Nova Starr-London, Part two

The Erotic Adventures of
Nova Starr
London-Part two

Oh My God, I must be in heaven! I'm surrounded by three handsome men and three gorgeous women, all there to please me sexually! Their hands and other body parts touching me all over. One man has entered me and a woman is sitting on my face. My body is quivering all over with ecstasy. Two others are sucking my nipples. Someone is trying to push something in my back door. My head spins in delirious pleasure. My sensory input is about to overload. My libido is reaching it's crest, I'm seconds away from orgasm. I moan loudly, one more thrust and it will happen. Oh God here it goes...

Miss Starr, Miss Starr, the young lady said, it's time to wake up, Hon. We'll be landing at Heathrow Airport in London in fifteen minutes. I sat bolt upright, my eyes trying to focus and locate the heinous intruder, my brain spinning from... something, I can't remember. You must have been dreaming hard, Ma'am. You were moaning and thrashing around, she whispered to me. Did you have a nightmare? Are you OK? she asked. Uh, yeah, I think so, I mumbled as I looked around, trying to get my bearings. Can I get you anything before we touch down, Ma'am. Umm, no, I'll be fine. Thanks. OK then, the attendant said, please put your seat full upright, place your tray table in it's stowed position and put on your seat belt. I did so then looked out the window and saw the ground getting closer and closer.

All of a sudden it all came flooding back. I was a second away from what was probably going to be the most intense climax ever and she took all that away from me. For a second or so I was very angry with her for doing that, then I realized that it wasn't her fault, she had no way of knowing what I was going through. I decided she was off the hook.

Well, we landed, deplaned and processed through customs without incident. If you call having to tolerate google eyed, drooling, tongue hanging male inspectors with russian hands and roman fingers, and dagger staring, leering, snooty nosed female inspectors a non incident, that is. Upon exiting the terminal I saw a man holding up a sign with my name on it. I walked over to him and told him that I was Nova Starr. Oh, yes Miss, this way please, he replied in a most delightful British accent as he turned toward the back of the car. There, he opened the trunk, put in my luggage, closed it then went around to the side to open the door for me. I'll be taking you to the Cavendish Hotel straight away, is that correct, Miss, he asked as I sat down in the rear seat. Yes, I said, I already have a reservation there. Very well, Miss. He produced a business card from his coat pocket and handed it to me. If you need any additional transportation services during your stay, Miss, I'd appreciate it if you would ring me up. Got to feed me family, ya know. I glanced at his card and said, Clive, I will give you first preference if the need arises, thank you. He gave me a broad smile, a tip of his cap and a thank you Miss, then jumped in the driver's seat and we were off.

As we approached the hotel, the doorman headed for the curb with a cart in tow. Clive got out, opened the door then offered his hand, which I accepted, as I stepped out. The doorman had retrieved my bags and was already headed for the front desk. I handed Clive a 100 GBP tip then kissed him lightly on the cheek. Wow, thank you so much, Miss, he chimed, grinning from ear to ear. Nova, Clive, I reminded him, my name is Nova, OK? Yes, Mi... uh, Nova. And I promise, I will ring you tomorrow to give me the grand tour. I give him a quick wink then turned to chase down the doorman.

As I reached the check in counter I saw a porter, their equivalent of a bellhop, enter an elevator, or lift as they call it here, with my stuff. Boy, I thought, they're quick with service here. I turned to the concierge just as he slid the register toward me. While I signed in he was swiping my plastic and in no time I was headed to the lift escorted by Mr. Important himself. Do you know, he asked, about how long you will be staying with us, Miss Starr? I thought for a moment then said, I'm not sure but probably less than a week. Very good, Miss. If you need anything, anything at all, please feel free to contact the front desk by dialing zero. He seemed very eager to please and I can just imagine how, by the look in his eye.

