Another Keycard, Another Craving

January 29, 2026

Dear Diary,

Today I saw an older gentleman in his hotel. I always love that charged anticipation as I walk down the hallway — my heels muffled by carpet, my body already buzzing with questions. What will it be like? Will I get turned on? Will I get to come? Will it be all business, or will it turn into something that leaves me soft, open, and needy? Either way, I know there’s a nice stack of money waiting for me, and that alone sends a quiet thrill through me.

He opened a bottle of wine, sharing with me that it was one of his favorites, and we toasted to new friends. We sat in the luxurious suite, exchanging stories and settling into that familiar rhythm of flirting and comfort. Then, somewhat sheepishly, he asked if he could give me a massage. I’m such a sucker for a massage — a real one - but most of the time it turns erotic almost immediately. Men’s hands always seem to slide from innocent to hungry without much effort at all.

He actually surprised me though, giving  me one hell of a massage. He heated the oil first, then drizzled it slowly over my body. I felt it glide down my back as his hands followed, rubbing deep and hard, working into my shoulders, my lower back, my hips. His palms pressed firmly, kneading, spreading heat through me until my muscles melted and my body went heavy and loose beneath him.

By the time he asked me to turn over, I was completely relaxed — pliant, open, already warm all over.

More oil was poured over the front of me, , letting it slide between his hands as he worked his way down from my breasts. His mouth followed, sucking at my nipples, making me arch and breathe deeper, my body responding before I could stop it. His hands moved slowly down my stomach, and instinct took over for both of us.

My hands moved without thinking, opening myself for him, already knowing where he was headed. I know what I like, and I want it done right. My clit was already throbbing, sensitive, aching for attention.

My clit was already throbbing, swollen with need, my body openly begging for his attention. The way he used his mouth, the way his tongue lingered and teased, the way his fingers worked me at the same time — it was overwhelming in the best way. My breath turned shallow. My hips lifted on their own. I could feel how wet and sensitive I was, how completely my body had given itself over to the moment.

The sensations built and built until I couldn’t hold back anymore. I came hard for him, shaking, gasping, my body pulsing around his fingers as everything spilled over at once. When he pulled his fingers free and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean slowly and deliberately, making sure I watched, it sent another rush of heat straight through me.

Will the sense of urgency, he told me he knew he wouldn’t last very long — that I was just too hot, that it had been too long for him, that he was already on edge and desperate. He asked if he could take me hard and fast right away.

I loved that. I wanted that. I encouraged him.

When he entered me, I felt just how ready my body was for him — slick, open, and aching to be filled. The sensation of him pushing in slowly made me gasp, that familiar stretch mixed with the undeniable wet heat between my legs. I could feel how easily my body took him, how completely I was already wrapped around him.

That first moment of fullness always makes my toes curl — the pressure, the intimacy, the way my body adjusts around him. As soon as he was fully inside me, his rhythm changed. He started driving into me with urgency, the angle hitting me perfectly, making me moan and cling to him as my body answered every thrust.

He lasted longer than he had warned me he would, and that only made it better. My body built again, tightening, responding, until I was able to come a second time, clenching around him, lost in the rhythm and the heat of it.

When he finally lost control, it was intense and messy in the best way. He pulled out just in time, stripping the condom and finishing over my chest, leaving me marked, warm, and smiling — my skin hot, my body loose, my breathing still uneven.

Such beautiful artwork.

Another hotel room. Another story. Another reminder of how much I still love that walk down the hallway — and how often it turns into exactly what my body craves. 🔓 Upgrade here:

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