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The Hotel [Reydan and Andnich123]

RE: The Hotel {reydan and Andnich123]

Some things are familiar, almost routine. Every morning I would awaken, make the coffee, shower, dress for work, a grapefruit for breakfast amid the hustle and bustle that was my home. It was cold and predictable. Even sex with my husband had become a similar routine. Routine. Such and ugly word, and yet it best described day to day life with him.

You move my body before kneeling behind me, and suddenly all of this feels very….familiar. My heart sinks as I’m sure of what you’re about to do. Taking me while I’m in this position, me being nothing more than a hole for your aggressions, someone you don’t even have to look at, feels very….familiar. I don’t voice my feelings, as I’m sure just a moment, just a touch from you, will be far more exhilarating than anything my husband can give me.

You spread me open, and confusion settles. Are you going to take me..here? All the times I begged my husband for this, wanting to explore, to push our boundaries, I was always denied. Here you are, ready, willing, and wanting. Taking a deep breath, I hold it, expecting to feel the tip of your cock pushing against my resistence. Your breath is warm, a prelude as to what is to come. What came next stunned me. Your mouth, warm and wet, touches me. I can feel your tongue lapping at my body. It’s a feeling, an act, I never thought I would experience. There are no word, not that I had the ability to speak anyway. Sounds, sounds that I’m shocked at hearing, come from my throat. Had I not felt them vibrating my throat, I would have wondered if they were even human. My fingers grip the sheets, bundling them beneath clenched hands. I don’t care if I rip them from the bed. It’s uncontrollable. My head, now lifted from the bed and yet hanging somewhat, whips around to try and steal a glance at you. Suddenly I don’t care if I see you and lower my head back to the bed. All I want is all of you in any way you’ll have me. As elegant as the words sound in my mind, all I can muster is, “Don’t stop. Please.” I know the feelings building up within me, and I know I will cum for you again. Until then, I’ll enjoy every second of passionate bliss between us.
 
RE: The Hotel {reydan and Andnich123]

You shiver, body shaking in my hands, and I feel the conflict within you. What thoughts are whirring through your mind in this moment? What hopes and fears and troubles am I stirring up in you, my nameless lover? How odd it is that I do not know your name, nor want to, yet am poised, fully erect, with my face buried in your most private of areas. In another world, one where we are not in the midst of such intimate acts, I would surely laugh at the mismatch.

But you are my world in this moment.

My tongue teases your rosebud, gently poking at the tightness of your rear-hole. I don't penetrate, not wanting to alarm you, but I can feel that this is something you want. Something you have never tried before. I feel, rather than see, your head lower back onto the bed. And your quiet urge for me to continue seems almost to reverberate through your body rather than reach me as spoken words.

I could not stop even if you had asked me to. I need to consume you now.

Our position is indelicate but more intimate than anyone could imagine. Or possibly it is intimate because of that indelicacy, your rear stuck up in the air and my body crouched behind you. My hands leave your hips and snake around your body, marvelling at the soft curves our your form that are yet to be familiar to me. One hand cups your sex, fingertips gently parting your labia and teasing the little nub of your clitoris. Eeking a little pleasure from you.

The other replaces my mouth. Fingers, slick with saliva, trail down the crevice of your sculpted behind and prob at your rear. I have lubricated you with my tongue, the taste of your still on my lips, and now the tip of one finger presses into your rosebud. Just up to the first knuckle. Easing, gently, in as you draw in a breath. Slowly, surely, I add another. Stretching you a little further. And then I spit, or rather let a trickle of warm saliva dribble onto the fingers as they press a little deeper.

Achingly slowly, and with my other hand working your sex to provide pleasure, I begin to finger-fuck your ass.
 
RE: The Hotel {reydan and Andnich123]

You do not respond with words. Your actions do all the talking. The tip of your tongue teasing me, on the verge of giving me what it is I want, an act so different, so new to me, that I was sure I would never experience. Silently I will you to go further, to explore with me, hoping to push you, and yet you keep right on the edge of this desire, the feeling, this decadent act, never fully entering, as if you knew what this would do to my body. My pores are alive, vibrating, tingling, wanting to be touched. Every slow breath feels my lungs to capacity, making my lungs feel as though they will burst from my chest. I can feel my nipples electrified with excitement, erect and begging for a touch, a slip of a finger grazing them softly. Even my toes are curled as if I could somehow will you to go further. Every muscle is awakened. Every feeling Is somehow stronger. I devour them, wanting more even though I can’t see your face.

