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The Tattoo Riddles Ch. 08

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Babes

How the hell was he was supposed to recognise Hannah? He’d been sat at the bar since seven-fifteen, and it was probably the longest fifteen minutes he’d ever experienced. The bar was surprisingly busy – there was a wedding reception in the hotel’s main function room, and quite a few of the guests seemed to be finding their way over to the cocktail bar already – and every time the door opened, he spun around to see if it might be her. After the first few times, he had repositioned himself on the bar stool so that he was able to check without jerking his whole upper body through ninety degrees. It had mostly been couples coming in, but there had been a few single women of the right age. It seemed ten times worse than it had been waiting for Alex, maybe because on that occasion they were just meeting for coffee and this was…… well, he had a very expensive hotel room waiting just a few minutes away for them to disappear to moments after they had first met.

This was a proper blind date. Alex, he’d met for coffee beforehand and Summer he’d seen quite a few pics of ahead of their date (he reminded himself that he really must delete those from his phone, though he just couldn’t quite bring himself to at the moment). Tonight, though, he had no idea what to expect. In the fifteen minutes he’d sat there, he had started to become pretty good at scanning every single female within seconds of her entering, to determine firstly if it could be her and secondly if he hoped it might be. The score was about fifty-fifty so far he thought. A couple of them, he would have been delighted had they been Hannah; two, on the other hand, he had felt really quite relieved as they had walked past him to join their friends. God, he was becoming picky! It had only been about three weeks since this whole riddle thing had started and here he was mentally taking his pick of the twenty-something women as they walked in.

But this is how so many people date these days he thought. His pal Greg was forever going on about meeting up with women he’d only glimpsed briefly on some dating app, and apparently even if they had shared a pic, they more often than not looked totally different in the flesh. A horrible thought struck him. What if there was a good reason why Hannah hadn’t wanted to meet or share pics before their date? What if she was a bit of a minger? Greg seemed happy to work his way through a long series of one night stands and had made some jokey comment only the other week about them being ‘more grateful’ if they weren’t great looking. But Rick wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. The encounters he’d had so far with Mya, Summer, and Alex had all meant something to him. He had strong feelings for Mya, and he had found both Summer and Alex very attractive and really thought that he had felt close to them both during their time together. Indeed he was seriously considering taking Alex up on her offer of seeing her again. So he wasn’t a ‘player’ like Greg liked to brag that he was, not at all. So if there wasn’t any sort of spark with Hannah, if it didn’t feel ‘right’, then he might find that rather difficult.

The door opened, and a young woman stood for a moment and scanned the bar. She looked past Rick on the first sweep, but her gaze settled on him on the return path. She looked neither nervous nor excited, but rather really quite dispassionate. She let the glass door close behind her as she strode purposefully towards the bar where Rick was sitting. It was seven-thirty on the dot, and Rick was damn sure this was Hannah. If it was then physical attraction wasn’t going to be an issue. She was tall and very slim, with straight blonde hair that came halfway down her back. Not exactly Rick’s type, but a classic Barbie-style head-turner. Suddenly the off-hand manner made more sense. She could probably have most men in this bar, heck, in any bar, and she was no doubt very self-assured, bordering on arrogant as a result.

“Rick, I presume?”

There you go, right there. She showed no sign of embarrassment, and why should she? If she picked out the wrong guy, he’d still be so happy that she had approached him that there would be no awkwardness. He would be polite and try to strike up a conversation with her anyway.

“It is. Hannah?” Bloody stupid question really, but it seemed the natural thing to do. She didn’t answer or even acknowledge the question, but gracefully pulled up a bar stool and perched her perfect backside on it, her feet still touching the floor. The fact she could do that confirmed Rick’s initial assessment, that she was taller than him, certainly in the heels she was in.

“What can I get you?” He looked across the vast array of bottles on glass shelves and optics behind the bar.

“Mojito.” My, she was a chatty one.