Here we are, Miss Starr, room 303, he said as we entered the already open door. The porter had just finished hanging my clothes in the closet and was standing by to see if anything else was needed. Do you find the room satisfactory, Miss, he queried. Just a moment, please, I responded. I looked slowly around, sat on the bed, peeked out the window and in the bathroom. Then I looked him square in the eye and asked, What is your name Sir? Reginald Smythe-White, Miss, he replied, but you can just call me Reggie. Hmmm, yes, well, Mr. Smythe-White, this room is FABULOUS, I squealed with a giggle. I love it!!! He beamed like he was the one who decorated it himself. Very well, Miss Starr, will there be anything else, he asked, looking ever so happy. That will be all, thank you. I've had a long day and I want to relax. As you wish, Ma'am, here is your key.

He turned to leave then motioned for the porter to follow him. I looked at the boy, who couldn't have been much over eighteen years old, and hadn't taken his eyes off me since I walked in. I whispered, Wait, what time do you get off work tonight? At six PM, Ma'am. Would you like to visit with me for a while after you get off, I asked. I'm sorry, Ma'am, hotel staff are not allowed to fraternize with the guests. I tucked a 100 Pound note into his jacket pocket and said, can't you just sneak in the back way or something? Well, maybe, 'specially if I forgot something in my locker, I guess. That's the spirit, young man! I'll make it well worth your while. He glanced at the bill in his pocket, grinning, and said, you already have, Ma'am. What is your name, son, I asked. Michael, Ma'am, Michael Guinness. Michael, I mused, where have I heard that name before. If this one is anything like the other one... Wow! Fine, Michael, and when you're around me, you call me Nova, OK? Thank you, Ma'am... I mean... Miss Nova. (He was definitely determined to be polite.) I'll see you about six thirty, he said, with a big smile on his face that had not left all the time we talked. Neither did the huge lump in his pants. Great, I replied, now go before you get in trouble. In a flash he was gone.

After the long (and entertaining) flight I was quite drowsy so I decided to take a little siesta. Upon arising I headed for the shower to get prettied up for the new Michael, who would be arriving in about an hour. As I stepped into the shower I was met by an armada of shower heads coming at me from every angle and there was an electronic control panel set into the wall. From it I could set the water pressure, temperature and spray pattern. I eventually found out that I could program custom patterns any way I liked. I started punching buttons. I was like a kid with a new toy! Working with the preset patterns, I found one that I liked, set the temp at 104 and let 'er rip. This one included one head that was about the level of my knees and pointed upwards. Immediately seeing the advantage to that I took a wide legged stance and stepped into the stream. Oh My God!

I arched my back and swiveled my pelvis forward to get the full effect of the little needle streams as they pounded my clitoris. I felt tiny needles piercing the outer lips. I have never had anything make me so horny so fast. Vibrations of passion were coursing through my entire body. Two more sprays were assaulting my breasts, exciting my nipples into incredible hardness. Obviously, the designer of this system had women in mind. Using my hand I vigorously massaged my entire vaginal area. Hey, I have an idea!

I turned around and bent way forward so it was hitting me from the rear. I reached back and with a finger of each hand pulled open my love tunnel. The needle streams shot so far in they struck my cervix. And from this position they were hitting my clit too. I was beginning to quiver all over then suddenly - AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! The spasms brought me to my knees. Wracked with multiple aftershocks I was just a mass of convulsing flesh. It seemed like forever before I was able to stand and finish my shower. I knew right then and there where New Mike and I were going to end our love session!

With wobbly legs I got out, toweled off and grabbed the blow dryer. I mentaly went through my available clothing and decided what to wear. I settled on a red satin plunge bra and matching panties, a white satin vee neck blouse, black mini skirt, white silk thigh high stockings and my black patent stilettos with the jeweled straps. I topped it all off with a red satin bow for my hair, dark smokey eyes, long long lashes and bright red lips and nails. That ought to fairly well knock his socks off. I also called room service and ordered Chateaubriand for two and a bottle of their best Cabernet Sauvignon. It's almost 6:30 and for some reason I feel nervous, like I was going out on my first date. I guess I just wanted to do all this right. But for why, I don't know. It's not like I was going to ask the guy to marry me. He's just a one-night-stand, so to speak. Although I most likely wouldn't limit it to one night, depending on how good he is.

