sidewalk. I didn’t want those fingernails and soft hands to let go, but she did and giggled, embarrassed that she was a tiny bit drunk.

In the lobby we parted ways though I could have sworn our eyes lingered on each other a little longer than normal. I sat in the bar having a nightcap, fantasizing she would return but that didn’t happen.

Back in the room I dug into a couple of hotel oriented Literotica stories and edged myself for 90 minutes with crazy thoughts that she too was masturbating in her room and thinking about me. I don’t normally shoot ropes of cum; mine is very thick though sometimes quite a messy load. That night when I finally released, two spurts actually reached my chin.

We kept in touch over the next few month by WhatsApp and things were friendly but all very professional. Of course I never told her I masturbated to crazy erotic fantasies of her dozens of times. Five months later we discovered we were in Delhi on the same night and we agreed to meet for a quick drink and catch up.

It was hot so I was excited that the tattoo that featured so prominently in my fantasies would actually be sitting in front of me. We met in a bar in a very upscale shopping area—neutral turf from either of our hotels.

As it turned out her afternoon full of meetings were cancelled so she’d done some shopping. Delhi traffic made me late so she was well into her second exotic cocktail when I arrived and I found her at a back table in the darker area of the bar. She got up and we hugged a hello, and I inhaled the subtle smell of her Indian perfume with hints of coriander, mint along with the same musky sweet sweat I’d enjoyed in Zim months before.

The waitron quickly arrived and I ordered my own exotic cocktail (a delicious Indian Mojito) and she ordered herself a third round of the beautiful amber whatever cocktail she was drinking. “This bodes well for the evening” I thought to myself.

The drinks promptly arrived and after a quick bit of work catch up and small talk, she smiled and confessed she had a few things she needed to get off her chest.

“I’ve been thinking about you quite a lot since we met.”

“Really?” I replied, trying to keep it together.

“Well, yes” she said. “It started in my room after we left each other in the Harare hotel lobby. You see, I’m a very, um, well…almost animalistic about the people I meet.”

“What do you mean?” I asked

“It’s certainly important that I like what’s I see” she said.

“But equally important is how they smell. And the smell of you has been deeply ingrained in my brain from that one night in Harare. You probably think that’s really weird!”

“Not at all” I replied. “In fact, if this is confession time, I’ll join in and say I’ve thought about you and the way you smelled as well. How weird is that? You see I’m what I’ve always thought of as hyper sensual…meaning that all my senses are super attuned to stuff around me. For example, the smell of you when we just hugged a few minutes went straight to my brain…and well, ok, to other parts too.”

“Oh yeah?” She cocked her head and gave me the most wicked smile. “Like what other parts?”

“Ha ha ha, I’m sure you can work that out” I said. “Let’s just say I probably shouldn’t get up from the table just now” I said as I laughed.

“Really?” She seemed to almost giggle at this. “That’s quite sexy to know I might have that effect on you.”

She continued on; “OK, so maybe this is a good time to tell you I thought all afternoon about a fun little experiment I could conduct on you.”

“That sounds fun” I replied. “What’s the experiment?”

She finished her third cocktail and hailed our waitron to order another round.

“I’m going to pass you my bag. Have a quick peek in what’s on top but don’t pull it out” she said as she passed the bag to me under the table.

I looked down and I could feel my pupils maltepe escort completely dilate as I felt a massive head rush. There in the top of her bag were the sexiest baby blue g-string panties. Clearly these were not part of her shopping as they had no tag and appeared, well, they appeared worn.

“I took them off while I was shopping because thinking about you was making me so wet” she confessed.

“So here’s the experiment. I am sitting across from you and its dark in here. Now that I know you’re a bit animalistic like me, this will be even more fun. I’m going to uncross my legs and lets see if you can pick up the scent of the effect you have on me.”

“Wow! Really? OK, I’m in. But you have no idea how much willpower it’s taking not to pop under the table right now and let my sense of smell be joined by my sense of taste and touch.”

She giggled.

“Well Mr sensual, picking up anything yet? Because I certainly am.” She said with a smirk and naughty look in her eye as she inhaled deeply.

Right then the waitron brought our next round, and I immediately ordered myself another. “I need to catch up with the lady” I explained.

I too inhaled deeply and let my imagination loose.

While the bar was crowded with exotic perfumes and our cocktails fragrant with coriander, mint, I was sure I could pick up the faintest hint of her wetness.

“OK…I smell a more refined and complex version of the heat of the skin on the underside of your tattoo which is very close to being under your arm.. It’s smells lightly salty. Definitely a wee bit sweaty but in a hugely erotic way.” Now it was my turn to wryly smile.

“For your information, this experiment has made my dick completely hard I won’t be getting up from this table anytime soon.”

She laughed. “Well that’s a flattering reaction.”

By the way, you know I caught you multiple times staring at my tattoo at our Harare dinner. So based on your description you imagine my very wet pussy smells like my armpit?” She raised her arm slightly and took a whiff. “Hmmm, never thought about it but maybe.”

My hand moved secretly into my lap and squeezed my super erect cock head. I so wished it was her hand doing that.