She looked around the bar like she was looking for someone in particular but couldn’t find them. She’d probably already made the height calculation almanbahis too, he thought. He wasn’t short by any means, but he wasn’t the six foot four he’d need to be to tower over her in those heels, and he understood that that was a deal breaker for many women. Was she looking around to see if there were more eligible alternatives in the bar? Maybe she was having second thoughts?

“This is a great bar, really nice. And the room is something else. Have you been here before?” Christ what a crap, cheesy line. He fully deserved the look of disdain it received.

“I’ve been to the bar a few times, but never stayed here, no.”

Ok, well it hadn’t been a total disaster, at least he’d got almost a proper sentence out of her. The barman began mixing their cocktails in front of them, and the little bit of theatre with the shaking and flipping and catching of glasses and ingredients was a welcome distraction from what threatened to be a truly embarrassing silence. Embarrassing for him, anyway, as he figured that she just didn’t do embarrassment, full stop. She took a sip of the mojito and smiled a very appreciative ‘thank you’ at the barman. He beamed back showing off a set of dazzling white teeth. He was at least six foot two. Maybe she was sizing him up?

She did another scan of the bar and then dug her phone out of a small clutch bag and checked it, presumably checking for messages. This was really weird. With Summer and Alex, they had both had very clear ideas about how they wanted the evening to go. They had really taken the lead. Hannah was acting like she couldn’t care less how the date went. How long did she want to stay at the bar? Was she going to need a few more mojitos to get her in the mood? Maybe she was expecting dinner? There was a bistro place in the hotel, but Rick hadn’t thought to ask about booking a table. Think man, think. What could he say to kick start some sort of proper conversation?

“Shall we go up then?” She said abruptly after taking a large sip. She looked him squarely in the eyes, and he was sure she didn’t need the cocktail to steady her nerves.

“Er…. yes….. yes let’s do that if you want. He wasn’t helping matters with his bumbling incompetence, he knew that. He was hardly oozing excitement and anticipation about their imminent liaison. She stood up, or rather she moved forward so that her backside was no longer resting on the bar stool. As he had suspected, she was a tad taller than him in her heels. He tried to console himself with the fact that he’d have a few inches on her if she were barefoot, but it really wasn’t working.

“Well lead on, you know where we’re going.” God at this rate the date was going to be seriously hard going.

Christy had been in touch. She’d thought it over and decided that five thousand wasn’t enough, she wanted ten. That was a fair price, Christy reckoned, for the inconvenience of having a very unusual tattoo in a place that was pretty important to her livelihood, or else the cost, time and inconvenience involved for its removal. It was more than she had expected to pay, but she figured she didn’t really have much choice. She could, she supposed, approach another escort, but it wasn’t really the same as getting three builders to quote on a kitchen extension, was it? And even ten thousand was a relatively small amount to pay to ensure this riddle nonsense didn’t jeopardize her impending marriage to Michael, her hugely successful hedge fund trader fiancée. The life of relentless luxury and pampering that lay ahead for her once they were married more than justified her emptying the building society account that she had painstakingly accumulated over the years in order to avoid any sort of liaison that Michael might have reason to be suspicious of.

Of course, being discovered contacting and meeting up with a prostitute was pretty risky in itself, but she figured she could explain that one away as a surprise wedding gift if it ever happened to come to light. She knew her hyper-horny fiancée would be ludicrously turned on by the prospect of a threesome with his new bride and another woman, so he wouldn’t question her motives if presented with that explanation.

She told Christy that okay, ten grand was cool. But she should wait a few weeks. She needed to find out if this pesky riddle solver was making any more progress around the circle of friends.

The journey up to the room had been excruciatingly painful. He had again attempted to initiate some sort of light-hearted chat in the lift, this time by paying her some compliments but she had simply smiled that wan smile and stared at the elevator door. The girl clearly didn’t do small talk. Thankfully Room 368 was literally just yards from the lift, so he hadn’t had to endure a long corridor walk of awkward silence. Maybe once they were alone in the room, she would relax and warm to him a bit.