Your hands move, and I want to shift, to move somehow to accommodate you, but I have no idea what your next move is. I feel as though I’m playing a game that I’ve never played before, and anticipating your next move is impossible. It’s exhilarating. Your fingers move, finding my sex, and the unknown is felt. As excited as I am, your fingers have no trouble finding my clitoris. The hard nub is aching for your touch, and your skilled digits begin to give it, me, exactly what I want. My focus is lost for a moment in the pleasure, allowing it to wrap around me, consuming me, until I feel your finger probing. Eyes that had closed in the heat of the moment slowly open. My lips part as a slow, steady breath is exhaled. Where your tongue had only teased before, your finger breaks through the barrier. My body is tense. I dare not move or speak. Was there fear you would stop? Was there fear you wanted to? Yes, and I didn’t want you to. The sensation was new, foreign, and it sent my body scrambling. Was I suppose to tell you to stop? Was what I was feeling normal? How could this feel so….good? A second finger pushes, working the tight muscles open, and a gasp laced with a moan escapes my lips. There wasn’t a force on earth that could have stopped the sound from coming from me. My fingers clench the sheets beneath me tighter until my knuckles are white. A steady rhythm emerges from you, and it’s clear you’re not going to stop. It’s also clear I don’t want you to. I can feel my body stretching, conforming to you. This is a moment in time that is burned into my mind with vivid clarity. Yes was the word I wanted to groan to you, but all that I could muster was a sound only a being in sheer delight could make. It was an unmistakable sound of bliss. Did I want you to go faster? Did I want you to add another finger? Did I want you to stop..with your fingers..and replace them with your cock? I was lit up with the possibilities. All I did know for sure was that I didn’t want you to stop.
 
RE: The Hotel {reydan and Andnich123]

I feel you tense, a sudden rigidity flushing through your body, up into my fingers. I freeze, worrying that I have hurt you, or worse still, that I have violated you in some way. Then I feel you moan. The second finger, slipping into the warmth of your tight back passage, elicits a second moan from you. Your breath is gaspy and intense and, suddenly, I burn with desire once more. Is this new for you? Is this something you have done before? With other men? With your husband? Somehow I think not, from your reaction, but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters but you. Everything with you is new, intense, exciting. Like the first fumbles of sexual interaction as a youngster, but without the awkward inability or inexperience. I feel you clench the sheet and begin to work your sex along with your puckered sphincter, fingers probing and teasing as they jut in and out. You feel divine, a soft warmth and sheen of wetness that coats the firm digits as they advance and withdraw in a steady rolling movement. I am achingly hard, my shaft oozing drops of precum in arousal. They drip to the sheet between my legs, but I will not simply sink my turgid erection into your waiting body. I want you to have pleasure. My desire to please you pushes on, almost tunnel-vision now, and my ears burn to hear more of your little blissful noises.

My phone buzzes. Once. Twice. Three times, the plastic and metal and glass shuddering in my trousers discarded in a pool on the floor. It will be my wife. My wife calling time on our escapades.

My heart races. How long do I have? Minutes? Double digits? Single?

'Cum for me' I murmur, lips pressing against the soft skin of one taut ass cheek. My fingers piston now, the movement more intense and desperate. I WILL see you over the finish line, even if it leaves me achingly unfulfilled. I will hear you moan out your climax.
 
RE: The Hotel {reydan and Andnich123]

Your face is so close. Never before had I imagine a man’s face would be where yours’ is. There is no child like quality about it. The phrase, ‘kiss my ass’, is not even on my mind. It’s impossible to think such a thing. Instead I marvel at the sheer intimacy of it all. Your face, your fingers, both in places I didn’t think I would ever feel such acts, such closeness.

My fingers tighten on the sheets, feeling them give their hold on the corners of the bed. I’m fully aware I’m ripping from the mattress, and yet I’m unable to stop. Perhaps I was uncaring. Honestly in this moment, I’m not sure which. Frankly I don’t care. Somehow it seems to make everything I feel even more heightned, as if the very act of literally ripping the sheets from the bed could do such a thing. I knew in that moment just how high my feelings were running. The pleasure washing over me was so intense, even my toes tingled. Not only was my body high, but I slowly became aware of the ledge I was precariously perched upon, ready to tumble. To take such a plunge from this..this act..was something I could only fathom.

Until today.

