Getting warmer

Chapter 1 — The Maestra

Confirmed. The Maestra. Suite 1701. 8 pm.

Alex looked at his wife sitting out on the balcony of their Central Park condo to see if she’d heard his phone beep. She hadn’t. She was engrossed in reading; not a novel, but the score to her orchestra’s current symphony.

Erin was pretty. Elegant. Bookish. Alex loved her to death. And even more so in the moments he knew he wasn’t giving Erin everything she deserved.

He looked back at the text message. Strange. Usually he told the agency where, and they’d send the girl. But there it was: “ The Maestra.” He knew the historic hotel had some of the most expensive rooms in Manhattan. But the firm would cover him anyway, so what did it matter?

The Maestra. Luxury and elegance intertwine where our guests come to indulge. Expect world-class service inside our walls, and a bottle of Dom Perignon waiting inside your suite.

When Alex entered suite 1701 that night, he was greeted by not just a bottle of Dom, but a dominatrix, too.

He should have known something was up. The agency knew his tastes: brunettes and redheads, no surgery or silicone, and two girls preferable to one. He had never mentioned leather and cuffs.

Still, he thought, when a tall woman in thigh-high boots and a black leather corset tells you to strip naked and get on the bed, it’s hard to argue.

Alex felt the luxurious linens against his back and legs as the Mistress began to tie his arms down with soft, silk rope that could have come off the suite’s nine-foot-tall red velvet curtains.

All our suites feature the finest from the old world, including antique armoires and hand-carved four-poster beds.

He studied the Dom’s face as she wrapped the line around his ankles; her eyes read “girl next door” more than professional disciplinarian. After tying the last knot to the bedpost, she put on her short black overcoat, turned on the television, and said, “I’ll be back,” leaving Alex lying naked and restrained.

The program she left him with showed a woman in a bedroom stripping in front of some men. Bent over a bed, her backside facing the camera, she slid her skirt slowly over her ass until it fell to her feet, her bottom bare except for the thin black straps of her garter belt. Two studs in boxer shorts watched from either side.

So he was supposed to get warmed up watching porn until the girl returned? She certainly picked a low-budget flick — dim lighting, just one camera angle. He couldn’t even tell if the actress was hot or not. But with his hands bound to the bed, he couldn’t exactly switch to the hockey game.

Alex relaxed into the pillows as the woman on screen climbed onto her bed and laid down. A black-lace cupless bra propped up her pert tits, and her stockings and garter belt framed the dark hair of a well-trimmed pussy. The men — both fit and muscular — kneeled on the bed next to her.

Just then someone from off-camera crossed in front of the scene. What kind of budget crap was this? Alex wondered. The scene then jerked as if the camera had been picked up from a tripod. At least he might see some close-ups now, he thought.

The camera focused on the four masculine hands caressing the woman’s thighs, brushing against her sex. It followed them up her body as they stroked the underside of her breasts, gently pinching her nipples. Alex felt his cock stir in anticipation of this starlet getting fucked by two capable studs. He wanted to watch; but even more, he wanted that dominatrix to get back and take care of his growing need.

Then, as the camera finished its journey up the woman’s body, the actress lifted her head from the pillows and looked straight into the camera. Alex gasped.

The cheekbones. The long eyelashes. The eyes! Sixty familiar details from her face raced through the wires onto his screen and jolted the neurons in his brain. He wanted to jump up to the TV to see if his eyes were deceiving him, but the ropes kept him pinned to the bed, powerless. He looked again. It was definitely her. It was Erin.

It hit him all at once. Erin knew about the trysts, knew about the call girls. And she apparently planned an elaborate scheme to get revenge on him. She wasn’t the vengeful type, he reflected, but discovering a cheating spouse can push anyone to extremes.

He averted his head from the screen even as his eyes fixated on the picture. The guys were now stroking themselves through their boxers, and the woman — Erin — was cupping and squeezing her breasts as she watched them masturbate.

When the hell did she record this?

Suddenly the scene swung around, and the face of the cameraman — camerawoman, actually — filled the lens.