He almanbahis giriş opened the door and ushered her in. She strode purposefully to the window, pulled the curtains together in one swift action, then flicked a few wall switches to achieve a level of lighting she seemed satisfied with. It left the room with a nice low, warm feel that Rick felt was as romantic as they could hope for, and his spirits lifted a little. Then she turned to face him, reached behind her back and unclipped or unzipped something significant, as with a shrug of her shoulders her dress fell to her feet. She stepped out of it and nudged it carefully to one side with her foot. She stood before him in black bra and panties and a matching suspender belt with stockings. A classic and frankly quite stunning combination. She climbed gracefully onto the bed and knelt on all fours with her arse in the air facing him.

“Well come on then….. what are you waiting for?” she barked at him.

Despite the cold and detached manner with which she had stripped and positioned herself on the bed, Rick was hugely aroused by the sight of Hannah’s gloriously pert arse framed by taut suspenders, with the tiniest of thongs nestling between her butt cheeks. A coquettish wiggle of that arse or a cheeky finger rubbing her own pussy wouldn’t have gone amiss, but he knew he was getting spoilt with all these young women throwing themselves in front of him, so he shrugged that selfish thought to one side and hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his belt, trying to kick off his shoes simultaneously. More used to jeans and trainers, he struggled a little with the additional complexities and almost fell flat on his face, but he recovered his composure and clambered enthusiastically onto the bed behind her in just his boxers. He planted a tender kiss on her left buttock, moving across to the right one leaving a trail of butterfly kisses across her backside, interspersed with the odd gentle bite. Her skin tasted sweet, and she smelled divine, and he was just thinking that the evening was going to pan out a hell of a lot better than he had anticipated when she barked at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?…. what the hell is that?”

“I’m kissing you.”

“Why?”

“I… I thought you’d like a little…. warming up.”

“For God’s sake. I’m a woman, not a clapped out Land Rover!! I am warmed up. Get on with it, man. Give me your cock!”

He had never met a woman who didn’t enjoy foreplay. Most enjoyed it at least as much as the thrusting and pounding that followed. So this was all very new to him. But he dutifully worked his boxers down over his legs and kicked them off before repositioning himself behind her. Her frosty demeanor had had a definite effect on the hard on he’d had whilst watching her impromptu strip, so he needed to pull a bit on his cock to get himself hard again. Once hard, and with his cock in one hand he pulled her thong to one side and nudged the head against her labia. She was right, she was indeed ready, and he slipped in fairly easily. Grasping hold of a delightful ass cheek in each hand, he started to move in and out at a measured, steady pace. Given the total lack of foreplay, he planned on starting slow and working up to a faster, harder rate. He should have known better; he realized that when she berated him yet again.

“Come ON!! What on earth are you doing back there?! Are you actually in me yet? I can hardly feel anything. Push harder. Fuck me. Fuck me hard!!”

Grabbing hold of her hips, he did as he was told and started driving into her as hard as he could, his balls slapping against her pussy with every thrust. She started moaning a little and started to mutter words to herself, under her breath. He could only make out “fuck me” which she definitely said a couple of times. She started pushing her backside against him, with sharp, forceful thrusts. He was desperately trying to sync his own thrusting with hers, but it was nigh-on impossible and after a minute or so they got it horribly wrong, and his cock slipped right out on his backward stroke and rammed into her left buttock as he pushed forward and she pushed back. He winced at the pain shooting through his knob, and instinctively pulled back to protect himself.

“Ngghhh….” she grunted, clearly unhappy with the halt in proceedings, then loudly remonstrated with him, “Get it back in!!!… get it in me!!!”

He gingerly inserted his cock back inside her open pussy, but it was still feeling rather battered and bruised, and the sensations were far from pleasurable. She seemed oblivious to his predicament.

“Harder!…. push harder!…. fill me…. FILL ME!!” she shouted back at him.