In my mind, it happened in slow motion. Literally I could feel the moment I lost my footing and fell. Then it all happened so fast. The warmth, the way my muscles tighten, the moisture I felt between my legs growing so fast, it all happened so fast. I groaned. No. I cried out. Not words. How could I? What would they be? Your name? I was the start of , ‘yes,’ but it became mangled in a torrent of bliss. The letters of the word falling apart as my voice dipped down into depths I had never heard. My face buried in the mattress but only for a moment. The sheets brought some relief as they cleansed my face from the light layer of perspiration that had built up. Now I could feel the warmth burning in my cheeks, knowing my face had to be red. It was incredible. My back arched, toes curled, face red, and every muscle clenched, even my sex was clamping down, trying to milk a cock that wasn’t there. For a moment , I was sure I was going to pass out as my vision blurred. I didn’t know that could happen, an orgasm so strong a person could lose consciousness? How could this be? Had I been missing this my entire life? Yes! I had!

As much as it wrenched my body, owning it and holding it there, frozen, the orgasm could not last forever. The sweet release rippled through my muscles, slowly slipping its’ hold on me. With grace I came to rest on the bed, my body slumping into a useless pile of flesh. For the first time, I became aware of how hard I was breathing. My chest felt like it was going to explode. There wasn’t enough air in the room. My lungs couldn’t take in enough fast enough. My heart pounded, ringing into my ears. I could feel my head thudding with ever beat. My arms ached and yet felt limp. I tried to move one, but it was in vain. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I didn’t want to. ‘You,’ my mind scrambled. I somehow managed a deep, contented sigh before whispering the first word that came to mind. “Incredible.”
 
RE: The Hotel {reydan and Andnich123]

'Incredible'.

By the time your word leaves those gasping lips, I'm already buttoning up my shirt. My phone is buzzing again now, my wife unsure why I am not waiting for her in our room. I look at you, face down on the rumpled hotel covers. How will you explain this to your husband, I wonder idly. Will you hurriedly remake the room and try to hide the evidence of our coupling? Will you claim some sort of bad dream or feign illness?

Your sex is exposed to me. That perfect rear, toned but with just a hint of age suggesting that, like me, your twenties recently passed from being a lived experience to becoming a memory. It is so lewd a pose. Something that you would see in a dirty magazine of glowing at you from the screen of a website that, really, you know you shouldn't be looking at. But in this setting it just seems - intimate. We have opened ourselves to each other. Wordlessly, to some extent, and certainly namelessly. But we are exposed to each other.

It seems wrong to leave you like this. Vulnerable. Shivering with the afterglow of your pleasure. I lean in, my face coming down to yours as I bend over by the side of the bed. My shirt collar is undone, jacket loose on my shoulders. I press my face to the side of your face. You are turned away from me at this angle. I have a tangle of dark hair and a cheek, an ear, the side of your slender neck, before me. It's an almost vampiric position as I bend over you.

I press my lips to that sweet spot just behind the ear. Intimate. Almost loving. And then I say it. I don't know why. It eats at me from the moment I straighten up, in my mind all night and into the next day. Maybe because I regret leaving you. Or regret...something. But I say it.

'I love you'. Soft and tender, like a kiss, murmured into your skin.

Then I am gone, back down the corridor, like a thief in the night.

I don't see you for a day and a half. Not until the evening of the day after next. I'm in a tuxedo but the collar is open, bowtie dangling rakishly from my neck. I enter the lift, thinking it is empty, the din of the party receding as the golden doors slide noiselessly shut. My wife is working the floor, drumming up business, and is best left too it. These corporate events can go on for hours and hours, well into the god-forsaken parts of the morning no decent person should be awake for. I have slunk away, tired, for bed.

But you are here. Dressed to the nines. Alone. Have you been at the same corporate event? Has your husband? My mind reels. I didn't see you. Did you see me? I say nothing, starring at you.

You are leaning back on the golden rail of the elevator, opposite me, and your slender fingers are poised above the buttons of the panel. Were you just about to press a floor button? Or something else? I notice that your index finger is hovering above the emergency stop button. Do you dare? Is this even your intent?

I watch you, wordless. Waiting.
 
RE: The Hotel {reydan and Andnich123]

‘I love you’.

