The night doesn't start off to hot

Except... it started off horrifically. When I got down to the bar and had a look around, everyone there was either old and decrepit or flat out ugly. The odd passable guys that approached me were all creepy and, after an hour of fruitless flirting, I was just about ready to give up.

"One more please," I indicated to the bartender, prepared to down my last drink and call it a night.

That's when a commanding voice from behind interjected, "It's on me." I knew I recognised that voice, and when I turned to see whose strong right hand slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the table, I saw the familiar face of Mr. Big.

He confidently sunk into the barstool beside me and looked me straight in the eye as he extended a hand towards me, "Marco Big... A pleasure." I'd never seen him in such a fine suit. It must have been tailored because it fit his body perfectly and showed off his muscular, toned limbs... and his bulging chest. I'd never even considered my dad's business partner as a person... or, you know, a person outside of work. He was just 'that guy'. That boring uncle figure everyone has to put up with in their lives.

He looked good, I had to admit, but I was sure he'd flounder and embarrass himself. He was so cringeworthy most of the time, I knew he'd never know how to talk to a woman. "Samantha," I said coyly, "but my friends call me Sam."

"So, should I consider myself a friend?" he asked with a grin.

"Not yet," I said, giving him an early test.

"Good," he calmly sipped his drink, "I'd rather be something else..."

I giggled and he smirked proudly. He was good. I wasn't expecting that.

The next fifteen minutes or so were much the same; we exchanged playfully comments, him making his intentions clear and me teasing him. I enjoyed seeing his lustful stare when I bent forwards and 'accidentally' gave him a good look of my cleavage.

We were playing that flirtation game - the back and forth, the repartee. Somehow his words and light touches kept compelling me to laugh or smile... or get turned on. Like, really turned on. I don't even know how it happened - maybe it was how bored I was, maybe it was the failed night up till now or maybe he was just a charming guy... but suddenly I was hungry for him. When he leaned over asked me if I wanted to have a drink in his room, I didn't even hesitate to press my lips into his ear and whisper back, "Lead on."

As he slid his key-card into his door, I wasn't even the slightest bit nervous. Right now, he was a different Mr. Big to the one I knew... and I was certainly not the same Sam. For my mind and for my moist pussy, he was a sexy stranger I had just picked up at the bar.

His coarse hands pulled me inside and we locked lips instantly as he pushed me against the back of the door. My hands urgently grabbed at his clothes and tore his shirt open, before pushing it off his shoulders along with his jacket. I could feel his hard cock bulging through his trouser and pushing against my crotch as he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed. He threw me down onto it, keeping our lips pressed together constantly.