He persevered for several more minutes of the same, driving as hard as he could against her backside, gripping hard on her hips in an attempt to regulate her own thrusting, but his heart wasn’t in it, almanbahis yeni giriş and he found himself imagining if this was what it must be like to ride a mechanical bucking bronco at the fair, desperately trying to hold on for as long as he could in order to get the longest recorded time. Normally when he was fucking this hard and fast, he would need to think of something else to hold himself back, but tonight he wasn’t enjoying it at all, and there was no danger of him coming. He stopped thinking about the bucking bronco and tried to fathom if Hannah was enjoying herself. She was still grunting and muttering, but he couldn’t decide if that was an indication of enjoyment or annoyance

“Slap me,” she suddenly said in the middle of her mutterings, then more loudly, “Slap my arse!!… slap it!!”

Inflicting any sort of pain was really not Rick’s thing, and he had very little experience of slapping or spanking as part of sex play. But he was keen to make this terrible situation better, so gave it a go. He let go of her right hip and brought the palm of his hand swishing down and across, glancing off her right ass cheek.

“Nngghh…. again… harder” she grunted.

He repeated the action, this time trying to slap her quicker and harder. Some mechanism inside him was fighting against it, though.

“More… harder!!!”

He was shocked at how hard he slapped her the third time and thought he had gone too far, and felt the urge to stop and apologize, to see how she was. But she simply grunted a noise that sounded the most like satisfaction he’d heard all evening.

“More,” she said, a little more quietly than her previous demands.

He rained three or four further slaps down on her right ass cheek in quick succession. He could see a red glow beginning to appear across her buttock, and Hannah was making quiet little sounds of appreciation as she buried her head down into the pillow. He lay off the spanking for a while and concentrated on fucking her hard, both hands grabbing her hips. He felt like he was finally managing to satisfy her, though it wasn’t doing a great deal for him. But it wasn’t long before her head lifted slowly from the pillow.

“You stopped…. why you stopped?” she said quietly. He took the fact that she couldn’t construct a sentence properly at the moment as a good sign, but clearly, she was expecting a lot more from him. He resumed slapping her right cheek. He felt guilty giving just that right one so much attention whilst ignoring the left one entirely as it was growing a deeper shade of red with every slap, but he was decidedly right-handed, and there was no way he could land a decent palm-open blow with his left. She didn’t seem to mind and was now moaning and muttering away into the pillow again. Then all of a sudden she threw her head up and back.

“My hair…. pull…. pull my hair!!”

He was totally taken aback by this request. Instinctively he went to oblige and grabbed a fistful of her long silky hair. But immediately he did so he let it go.

“I’m sorry…. I’m really not comfortable with that….” he trailed off as he couldn’t offer any reasonable explanation as to why he was happy to spank her but not to yank her by the hair. It just felt like a step too far.

She fell forward onto the bed, his cock sliding out of her noisily. She lay motionless for a few moments, and he was about to reach for her, to check that she was all right. He looked guiltily at the bright crimson ass cheek. Then she slowly rolled over and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her back to him.

“Well, I knew it was a mistake when I saw you. I should never have come up here with you. You don’t have what it takes.” The cold, matter-of-fact tone was back, in full force.

“I….well…” he didn’t know what to say. Something about different people liking different things had seemed a good idea when he had opened his mouth, but immediately it sounded very wrong indeed. He had nothing else, so he let it hang.

“I’m used to someone more powerful…. bigger…” she paused as if to emphasise that she meant bigger in any respect he could think of, “….more forceful…. happy to take control….. that’s what I need”.

His cock had started to wilt the moment she had fallen forward and was properly flaccid now. He looked around behind him, looking for the cover of his boxers. He hopped into them and noticed that she too was picking up her discarded dress.

“Er… I know it’s over and I’m really sorry it wasn’t what you wanted….”

“Needed.”

“….yes, ok… well…. needed, then…… but would it be possible to see the tattoo before you go?”

He knew how absolutely pathetic that had sounded and hated himself for even thinking it, let alone saying it. He was shocked but not surprised by her reaction.

“The tattoo?…. the frigging tattoo??… is that seriously all you’re thinking about??… after that spineless display, and you’re thinking about the bloody stupid tattoo…. are you a fucking retard??!!!… grow a pair for fuck’s sake… just grow up and grow a pair!!!!”

She was standing up on the bed now, screaming at him, her arms waving around.

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