“OK lets carry this experiment one step further.” she continued. “I’m going to ask you to close your eyes. Don’t cheat or I’ll call this game off and head back to my hotel. But that wouldn’t be any fun would it?”

With that as a threat you can bet I closed both eyes as tight as if I was a kid hearing reindeer on Christmas Eve and waited for what would be next.

“OK..you can open your eyes now.” she whispered.

“One set of fingers has been rubbed under my arm and with the other rubbed those very wet lips between my legs. Lets see if you can correctly guess which is which.”

I gulped the rest of my cocktail in one go and leaned forward as she brought her right hand for me to smell.

“Option A.” She said,

I gently grabbed her wrist and brought the fingers to my nose.

“Oh my god, that is the most beautifully sensual smell ever. Like a salty curry with sweet coriander and a hint of musky coconut” I whispered.

“And now, Option B.” As she pulled her right hand away and offered me her left.

“”This one smells more cumin and hmmm…with a hint of cinnamon sugar on toast yet weirdly mixed with a more acidic note.”

“Wow” she said. “Those are so descriptive.” But let’s cut to the chase. Which hand ha been under my arm and which was playing around with my pussy while your eyes were closed?”

“What do I win if I get this right?” I asked.

“Another confession from me and maybe later, I’ll grant you one wish” she answered, as if prepared for the question beforehand.

“And if I get it wrong?” I asked?

“Then you have to do what I say right here no matter what. Are you game?”

Fuck, well that was definitely a lot riding on my answer.

And truth was, I had no idea as either could be either.

“OK, I’ll escort bayan have to trust that you’ll be honest” I said.

“Left hand was under your arm and the other hand was, well, in a much more special place.” My logic was that as a right hander, she would likely masturbate with that hand and therefore it would be the natural one to touch herself with.

I swear her beautiful smile lit up the table as she shook her head…nope.

“Exactly the opposite” she said. “Now we’re going to have some real fun.”

The waitron brought my next drink and she declined another round for herself.

“I assume that cock I’ve been thinking about since we first met is hard right now” she inquired.

I glanced down at my tight khakis and nodded, noticing a small wet spot had appeared. How predictable but embarrassing I thought as I nodded yes.

“OK, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to masturbate together right here under our table. This is a repetitive fantasy that I’ve had since I was alone jilling off furiously in that Harare hotel room to visions of you fucking me.”

“Umm, you want me to jerk off here?” I asked, sure that I was blushing as much as I was smiling at the thought.

“Yep. Right here right now. In fact, I’ve already started jilling off while we’re sitting here talking about it.” I noticed her tattooed arm was gently moving as her hand had slipped under the table.

“Here, I’ll give you some motivation” as she reached over the table with that hand and spread her fingers apart, showing me just how sticky wet they were. “If you’re a good boy, I might even give you a taste.”

With that, I unbuttoned my pants and lowered the zipper, careful to balance a serviette over my cock that immediately sprung free from my Calvin’s. True confession: my penis is a pretty normal length but it is very thick; so thick that when I wrap my hand around it my fingers don’t touch my thumb. I reached in and began to slowly stroke it up and down as she gave me a mischievous smirk, clearly watching this motion on my arm.

As I looked over at her, she lifted her gaze and locked her eyes into mine.

“Give me a smell and taste of your pre-cum.” she demanded in a whisper. I noticed her tattoo was moving a bit more vigorously.

I had been leaking for some time, so that wasn’t a hard request to meet. I leaned forward to reach across the table and offered her my right hand.

She grabbed it with her left hand, which was as soft as I remembered it, and sensuously licked the tips of my fingers as if no one else was around us in the bar.

OK I might have appeared a little bit sheepish but fuck, in truth her action accelerated my stroking. Here was a beautiful fantasy woman of mine that I had masturbated to nearly a hundred times before, jilling off to my cum and cock.

She leaned forward and offered me her right hand. I inhaled deeply and touched her fingertips with my tongue. I can’t describe that first taste, it was just too exquisite. But now when I smell corriander, cumin or Delhi street curry I swear I get an instant erection so perhaps it was something like that. In any event it was sort of grooly smooth and a little thick but smooth and my tongue was in heaven.

I squeezed my cock very hard as I was stroking it slowly, the extra grip helped to speed up my orgasm as I imagined this is what her pussy must feel like.

Watching her nostrils flair and her breathing become more laboured was just too sexy; and i saw how hard she was fighting to keep her composure in case anyone in the bar was looking.

After what seemed like the shortest time ever (but may have been nearly 10 minutes) she let out a soft sigh and she suddenly jerked as if electrocuted. Her mouth opened and she drooled a little as she started straight into my eyes. Well that was it for me. I opened my mouth and jerked my head back as I shot several huge ropes of cum into the serviette. The balance of my thick cum slowly ran down the base of my cock and into my underwear.

She giggled watching me as I smiled back at her.

I wanted to say something profound but she beat me to the punch.

“This is the beginning of a very special relationship you and I will have” she said.

“How long will it take you to clean up?” she asked.

“I have other experiments I’ve been thinking I’d like to conduct.”

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