The words are soft and warm, their sound leaving the room quickly, as if they were a breeze coming in and washing over me just long enough to give me what I needed the most. It’s all like a dream. Movement is impossible. My body rests against the mangled remains of what once a well made bed. I breathe deeply, thinking of you, still smelling you. Your scent, like you, long gone now, but somehow it plays with my senses. I can still feel your touch on my skin, so warm and inviting, with the skill of someone who knew me but laced with the excitement of someone who didn’t. You were real. Our moment was real. How you made me feel was real, and even if I had the strength to move, I didn’t want to. To do so would disrupt that moment, to make it truly pass, and I didn’t want to. All in good time it would happen. My husband would return, asking questions in that tone he used so well with me. Then the moment would be gone, filed away as a memory I would call on on those long, lonely nights he loved to bestow upon me. What would I say? Would it matter? Will he truly ask or even care? Would he even notice?

The night ended with all my fears confirmed, and our vacation….my vacation….moved forward. He was intertwined with business meetings, lunches, and meeting his prospective clients. It was to take place at a party, one that ironically enough he needed me for. Can’t meet the new clients without a wife on your arm now can you,’ I thought. The party was everything these things usually are. Food, a band, champagne flowing , and the stuff shirts as I like to think of them. Boring conversation about business matters I knew nothing about. All I had to do was stand beside him and smile and nod when I heard my cues. The party droned on for hours. Finally I whispered in his ear that I was heading back to the room. He barely noticed. There was a woman there, a big fish, and he wanted to see if they could work out some sort of business arrangement. Of course that would involve flattery at first as he got to know her, followed by a business lunch. If all went well, they would enter into meetings, and the end result would be finializing of a contract. While I was happy for him, I also longed to be away from this.

Silently, unnoticed, I slipped away into the lift and leaned against the railing. The air seems cooler in here against my exposed back. The simple, black, silk gown was only held to my frame by the clasp behind my neck. Backless my husband wasn’t too fond of my wearing it tonight. He preferred me to look dignified, but I wanted to look and feel sexy. I took a deep breath, glad to be away from the crowd. My relief was short lived when I noticed a man joining me. I straightened up and forced a smile, a smile that was soon natural, as natural as the breath I drew into my lungs. It was you. You were so handsome, so well dressed. I couldn’t believe it. There were no words. You looked at me, and I realized it wasn’t a dream. You were really here. My mind was fabricating because I wanted to see you. You had actually walked inside this space with me. I glanced back quickly to the buttons, lit up, calling to me, and realized my finger was hovering over the emergency stop button. I thought about pressing it. There was a certain curiosity about your room though. You had been inside mine. I wanted to see where your wife laid her head at night. I wanted to feel your bed against my body, to lie in the same bed as you did. I wanted you to take me there, on those same sheets. No. I wanted you to touch me. It didn’t matter where. Your room, my room, or even..this lift. My finger pressed the button, halting the lift. Turning to face you once more, my smile grows before I say, “Looks like we’re stuck.”
 
RE: The Hotel {reydan and Andnich123]

The elevator jarrs, a small bell chiming somewhere up in the machinery above us. Everything is still. Still and silent. I can hear my heart beating, thumping rhythmically in my chest. Its seems to have a melody just for you. Deep, heavy, insistent bass notes. The pounding of blood coursing through my body. I am already hard in my carefully dry-cleaned and pressed suit trousers. Swollen with desire.

It takes me maybe two seconds to cross the distance to you but it is enough space for a moment of terrible, unavoidable, clarity to strike me like a bolt from the heavens. This is becoming more than a casual encounter. I saw the smile on your face. The one that traveled up to your eyes in an instant. Your deep, blue, beautiful eyes. Expressive and caring despite a life which, it seems, gives you little to care about. Or even opportunity for expression. This is becoming more than sex.

Of course in closing the distance it becomes all about sex. I make it all about sex again; even as my lips and rough stubble are finding the soft crook of your neck as you arch yourself back against the side of the elevator I am trying to push the inconvenient truth aside. Trying to ensure that this does not go any further, even though I know it must. That the thought is rooted in my head now.

My hands travel down your arms, taking in the soft skin and delicate muscle tone, fingertips exploring your already increasingly familiar limbs until our fingers can entwine as intimately as the rest of our bodies. I have you pinned against the mirrored wall now, my hardness pressing against your warm sex, and my lips travel up the side of your face. Following your cheek bone up to your ear. My right index finger extends and, breaking free of your passionate grip, hits the alarm button again. The elevator judders to life again.

'I want you in my bed' I say into your ear, eyes pressed shut, drinking in the scent of your hair. Intoxicated more thoroughly than the mediocre spirits at the reception just now.

