The room was chilly and beige. It smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke and carpet shampoo. Beyond the open curtains the streetlamps splayed in the cold, winter air. From her place in the nondescript beige armchair, Emma thought the man on the bed looked vulnerable. Lit by the gloom of the bedside lamps, Sean lay with his back propped against the padded headboard, lanky legs stretched out in front of him. His shoes and socks were off, and his jeans were unbuttoned, the fly splayed open to his purpose. His fist stroked the pale column of his erect cock.
“Is this all you want?” His words were hesitant but heavy with breath.
A lie of a nod and a tight smile: of course it wasn’t all she wanted. What she wanted was to dispense with her panties, climb onto the bed and sink down onto his cock. But that wasn’t going to happen. That she wouldn’t allow herself and she had told him so.
“Are you sure?” Sean’s hand made slick sounds as it moved over his oiled erection.
Outside, evening traffic noise seeped through the closed windows. Somewhere in the distance someone was breaking glass. “Yes. I’m sure. Just what we agreed on. Okay?”
He stopped, fingers cupping the engorged head. His thumb brushed the blunted tip. “I thought maybe you’d change your mind. You know, when you got here. Once we actually met.”
She’d worried about the same thing. She’d watched many, many men do this, witnessed many couples fuck in settings just like this one, but never with a friend. Never someone she felt any affection for. Now, there in that purgatory of a room, she wondered if she’d made a mistake.
“Don’t be hurt, Sean. I told you it would be like this. I can’t help the way I am.”
“I know. I just thought…”
She smiled again – it took more of an effort this time – and shook her head. “Please, just… come for me. That’s all.”
His throat was dry as he swallowed. She heard the effort of it above the ambient noise of the room. He glanced down at his crotch and began to masturbate again, not with much enthusiasm.
“Talk to me, then. It feels sterile with you just sitting there.”
Her mouth crooked. This time it was effortless. “But you’re hard anyway, aren’t you?”
“My dick is stupid. But I’m not. Talk to me. Please.”
She knew what he wanted, the things that got him off. She’d typed them often enough. But saying it aloud – that was harder. Nonetheless, she owed him that much. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and then began.
“You’re such a slut, Sean. Such a filthy, dirty slut. Stroking your cock in some shabby, anonymous hotel room for a woman you’ve never met in your life.”
He let out a jagged whisper of a breath. It ended in a little whine. His hand began to move again, encircled thumb and fingers tightening, pulling up and down on the skin the shaft.
“You’re hard. So fucking hard,” she let her tone drop, “and you just can’t help yourself, can you? So filthy.”
A groan wormed up from somewhere deep in his throat, the slick sounds grew louder, faster.
“That’s it. Just like that. You love it don’t you? Showing me just what a piece of cunt toy you are? All you want to do is come. But don’t you dare do it without my permission.” She injected a level of menace into the last of her words. “Don’t you dare.”
“Please…don’t…” he stammered. His eyes slid closed as his fist worked harder.
She felt better now that his eyes were shut. She pushed herself out of the chair. “Don’t? Don’t what?” Her voice descended to an almost-whisper as she approached the bed. “Look at you. Degenerate. That’s what you are. And you can’t help yourself, can you?”
“No.” The word was strangled by arousal.
The imagery didn’t turn her on. She’d never been all that interested in dominating men. But his reaction to her words, the lust they invoked, tightened her chest, made her belly flutter.
“Fuck, I should tie you to the bed, pillows piled under your hips until your shameless ass is as high as I want it. And then fuck you till you scream.”
Sean let out a choked groan. He was pumping furiously now. Pearls of pre-cum teared from the tip. The droplets landed, with each stroke, onto his bare white stomach, catching and glistening in the darker hairs that ran up to his navel.
When she reached the bed, she bent over, leaning on her hands as she brought her mouth closer to his ear. “I’d use you like a hole,” she growled. “Like the slutty, wanton little cunt you are.”
“God. Fuck me. Please.”
There it was. Need, desire so strong it burst onto the stillness of the room, tainting the air with an ache. It hurt. It hurt deliciously to stand so close, to see the beads of sweat that birthed and glinted along the line of his sternum. To smell the faded scent of morning soap rise off his skin, and the sweetness of the oil he’d used on his cock, and the richer musk of his crotch. The tip of her tongue prickled with want. Her cunt felt swollen, sticky. Afterwards, alone, she’d take care of it.
“Fuck you? Are you mad? I wouldn’t fucking touch you. I wouldn’t sully my skin with you. I’d use a dildo.”
“No,” he whimpered. “No. Ride me. I want you on me, around me.”
