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The Deserted Hallways of SF

I spent the past week in beautiful San Francisco. I saw friends, ate delicious food, and had an overall wonderful time. A special friend of mine showed me a new and exciting way to explore the city: We met up one afternoon, and, knowing my love of views from high places, he took me to see some of his favorite sites from the highest windows of various hotels. We wandered into and out of the Hotel Intercontinental, the Fairmont, the St Regis, and countless others. We tried to be as inconspicuous as possible in the lobbies because, when we got to the highest floors, we engaged in activities we'd rather not be overseen doing. The first time we found a corridor deserted enough to be safe, he pushed me up against the wall, pinning my hands above my head and using his knee to part my legs. He kissed me, light at first, growing harder and more aggressive until my chest rose and fell in passionate earnest, and I was ready to have him right there.

This was, of course, where he stopped. He'd decided we'd sampled enough of that hotel's view, and it was time to find another. Achingly, grudgingly, I followed him back to the elevators, praying that the next hotel had a similarly accommodating deserted corridor. I was in luck- not only was the next high hallway deserted, the view was even better than the first. I wasn't going to be left to his whims this time. I put my mouth near his, letting my breath deliciously tickle his skin, and whispered that he should unzip his pants. He let out a soft moan as I sank to my knees and took him into my mouth. Thinking to give him a taste of his own medicine, I persisted until he was almost at his peak, then suggested we find another location whose view we could enjoy. His face wore a mix of frustration and bemusement as he zipped up his pants in jerky, deliberate movements.

We both were in rather a hurry to reach our next view, striding down the street as fast as we could without attracting attention. We maintained our composure through the lobby, even in the elevator, surrounded by legitimate hotel patrons. When at last we reached our beautiful, deserted haven, neither of us wasted any time. Insistently, we kissed and stroked and rubbed until we both reached a much needed climax, clapping our hands to each other's mouths, lest we give away our hiding place. Collapsing against the wall, we concluded our late afternoon in exhausted silence, the Golden Gate Bridge glinting at us in the distance.

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