The lift pings to a halt at my floor and, stepping back, I suddenly grab you and sling you over my shoulder in a fireman's lift. Lust for you has made me reckless, and although I can't see your face having thrown it over my shoulder, I grin at what I expect must be a look of surprise and alarm plastered on it. I carry you, like this, one firm hand on your ass to, ostensibly, steady you down the corridor to my room. Possessive but also spontaneous. I want to excite you, to tease you, to hear you not just moan but, what I have never done before, hear you laugh. As we pass an attendant, the only sole awake in the dead corridors of the nocturnal hotel, I wink at the surprised woman. Middle-aged an in a housekeeping uniform, she gawks at my grinning face and your perfectly formed rump as we approach. 'Reliving our honeymoon' I chuckle as we pass, leaving her to gaze at my back and your receding face. Are you embarrassed? Surprised? Amused? I want to know.

I don't put you down until we reach my room, almost an exact copy of your own, and shut the door. Before you can say or do anything I kiss you. But its....different somehow. My lips are more tender. More slow to take pleasure from you. The connection imbued with more feeling.

Crap. It is already happening. We are already slipping beyond the boundaries of a casual hook-up. I break the kiss but won't remove my hands from you hips. Can't let you go.
 
Seconds, long enough for a heartbeat, a single breath to be inhaled through parted lips, long enough for fingers to curl, long enough for eyes to widen, long enough for the anticipation of your touch to become almost too much to bear. Then sweet release. You touch me. So much build up happens in those few short seconds it takes you to come to me, and now that you’re here, now that I can feel your lips touching my skin, I don’t want you to back away. This connection is so powerful. I can’t deny that. I don’t want to.

Your hands touch me. An already strong connection is invigorated. As close as we are, I want more. Your fingertips cascade down my arms as if you were a part of me, an extension of my own body. I feel your fingers lacing with my own. More contact. More connection. My mind screams, ‘More!’ At some point, you must have pressed the button. I wasn’t aware you even moved. The elevator comes to life once more, reminding me where I am. Granted this is my best fantasy alive and happening while my eyes are open and I’m awake, this is still an elevator. For a moment, fear runs through me. Did you want this to end? Was this to be as far as we go? If the answer was yes, I would understand. Mentally I began to prepare myself for such a statement from you. I would understand. I had to, even if it wasn’t what I wanted. Your voice, sweet as honey, causes all those fears to cease and vanish. Those words, those wonderful words, were as if you had read my mind. It was what I wanted as well. If this moment could get any better, that would be how, and here it was, happening.

The elevator stops and the doors open. I want to tell you yes, but it’s as if you know. I’m sure you do. The next thing I know, you’ve thrown me over your shoulder. I squeal with surprise. There is a smile plastered on my face. I can’t believe this. This is something I thought only happened in movies. Even in our earlier days, my husband was nothing like this. I feel free and weightless. There’s nothing holding me down. In fact, you’ve lifted me in the air, and as we walk down the hall towards your room, all I can do is take in the sight of the numbers. Closer and closer we travel towards your room. I can feel my heart racing more with every passing door. One after another, they all look almost the same. The only difference is the blaring, shiny numbers. Your voice speaks once more, and it’s clear you’re not talking to me. As we pass the lady, I can’t help but laugh. It’s such a carefree laugh. I realize I haven’t heard that sound in such a long time. It felt….good….to be able to do it. “He’s so spontaneous,” I tell her as I wave to her in passing. I didn’t attempt to dispel what you had told her. Why would I?

The door opens. When did you take your key out? Atop your strong shoulder, I hadn’t noticed. My feet touch the floor, finally. I hadn’t felt that since before I noticed it was you in the elevator with me. Your lips touch mine, and the connection feels perfect. As they mingle together once more, becoming more aquatinted again, I rest my hands on yours’. You’re so warm, so inviting. The kiss ends, and while on some level, I didn’t want it to, on another level, I wanted to hear your voice again. I could still hear you in my mind speaking with the maid in the hall. It was a casual thing to say, nothing really special about it, but it was your voice. I wanted to hear more. I wanted to feel more, and in a sense, your voice could wrap around me, embracing me, warming me every bit as much as your arms could. “Say something. Please. I want to hear..you. I want..to feel you,” I tell you, lifting one of my to allow my fingertips to caress your face before the inevitable happens and I steal a kiss from you. “Please,” I whisper, breaking the kiss, my lips gently brushing against your cheek. “I want all of you.”
 