I was sitting by the window gazing out over the expanse of London when I heart a light knock on the door. I walked over and slowly opened it to reveal a nervous looking young man dressed in casual English attire. Hi, Michael, I said, come on in. I turned and walked into the room, leaving him to close the door. Be sure to lock it, Hon, I said. He did, then walked slowly toward me, his eyes about to fall out of his head, looking me up and down. Golly, Miss Nova, he exclaimed, you look absolutely smashing. I never knew a bird could look as good as you do. Even more than you did this morning when you checked in. Bird? What do you mean by that, I asked. Oh, so sorry, he replied, it's just a slang term we use for girl. I believe your equivalent would be 'chick'. Nothing derogatory, mind you. Oh, OK, and thanks for the compliment. That was very sweet of you. Come, lets sit and chat a bit till dinner comes. Room service is bringing something up for us. We sat at the table and did some small talk.

So, how old are you, Michael? I asked. I just turned twenty four last week, he replied. Really? You look closer to eighteen. Well then, a belated happy birthday to you, you old man, I kidded. He just giggled and said, thank you. Right then another knock on the door startled us and he got a scared look in his eyes. It's ok, I told him, it's probably just room service with our dinner. You go stand in the bedroom for a moment. He did and I went to the door. When I opened it there stood a man in chef's attire. Bon jour, Madame, you requested Chateaubriand for two? he asked in a nice French accent. Yes, please come in. Merci, Madame. I am Chef Francois, the head chef here and I am to be your server tonight. Thank you, Chef, that is very kind of you, I said. Quick like a bunny he set about dishing up dinner. After the food was served and the wine was poured and everything was in place, Francois parked himself in a remote corner of the room and just waited. I went to the table and took the tiniest nibble of the steak. I spun around to face the chef with wide open eyes and a big smile. Oh my goodness, I said, looking right at him. Chef Francois, that is absolutely wonderful! You are excellent in your craft. But if you'll forgive me, I would like to be alone when my fiancee arrives, if you know what I mean. He smiled kindly with a knowing look and said, but of course, Madame, enjoy your meal. Thanks to you, I replied, I will. As soon as he closed the door, I locked it then called Michael out.

Wow, he exclaimed, what a set up. Nice, huh, I said, let's eat. For the next hour we exchanged life stories, ate all the food and sipped half the wine. We were getting to feel very relaxed. Michael took his knapkin and gave his mouth a final wipe then stood up. He gently tugged my hands that I should stand with him. Looking me straight in the eyes he brushed back a few stray strands of my hair with his fingers, he cupped my face in his hands and very slowly moved his parting lips into contact with mine. We both gasped slightly at the pleasure of the touch. Our tongues quickly sought out each other's, tasting the sweetness to be found there. I noticed that his kiss, although very sensual, was also very gentle. He didn't try to mash my lips through my teeth like many guys do. His fingers gently caressed my ears and neck and then up to toy with my hair. After a moment he broke the kiss and moved his lips down to kiss and nibble on my neck while his searching hands sought out my rib cage and back.

Coming up under my blouse he very softly traced lines with his finger tips on my back and sides. Every now and then he would pause and gently grab a small pinch of skin. But it was so gentle that there was no discomfort at all, I found it rather exciting. And it tickled a bit. Then he moved his lips to the little hollow spot just below my voice box as he moved his hands around to clamp onto substancial portions of butt. Very gently he massaged every square inch, (or is it centimeter here). My breath was starting to come in short bursts as the estrogen started flowing full force. At this point, Michael stood straight up, gave me a quick peck on my lips then proceeded to lift my blouse up and off and flung it on the chair. Blimey, he said in his lovely British accent, What beautiful Bristols you have! Bristols? I asked. Yeah, you know, boobs, breasts, knockers, hooters an' all that rot. Oh, was my only reply. Then his face plunged down into my cleavage and I could feel his tongue working in and out of the canyon between the mountains as he reached around and started slowly unhooking my bra. When he had all the hooks free he slowly pulled the straps down off my shoulders and sent it to join my blouse.