“Hi, Alex,” she said, in a pouty, falsely apologetic tone. It was the Mistress. Who obviously wasn’t who she’d claimed. A friend of Erin’s? Or someone from her orchestra?

“I’m Jane, we haven’t formally met yet. Erin’s kinda busy right now, but she wanted you to know that this isn’t a recording — we’re live.”

Allow yourself to be entertained by our wide-screen, high-definition flat panel televisions streaming premium movies, satellite channels, and the world wide web.

On Alex’s screen, the guys now sported erections beneath their boxers. He watched as Erin’s hand slipped from her breast down the length of her body and her middle finger slipped in between her labia. The young one pulled his cock out of his shorts and began running his hand up and down its smooth length.

So Erin had lured him here to force him to watch while other men drooled over her; that was his punishment. But that’s all she was going to do here, right? Give the guys a little show, maybe let them jack off a bit? Lesson learned?

As he reassured himself of this, Erin had already crossed that line. She was grasping a full, erect cock in each hand and stroking them both intently. She bit one side of her lower lip, looking every bit the hungry vixen.

Alex was helpless. Chided. Captive. He could move only his head. He looked closely at her pixilated image. Damn, she looked hot. It had been a while since he’d thought of anyone else lusting after her. But there she was, his familiar wife of nine years, giving raging hard-ons to two strange men.

Alex only now noticed the big rust and olive pillows she was leaning against — the same kind were behind his head right now. The video was shot in the same hotel.

Make the Maestra your place in the city for meetings and events. We can cater to everything from a 300-guest conference in the grand ballroom to a private 3-person business meeting en suite.

The three on the bed were getting down to business. The camera lingered on the sizeable cock in Erin’s hand, and on the man attached to it. Wait — that dark wavy hair, the square jaw — yes. Alex knew him.

It was Devan. The father of one of their kids’ classmates. Damn. He now remembered catching Devan flirting with Erin once, at school one evening after the winter play. He had seen them from a distance; she had brushed him off, politely. Had she wanted him then?

He didn’t recognize the guy on Erin’s other side. Smooth skin, blonde hair, young — early 20’s Alex guessed. Where did Erin find this one?

Clearly there were things Alex didn’t know about his wife.

Was she going to take this much further? Alex wondered. Or did she just want to teach him a lesson?

Back on his screen, Devan was lying prone with his face buried between Erin’s legs. She pulled the blonde one closer to her and demanded, in language Alex had never heard out of Erin, “Come put that hot, stiff cock inside my mouth.” Kneeling upright next to her, the young stud positioned his shaft against her pale cheek.

Alex’s last remaining illusions that Erin wouldn’t go all the way were evaporating before his eyes. Heated and conflicting emotions charged through him as he watched his wife take the young man’s penis into her mouth, the same mouth Alex kissed every night before bed. Every night he wasn’t away on business, that is.

She parted her lips willingly and let the bulbous head slide over her tongue and deep into the back of her mouth.

Alex was embarrassed, emasculated, and aroused all at once. For a moment he felt relieved that the ropes restrained him, that they denied him the burden of deciding how to react. What could he do but watch?

No seasoned porn star, the young guy soon threw his head back with his mouth agape. Jane apparently knew enough about porn to zoom in for the money shot. Erin began jerking his cock harder and faster, and pulled it from her lips just in time for the first spurt to shoot past her face onto the pillow behind, the ribbons of come drenching her pale cheek, her moist lips, her elegant collarbone, then her cheek again, and lastly, the fine sheets.

The Maestra’s beds feature 1200-thread count Egyptian cotton linens and oversize duck down pillows by Woods amp; Bruge. We want your stay to be pleasurable and carefree — that’s why at the Maestra, we happily clean or replace any come-stained comforters and pillow.

Ok, they don’t actually advertise this service, but it is included.

Spent, the young man collapsed against the pillows next to Erin to recover and watch what was coming next.

With two fingers Erin lifted Devan’s chin and pulled him up to her. He knelt between her legs, his imposing cock hovering over her pussy like a zeppelin. Everyone seemed to lean in closer as Devan guided the big mushroom head of his cock towards Erin’s pussy and paused. Without hesitation she reached her arms out, grabbed Devan’s buttocks, and pulled him fully inside her.