The music below in the event space under our feet percolates up. Muffled and muted but not silenced. Still recognisable as you caress my face with gentle fingertips. Its that Rhianna song I can't understand the words for. Apart from the chorus of work-work-work-work. But the beat is heavy and reggae, sensual and loaded with erotic charge on a night like this. Shifting through the floor. Infecting my mind.

I have you. Have you in my arms and, suddenly, as the song continues its slow grind I mimic its rhythm. Turning you, gently, so that you're facing away from me. Grinding you gently against me. My smooth, ironed, dress shirt brushes against the exposed skin of your delicately arching back. My hands are on the swell of your hips as we move, dancing and grinding in a slow and intense routine.

'This is becoming more than a one-time thing' I say softly, lips on your dark hair. My hands leave your hips, my jacket shrugged off as we move together, back and forth. My shirt soon comes open as my fingers work the stiff buttons, bare flesh against bare flesh. I let out a low, satisfied, moan. Finally. 'Now I've heard you laugh....I can't....I can't stop....' I chuckle, deep and husky, my hands sliding up your sides. The material of the dress is sheer and smooth under my touch and, when my hands reach the clasp at the back of your neck, it is simplicity itself to have it slide, as we grind and move together, down between us. It pools at your feet.

I breath in your scent again, arms wrapping around your waist. Holding you oh so close. There's a world of heat growing between us now as my heart hammers away within me. We seem to be molding to each other, our bodies fitting perfectly together as we dance to the slow beat of the reggae song from below. It fills my brain, entangling my senses, affecting my reason. Just like you. You and the song are the same. Enticing. Intoxicating. Strangely other and oh-so-attractive for that otherness. 'My name is Nicholas' I say, closing my eyes as I take the plunge. Shattering the final taboo between us. It feels....strangely good.

'Now I want all of you' I breath as the song, clearly on a loop below, continues on.
 
It was a dance. Really it had been one since we met. The looks, the stolen touches, and the claiming of time with one another. All steps in this intricate, erotic dance we were both entangled in. As you moved behind me, it was second nature to sway along to the thudding beat that seemed to nearly vibrate the floor beneath my feet. I could feel your shirt, starched, pressed, and rough against my skin. It was a connection to you. ‘This is becoming more than a one-time thing.’ The words make me smile. There’s so much truth to that one statement. Our spending time together isn’t simply time plucked from the day and savored. It’s something I look forward to, something I want, and something I feel a relief in my entire body when I finally have. Down corridors, around corners, in the lobby, in the elevator, everywhere I went I had hoped to catch one glimpse of you. Nothing. Until tonight. Now those moments that I had relived from my hotel room, the moments I had caught myself daydreaming about were real. You were real.

I can feel moving and hear the soft, slight rustling of your shirt. You’re taking it off. The thought makes me smile even wider. I’m giddy again, like a school girl. I’ve already felt your body, shared moments with you that I’ve never felt with anyone, you’ve seen my body naked and felt me as well, and yet I feel as though this is the first time. My heart races as if we were in the sauna again, the showers, and of course in my hotel room. It’s new. It’s exciting. It’s….what I want. My dress falls, gliding down my skin, not making a sound as the garment becomes nothing but a pile of fabric around me on the floor. In my lacey undergarments, I do not feel exposed. I feel sexy, desired, wanted, warm. You make me feel all of those things with just a simple glance.

Your arms wrap around me, and it feels….right. This is where I’m suppose to be, in this hotel room, in your arms. It’s a thought, a truth, that I’m afraid to speak. Still it resonates in my mind. Nicholas. Your name is Nicholas. No longer are you the room number or a nameless a face. Nicholas. Over and over I replay your voice telling me your name. “You..are not..the only one..who can’t stop..Nicholas,” I tell you, turning my head slightly, wanting to look at you. “I don’t want to stop. Don’t stop..Nicholas. Don’t stop.” I can no longer resist. I move within your arms, coming to face you. My face rests close to yours’. Our noses barely touching. “Kate,” I whisper. “My name is Kate, Nicholas, and I don’t want to stop.”
 
Even as you turn I'm conflicted. Or, rather, my mind is churning. My body, of course, betrays me. My hands slide across your hips and back, cupping your ass cheeks clad in their lacy coverings. My pulse is racing, my mouth dry, and my erection throbbing painfully in my trousers. You are so close, your warmth washing up against me like a high tide, and I can barely resist.