Holding both my hands, Michael backed up to sit on the corner of the bed then pulled me close to him. As he sat there his face was level with my breasts. He brought his hands up to softly cup the girls and kissed and gently sucked the nipples, going from one to the other several times. I was getting so excited that my nipples hardened right up like little towers, sticking out a full three eights of an inch. After a bit of this his hands slid down my sides, over my hips and down to my legs where he softly stroked my silky smooth stockings. He would move his hands down the outside of my thighs to my knees, bring them around to the front and go back up to the bottom edge of my panties, trace the seam around to the inside of my thighs and then back down to the knees. Then he would go back up the outsides to my panties again and this time trace the hem around to the back, pause to draw circles with his fingers on my back porch and then down the back side of my legs. He did this, like, two or three times and it was all I could do to stand there and not jump his bones. This Brit was making me so hot I could boil water just by holding the tea kettle in my bare hands.

Quicker than I could blink my glassy eyes he jerked my panties down to my ankles. I stepped quickly out of them and with a flick of my foot sent them to find their lost friends. In another blink his hands were all over my bare buns, squeezing and neading like a couple loaves of bread, working his fingers between the cheeks. All this time he was giving my navel a wonderful tongue job.

In another move that was too quick to follow my skirt was down around my ankles. Step, kick and it went to join it's fellows. WOW, he exclaimed. What, I asked. Nova, he replied, those beautiful legs of yours go all the way up to Heaven! But I see no grass grows in your pasture. He stared at my special love place, apparently, mesmerized. So I took the opportunity to do a little show dance for him. I moved back a step, put my hands up behind my head then started doing some moves I learned in belly dancing classes as I turned in a slow circle. While I danced he kept rubbing the very large lump that formed in his pants. I knew it was about time to relieve him of the pressure.

When I finished my dance I pulled his arms to indicate to him to stand. When he did I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off his shoulders and sent it to the growing pile. I spent a little time stroking his muscular chest and stimulating his nipples, enjoying the soft moans coming from his lips. Now I was the one to sit on the corner of the bed as I was unbuckling his belt and opening his pants, letting them fall to his feet. What I saw made my heart quicken. His Love Lance was straining the seams of his jockey shorts, wanting to be released in the worst way. But I just had to tease it just a bit.

Using the tips of my long finger nails I made little scratching motions from the head down the length of the shaft to the family jewels and back up. His tool was pulsing and throbbing, trying to push it's way through the fabric. I grabbed the waistband and pulled the front down just far enough to expose the head and went to work on the bare skin with my nails. He started quivering, shaking, moaning. In one swift motion I ripped his shorts to his ankles, letting it all hang out. In two quick moves he removed two shoes and two pants and sent them you know where. And there he stood in just his socks. And there stood his Passion Piston, at full attention. I was suddenly compelled to do only one thing. I reached out, grabbed him by the buns and pulled him toward me. His entire tool disappeared into my mouth and his balls were bumping my chin. I felt his hands lightly grasp my head and pull it to him, not that it could go any farther, my forehead was pressed firmly against his abdomen. I felt his tube swell and stiffen and then it happened.