Jane soon zoomed in on the center of action. The scene was blurry at first as the autofocus tried to lock on to Devan’s movements, but then in an instant it filled Alex’s screen entirely, like a close-up from a pornographic film: the vivid penetration of his delicate, musician wife by another man’s beautiful, thick cock.

Alex wondered if this was more than just payback. Maybe Erin enjoyed sexual adventure. Maybe she was just now learning this side of herself. Or maybe she’d wanted to explore it all along.

In Alex’s suite, a faint banging could now be heard on the wall behind him. He blocked it out at first, his attention focused on his wife’s escapades. But it soon grew louder and more distracting, each dull thump accompanied by some distant woman’s voice.

The pounding synced perfectly with the action on his screen, delayed by just a split second. Alex gasped for the second time that night.

Of course. Erin was fucking these men in the room right next to his, on the other side of the wall just a few feet behind his head.

He struggled again, harder. The ropes only tightened around his wrists and ankles.

She had planned this perfectly.

The banging intensified. The thick walls could only dampen Erin’s screams, not mask them. Each thrust, beamed so graphically to his eyes, knocked their bed against the wall and reverberated through Alex’s own bed underneath him.

Thrust, Bang, Moan. Thrust, Bang, Moaaaaannnnnnn. The visuals provoked him, the sounds aroused him, the jerking bed chastened and chastised him.

Alex turned away from the screen. He wanted to free himself and burst into her room to re-assert his control.

He wanted to free a hand and touch his aching cock.

Suddenly the banging stopped. The moans trailed off. He sighed with relief; she’s finally done.

But a moment later his bed was alive again and Erin’s screams resumed, only higher and shorter than before. They had changed position, Erin now on all fours facing the end of the bed and looking straight into the camera as Devan pounded her from behind.

He quickened his thrusts and she squeezed her eyes shut, her screams growing softer even as they inched up in pitch, as if her voice, her thought, all her usable energy was getting siphoned off to feed her snowballing orgasm.

Devan came with one deep groan, holding Erin tightly against him as his cock pulsed repeatedly within her. Erin’s climax arrived in full only after her last faint coo, rendering her voiceless as it washed throughout her body, her skin tingling and her head swimming with pleasure.

When she had regained her composure, she was looking straight at her husband, through wires and lightwaves, yet still — somehow — intimately. He searched her eyes expecting to see anger, or the satisfaction of sweet revenge. But he saw nothing like that. Maybe she had moved past those feelings. Maybe she never had them. But he knew his darling wife, and what he saw now on her face seemed just like… joy.

Erin noticed her pounding heartbeat and cooling sweat. She looked into the camera, took a full, deep breath, and smiled at Alex — a naughty, happy, deep, joyful smile.

The Maestra radiates with romance. Spend a decadent night away from home, plan a passionate weekend, or rekindle an intimate relationship. All at the Hotel Maestra.

Alex’s screen went dark. All was still again. He lay bound on the bed with a raging hard-on.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door between the two suites opened, and Jane entered and began untying him. She noticed his erection and eyed him sharply before freeing the last knot.

“Erin is finished with her men now,” she informed him.

Alex rubbed his wrists and sat up on the side of the bed.

“ Am I out of the doghouse yet?” he asked her meekly.

She laughed at him. “I doubt it. You haven’t been treating her as an equal, so you’re no longer her primary man.”

“ Between you and me,” she added, “ you’re probably number five or so now.”

“Level with me here,” Alex looked up and begged. “Is she going to take me back?”

“I hope no time soon,” Jane snapped. She paused for a moment, reflecting on what Alex still meant to her friend. She resumed, more warmly, “If she does take you back, she’ll insist you indulge each other’s kinks together, as a couple. But you’ve got a lot of work to do first.”

She buttoned her coat over her leather corset. “You can start by getting in there and licking her pussy clean.” Tying her coat off, she left the room.

“Yes, Mistress,” he mumbled.

Alex took a deep breath and joined his wife — artista, virtuosa, maestra — in suite 1702.