“Never. I don’t fuck trash like you.”
His eyes flew open and he turned his head towards her. “Then kiss me. Kiss me.”
Something in his voice had changed. He’d broken the spell. He’d cheated. A scythe-like blade of ice pushed into her gut. She pulled back.
“No.”
“Yes! Please!”
His hand shot out, fingers surrounding one of her wrists. It was the hand he’d used to stroke his cock, slick with oil and hot with friction. She tugged against the grip that held, then slipped, then held again, suddenly terrified.
“Stop it. Let go, Sean.”
“Just a kiss. Just one.” He was on his knees, free hand curling around the back of her neck to pull her towards him. A desperate uncontrolled urgency in the embrace.
“No. Don’t…don’t spoil this,” she said more softly, making her voice gentle, tamping down her own panic. Her gaze held his and she furrowed her brow. “Don’t ruin everything.”
The hold on her neck eased and he freed her wrist, leaving the smear of oil and heat behind. “Jesus. I’m sorry.”
She knew better than to draw away just then. Instead she sat down on the side of the bed, smoothing her skirt over her thighs. “I’m sorry, too. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.”
“No. I said I could do it. I said I wanted to. It’s my fault.”
The fingers, still resting lightly on her neck, moved. His thumb caressed the tendon there. The sensation, no matter how sweet, how well meaning, was too much. Too tender. Too intimate. It was breaking her heart.
She shook her head and smiled at the wall. Tears pricked at her eyes. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine.” Carefully pulling his hand off her neck, she lay it on the bed and patted it. “I should go.”
“Don’t. I can do this. I said I could, and I can. Do you still want me to?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Please. We’ll start again.”
It had already gone too far, too wrong. Part of her wanted to get out of that fucking hotel room as quick as she could and drink herself into enough of a stupor to fall asleep. But the other part – the better part, she thought – didn’t want to hurt him.
“Alright.” She gave him a quick smile and got to her feet.
“Can’t you just sit here, a little closer? It helps.”
She thought for a moment, feeling blindly for her limitations, and then sat back down. “Okay, but don’t touch me. Can you do that?”
Sean cocked his head. “Yes. I guess. I don’t understand why not. I wouldn’t force you, you know. I’d never do that.”
“I know. Just…please don’t touch me. Touch yourself.”
He worried his lip. “Okay. But look at me. Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to talk the way we do online?”
Shifting back on the bed, settling back against the headboard, he exhaled. “No, just…just tell me what you want.”
“I want to watch you feel pleasure.”
A smile bent the edge of his mouth; his hand returned to his cock. It was semi-erect and gave a little bob as he touched it. “What else?”
“I want to listen as the arousal begins to take you over.”
He began to stroke again, slowly, deliberately. It only took three or four to regain his erection. He glanced from her, down to his groin, then back again. “What else?” he repeated.
“I want to see you come.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s proof. Proof of pleasure.”
He was looking into her eyes now, fist moving faster. Little twitches tugged at the muscles of his jaw. “Know what I want?”
“Not really. Tell me.”
“I want to know what you taste like. Whether it’s like I imagined.”
She smiled. “What else?”
“I want…” His breath came quicker now, lips parted between his words. “To feel your lips around my cock. The heat, the pressure of them.”
“My mouth? Wet? Tight?”
“Yes. Sucking. With my fingers in your hair.”
Her nipples stung as they stiffened. She fought not to break eye contact with him, but his gaze was starving her of oxygen. “What else?”
“Then to kiss you. And taste my cock on your mouth.”
“Not come in it?”
“No,” he rasped. “No…against you. On your skin.”
The ache in her cunt turned to sharp needles as the muscles fluttered. A single hot surge of wetness soaked her panties. “Where?”
Sean squeezed his cock, pumping it steadily. “Your skin.”
“But where?”
“Your breasts…belly…thighs…I’d paint you.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
“Because why?”
“I’m close. Very close.” His jaw trembled as he spoke. The sinews on his throat stood out against his skin.
“I know. Come for me.
Sean took one enormous breath and held it. His eyes turned sightless as the orgasm overloaded his synapses. She glanced down. A pale stream of come spattered his stomach, and then another, then another.
The familiar surge of sharp-edged elation swept over her body, setting her skin aflame, making her heart pound against her ribcage. Then, after a few moments, she looked up and smiled.
“Well, that worked,” he muttered.
“Yes, it did. Thank you.”
“Oh, no. Thank you.” He gave a little chuckle. “So, would it kill you to kiss me now?”