WHOOSH! Seven shots of his hot love juice shot directly into my throat. I can't tell you how much I love that feeling. Although I wasn't expecting it so soon. The first two I swallowed but the rest I held in my mouth. I pulled back, stood up, grabbed his head and locked my lips to his, which he hungrily accepted. As soon as he opened his mouth I shot that load right into his mouth. He seemed a bit surprised but he didn't pull away. We just swapped it back and forth a few times. On the last time into his mouth he closed up and held it there. He paused for a second, smiling at me, then he give me a hard push on my shoulders that sent me flying back onto the bed so hard that my legs flew straight up into the air. He quickly caught them and held them up and then dove face first right into my playground area. He opened his mouth and engulfed my mound and let his fluid drizzle into my love tunnel and all over the little man. Furiously his tongue worked my pleasure bump as several fingers entered my vagina. Then he worked one of his cum covered fingers into my bum hole. By this time I was the one who was quivering and shaking. Little by little my sphincter was relaxing and he had three fingers in there comfortably. In a flash he got up to change positions, going between my legs for some good action. He pushed my legs way back till my knees were nearly on my chest and in one swift thrust his entire shaft invaded my brown eye. In and out, in and out it slid, his jewels slapping my back side with each thrust. Oh my God, it felt so good. Pump me, Michael, pump me hard, I yelled. He was pounding me so hard that the top of my head kept banging the headboard. My breasts were trying to slap me in the face. Darned near made it, too!

Without missing a stroke he pulled out of that hole and slid right into the other. Holy cow, what a sensation! Right back to the hard pounding he went. He was like a human pile driver. He was sure driving his pile into me. My clit was taking a pounding too, much more of this and I'm gonna blow. Then he started a new trick. He pulled out of the front door and into the back door, then back to the front, then to the back. Back and forth he went, about twenty times. Never have I experienced anything like this. It felt WONDERFUL!!! Suddenly, I felt him stiffen up and a low growl came from his throat. He pulled out and stood up and straddled me, stroking his shaft. Three strokes later he erupted in a fountain of semen which he spray all over my face and breasts. This time it was like eight or nine shots. Where does he get all this stuff?

After the convulsions calmed down Michael laid on the bed beside me and asked me to lay on top of him. As I was getting into position he reached up and started rubbing his juice all over my breasts and face. Mmmm, that feels good, I told him. He pulled me closer so that my chest was pressed onto his and rubbed my face all over his so that we were both covered with cum from the waist up. Then we engaged in some deep soul searching kissing. What a mess we were. It all tasted and smelled and felt so good. For about the next half hour we just laid there together, talking, caressing, kissing, being slippery and smelly. Eventually we got up and headed for the shower.

After finding an interesting combination of water sprays we just stood there in the flood of water luxuriating in it's warmth and that of each other. We took turns washing the other's body. As I was washing his equipment it seemed to come to life again. Where he got the energy for that I'll never know. But who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind having his horse in my mouth. So, without a seconds hesitation I dropped to my knees and took the whole animal in. It felt so good to have his hose down my throat again. I moved back and forth on that marvelous manmeat from stem to stern. Up and down, in and out, over and over. The more I sucked the stiffer he got. My God, he was so hard. And so big! I felt him start to quiver and I knew he was close. I increased my effort, pulling on his balls and fingering his bum hole. He grabbed my head and pulled it harder onto his shaft. Then the spasm and swelling, then... the flood. I've never met a guy that could pump as much cum as he does. I was determined to not lose one single drop of his precious juice. And I didn't.

After we got out and dried off I asked him if he would come and just lay next to me for a bit and he did. We just laid there cuddling, enjoying each other's presence. Next thing I knew the early morning sunlight was streaming in the window and Michael was gone. When I got up to get dressed I saw a folded piece of paper on the table that wasn't there last night. I opened it and it was a message from Michael. Attached was the 100 Pound note that I had given him yesterday. The note read: Nova, thank you so much for last night. I will never forget it, or you. I don't want to seem ungrateful but I am returning the money because it makes me feel like a Gigolo and I'm not. I hope you understand. All the best, Micheal. I understood. All the best to you, too, my sweet lover.

This story will be continued in part 3.