Date: Mon, 17 Sep 2012 00:57:00 +0100
From: Lamort DeLioncourt <lamortdelioncourt1954@hotmail.com>
Subject: St. Moritz--Badrutt?s Palace Chapter 2

St. Moritz--Badrutt's Palace
Chapter Two


I continued to watch the snow falling through the train window. I must have
fallen asleep, as the next thing I knew; the steward was gently waking
us. We had arrived in St. Mortiz. The steward informed us that our driver
was retrieving our luggage, and we could disembark when we were ready.

As we exited the train, our driver had the car at the ramp for us. It was
quite cold, but the snow was no longer falling. The driver held the door
open, and we got into the car. The heater was running, and the interior of
the car was toasty warm. We settled ourselves in as the driver closed the
door. The driver introduced himself to us, telling us his name was Maurice,
and told us he would be taking us to the hotel. The hotel had thoughtfully
provided a bottle of Champagne, which he opened and poured for us. John and
I toasted each other and the start of our holiday.

It was a short ride to the hotel. As we pulled up in front, the doorman met
us, opening the car door, welcoming us back to Badrutt's Palace. Heinrich
always provided a genuinely warm welcome to us. A bellhop appeared and
began unloading the luggage. John provided the customary $50 gratuity to
Maurice while thanking him for his service.

Heinrich escorted us to the impressive lobby doors, opening them gracefully
for us. We stepped into the lobby, and the feeling of being home washed
over us. John smiled at me.

We began making our way to the check-in counter, when Émile, the
concierge, met us. He assured us that our check-in had already been taken
care, and pressed the room key into John's hand. He steered us across the
lobby to the bar and offered us drinks, as our suite was not ready for
occupancy. He led us directly to our usual table by the large windows that
overlooked the lake. John told me about his latest business dealings while
we sat. He also let me know how well the company was doing. I smiled as
always, feigning interest in the business. John was my life and my
interest, not the business. We had time for one glass of Champagne before
Émile returned to our table and told us the room was ready whenever we
wanted to go upstairs. We told him we were ready, and he escorted us to the
elevator. Once we arrived on our floor, he took us to our room. While John
fumbled for the key, Émile slipped his master key into the slot and
opened the double mahogany doors for us.

The smell of fresh cut flowers wafted through the air as we entered. The
floral arrangements were beautiful, and there was a large fresh fruit
basket on the living room coffee table. He gave us the usual quick guided
tour through the suite, and informed us that our luggage had been
unpacked. Our tuxedos were at the laundry for wrinkle removal and our shoes
were out for dressing and polishing. He made his way to the coffee table,
and opened the Champagne bottle for us. He poured two glasses and as he
excused himself, he surveyed the room one last time, making sure everything
was in place. I thanked him for all his thoughtfulness, and John extended
his hand to him, pressing a $100 bill into his palm, also thanking him. As
he exited the door, he informed us that our day butler would be Jacques,
and he would be arriving shortly to help us settle in. With that, he backed
out of the room closing the doors behind him.

Finally alone with John, I lunged at him, planting one of my most
passionate kisses on his warm, Champagne flavoured lips. John wrapped his
strong arms around me, pulling me to him, while driving his hot tongue into
my waiting mouth. He allowed his hands to slip down to my buttocks, where
they began a soft, sensual massage on the tender skin. I felt myself
hardening at his touch. I slipped one hand between us and allowed it to
work its way down to John's groin. I had barely reached the top of the
zipper when I felt his hardness strain against the material of his pants. I
could tell from the throbbing that he was ready to lose his clothes, and
get into some serious sex.

I worked his belt buckle loose, and allowed his pants to slide to the
floor. His erection was straining, struggling for release from his tight
boxers. A small spot of wetness had already formed on the material. John
took hold of my shirt and attempted to unclasp the buttons. He was not
having much luck, and in his frustration, he tore my shirt off, sending
buttons flying. Wanting to keep my pants in one piece, I quickly unbuckled
my belt and let my pants fall to the floor.  John leaned over, took my
nipples in his fingers, and began a squeezing, twisting motion. I felt my
spine start to tingle. I managed to slip down enough that I could get his
nipples in my mouth. I licked and sucked each one individually, while he
continued the caressing of mine.  Soon I felt the familiar push of his
hands on my shoulders, encouraging me to go lower. I slowly slid to my
knees, which placed me directly in front of the bulge of his boxers. I
could see his manhood straining against the fabric. My fingers made their
way into opening of the boxers and grasped the raging beast they
found. With my free hand, I reached around to John's buttocks and slipped
my fingers into the waistband of the boxers, pulling them gently down. As
the boxers made their way to the floor, his erection sprang free, slapping
against my lips, as if to demand immediate attention. I allowed myself the
luxury of tasting the crown of his phallus, with the foreskin in
place. With my tongue, I dug into it, the tip of my tongue finding the head
of his tool already slick with pre-cum. Intent on my task; I gently rolled
back the foreskin, fully exposing the crown. I leaned in, took the entire
head into my mouth, and gave it a tongue-lashing that would excite even the
dead. John began soft moaning as my tongue attacked the sensitive head. He
soon had his hands on the back of my head, forcing more of his maleness
into my mouth. I opened my mouth wider and allowed him to force as much in
as he wanted. No surprisingly, he soon had all of it in my mouth and I
found myself deep throating him. He began the usual thrusting, and I
continued to enjoy the slapping of his couilles on my chin. John increased
his thrusting movements, and I knew he was on the verge of
shooting. Pre-cum was pouring out of him, and I could feel the pulsing of
his head with each inward thrust. I applied maximum suction and began
massaging his couilles. The combined actions pushed him over the top, and
he began shooting his load into my mouth. The first blasts were savage,
striking the back of my mouth and racing down my throat. I barely had time
to taste it before the next volley was flying across my tongue. After three
or four shots, the semen shots slowed and started to dribble out of
him. This allowed me the opportunity to taste his sweet juice. As I cleaned
him up, he looked down smiling at me.

I sat on the floor, and moved over to the sofa, leaning back against
it. John joined me and we sat naked enjoying the after glow of our heated
encounter. John draped his arm around my shoulders, and pulled me to him.

After a few minutes, John got to his feet and helped me up. He went over to
the wine bucket and pulled the cool Champagne from the ice. With practiced
expertise, he slipped the foil off and loosened the cage. He took the towel
wrapped bottle, and slowly turned it until the cork made the traditional
"pop". He gently poured the wine into the flutes and handed me mine.  We
toasted each other and our love, slowly sipping the wine. We made our way
to the sofa and sat down, the leather cool on our warm skin. We finished
our first glass, and John poured us a second.

As he poured the wine, I took note of his nakedness, the outline of muscles
showing under his skin. My eyes made their way to his face, and I found
myself staring into his dark eyes. They held a look of exotic mystery that
promised much more adventure to come.