She stood up. The chemicals made it impossible for her to stop smiling. They fizzled in her veins like soda, her pulse almost deafening in her ears. She picked up her purse, avoiding his gaze.
“Yes, it would.”
She left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.
The more I read what you write the deeper I see into the twists the turns. The more fascinating it becomes. Never an extra word used or wasted.
i love the detail of the “nondescript beige chair.” actually, your whole first paragraph captures the sterile essence of a hotel room quite well.
this is a compelling story. i’m very intrigued by the narrator. why does she like this? when did she realize it?
are you planning to write more?
I love this near balance between intimacy and isolation. Very exciting.
Eve
I’ve just been reading you for a few weeks and I felt obliged to comment finally and apologize for being a lurker. This was glorious!
Brilliant. The erotic is about desire, and desire is so much about separateness and striving for intimacy across boundaries that we can’t cross, don’t dare cross. You got it right here, Rgrl: “The sensation, no matter how sweet, how well meaning, was too much. Too tender. Too intimate. It was breaking her heart.” Yeah, it would kill her to kiss him. Brilliant.
I have nothing to add except: Brava!
Full buy in – I feel uncomfortable with her requirement to remain so separate. It makes me long for that intimicy of touch for her.
Superb. Is she protecting herself or protecting him, I wonder?
You write..I feel. If that’s your intention with your readers, you succeed every time.
WOw. Thank you!.
By the way, I loved this one too.
I wanted so much for her to make love to him. I should likely say have sex with him, but I believe that some affection would make the contact more palpable, deeper, moving, and surely the orgasm would be stronger.
I want to know why she has to keep her distance, what led him to agree to meet her with the limitations she had set. I want to know both of them better.
As others have said, you do make us feel, and see, so much.
Now, to bed to think of ‘others’.
Bye.
Hello Nancy, lovely to see you again. You wrote: “I want to know why she has to keep her distance, what led him to agree to meet her with the limitations she had set. I want to know both of them better.”
Then I have done my job. What do you think makes people this way? What makes them so frightened to indulge in intimacy? What are they scared of losing?
I just wanted to tell you how much I love your fiction. How raw and unpretentious it is, how much truth you capture. It feels incredible to discover writing with a pulse, that is an adventure rather than an exercise. Thank you.
Lovely interplay of fantasy and reality; so very realistic in my experience. I also greatly enjoyed your description of her post-orgasmic state: your words paint a picture so much more powerful than an actual picture could ever achieve.
I was distracted by life but have started reading again today. As an aspiring writer I learn a lot from you. Thank you.
love it. great tension.
As always, you paint a picture for the mind. You never disappoint. Thanks.
Even formulating a concise response for this story is a challenge at the moment … This one packs a punch that i find incredibly sad.
Someone touched on ‘her protecting him’ in one of the earlier comments – somehow that resonates. Perhaps she feels that sparing him the pain of losing her far out-weighs the pain of not truly knowing her to begin with. i don’t know, it’s just a thought, but i think she’s hiding something.
This stirs up the emotional kettle for me, rg.
Yet, as always – told with an expert and critical eye.
I’m one of those annoying vultures who has been reading your stories without commenting. I just don’t think I have anything to say that is interesting enough to follow what you’ve written. But, here goes…
I think the reason your stories stay with me so long is all the things you don’t say. Why is she this way? Has something happened to her, or is it just the way she has always been put together? What happens next? Do they meet again online or in real life, or does she avoid him now that he has come too close?
The bit with the chemicals fizzing in her veins at the end was a nice touch.
Sorry, would you mind changing the name on my previous post or deleting? There was a little spazzy clicking on my end.
I haven’t read your work in a little while. It’s been accumulating in my RSS reader, awaiting some free time—and I’m glad to have found some finally. This was a great story with which to kick off my mini-marathon of erotica. If all the pieces I’ll be reading tonight are this good…well, it might be more than I can handle. It was an excellent piece, balancing wonderful writing with just the right amount of sex, perfect character development, and an intense rush from having to think so much about everything that was going on. I look forward to all that lies in store.
♥ Ash
So fantastically done.
I am drawn in to wondering why “She tugged against the grip that held, then slipped, then held again, suddenly terrified” Most people don’t have that reaction unless they have been trapped & helpless before…
Hmmm very nicely done as always you have drawn me in & made me want
Thank you!
Kept me right here, enthralled, caught more tightly in your spell with each word, with each image you painted in my head. Lovely writing RG. Thank you.
Read this in “Too Much Boogie” a few days ago. One of my top 5 in the collection. The sexual tension and deprivation all in such a neat package. There so much told about the characters by what they don’t do.