El Experimento Marriott

The hotel room smelled like chlorine and the faint vanilla of the mini-shampoo. Leo watched Mia unpack—her back to him, blouse riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin above her jeans.

"Three days," she said, not turning around. "No kids, no work calls, no neighbors dropping by."

He heard the zipper of her suitcase. "So what do you want to do?"

She finally faced him, holding something dark and lacy. A black teddy she'd bought last week and never worn. "I want to be someone else tonight. Someone who fucks her husband in a hotel room like they're strangers."

He felt his throat tighten. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She let the teddy drop and stepped closer. "I want you to take what you want. No asking."

The kiss was immediate, hungry. Her fingers found his belt while his hands slid under her blouse, palming the warm weight of her breasts. She moaned into his mouth, then pulled back, breathless.

"Bed. Now."

She stripped fast, leaving a trail of clothes. He watched her tits bounce as she crawled onto the king-size, then turned and looked over her shoulder.

"You just gonna stare?"

He was on her in seconds. The mattress dipped, and she let out this little gasp when his hand slid between her thighs. She was already wet—slick, hot, ready. He pushed two fingers inside her and she bucked against his palm, letting out a low "fuck..."

"¿Así?"

"Don't stop."

He worked her slowly, watching her face. Her eyes were half-closed, lips parted. When he curled his fingers, she gasped and grabbed the sheets. "Right there... oh god, don't stop that..."

He added a third finger, stretched her, watched her pussy grip his hand. She was whimpering now, hips moving in small circles. "Leo... I need your cock. Now."

He pulled his hand away and she groaned in protest—then he flipped her onto her stomach, grabbed her hips, and lined himself up. The head of his cock pressed against her wet slit, and she pushed back, taking him in a slow, steady inch.

"Fuck, you're tight," he breathed.

"Cállate y fóllame."

He drove in deep and she cried out, a sharp, raw sound. The rhythm was fast from the start—hard, wet slaps of skin, her ass bouncing against his thighs. She reached back and grabbed his hand, pulled it to her mouth, bit his knuckles.

"That's it," she gasped. "Don't be gentle."

He leaned forward, chest against her back, and bit her shoulder. She moaned and pushed back harder, matching his pace. He could feel every twitch of her, the way her muscles clenched around him.

"I'm close," she whispered. "Don't stop, please don't stop..."

He reached under her and found her clit, rubbed in tight circles while he kept pounding. She cried out, body stiffening, and he felt her come—hot, pulsing, her pussy squeezing him like a fist.

He came right after, buried deep, groaning into her neck. She collapsed beneath him, and he stayed inside her, both of them slick with sweat.

For a long time, there was just the sound of their breathing, the hum of the AC, the distant traffic.

Mia turned her head, just enough to see him. "I think I like being someone else."

He kissed her shoulder. "I think I like whoever you wanna be."