'Kate' I mouth, your name sounding oh so natural on my tongue even though I have not known it until now. Of course you are Kate. What else could you have been? The name fits you like a glove. Your nose is so close to mine. I turn my head slightly, eyes closing in conflicted emotion and the tips of our noses kiss. An eskimo kiss, the briefest of touches, even as your body presses to mine. 'This is getting complicated' I breathe, although even as I do the sheer proximity of our faces simply reflects the heat of my uncertain breath back onto me. I turn back, eyes meeting yours. What messages pass between us then? We are not a couple married for decades, able to communicate wordlessly in intimate and understood glances. We know nothing about each other, apart from the intricacies of our bodies. The timbre of each other's voices peaked in ecstasy. The taste, so illicit and personal, of each other. What is that? Is that something or nothing?

But there is only you. Only your face looking up at me. Begging me not to stop. So close there is nothing left between us.

We hit the bed in a whirl of movement that leaves me partly winded. I have you up in my arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around me, my trousers and pants falling to the floor as we struggle across the short distance. My lips are on yours now, tongue pressing insistently into your mouth, and I go over backwards, landing on my back with you straddling me. It doesn't stop me. My hands are instantly on your hips, grinding your panty-clad sex against my rock hard shaft, my upper body pressing up from the bed to capture the soft skin of your stomach and chest. Kisses pressing into your flesh. My breathing is heavy now, my actions insistent.

We cannot, it seems, stop.
 
This is getting complicated. You had said that to me. The best things can be. The best things are also worth the effort. Sure I could turn away from you, leave your room, and find my way back to my cold, empty, lonely hotel room, but I don’t want to. You have opened a door for me, a window that allows such a brilliant light to shine through illuminating so much that had been in the dark for so long. I don’t want to return to that darkness. I don’t want to close that door. Yes I could turn away from you and leave. It wouldn’t be easy, but I could do it. Staying with you, here, now, in your hotel room is what I want. It’s complicated, but it’s worth it. I can’t see that door closed. I don’t want to.

I remain silent. Our mouths are entwined in a dance, one we’ve done before. It’s one of passion and desire, much like the one our bodies are becoming engulfed in. Everything about being with you is different. Even the air in your hotel room smells different. Perhaps you I smell. It further intoxicates me. Landing on the bed, your body feels perfect beneath me, as if it’s meant for me. You’re there, aroused, in the same room with me, on the bed you rest your head on at night. This is you, your life, and you’veinvited me in. We’ve got hours. The party will drone on for hours, until the last of the guests are escorted out. Hours. Before we were rushed, time looming over our heads like some sort of gatekeeper to the pleasure we were experiencing. Now he was gone. The gates were wide open. Time was something we had.

I move, grinding into you a bit harder, letting you know that this is what I want. I have to pull back from the kiss. Your eyes. I have to see them. They’re so beautiful reflecting back up to me. Your hair frames your face perfectly. My fingertip traces down your nose and across your cheek. I’m studying you, burning your image into my mind. I want to see you even when you’re not around. My eyes look to your lips. So warm. So….my mind can’t even find the words to describe them. A smile breaks across my face as my eyes look back up to yours’. “Complicated,” I whisper, “but I like complicated. Complicated is good. I..want..complicated.”
 
'God' I groan, my hips undulating slightly on the bed as you ride me lightly. Its a soft, submissive, moan that escapes parched lips. Not submissive in the sense of a need to be dominated by whips and chains - that has never been my thing either receiving or giving - but submissive in the sense that I have given in. My face moves gently, head twisting from side to side softly, the sheets rustling below. Letting your soft finger tip trail along my nose and down to my cheek.

I know what you are doing. I can sense it. See it in your playful eyes. You are committing my face to memory, now that you can attach a name to it. You may as well be making an e-fit. Photographing me with your mind. Will your husband see my image reflected in those baby-blue eyes of yours? See me staring back at him? Part of me wants to grab your fingers, stop you, halt this physical, sensory, recording of my face. But it is too late. We are already hooked. Already caught up together in the net.

My hands glide up the soft sides of your body, skin smooth and silken beneath my large fingers, and my hands come to cup your breasts. I don't stop pushing up from the bed, gently, grinding our sexes together through the sheer cotton of your underwear. The only thing keeping us apart now. I smile. Stroking your chest with gentle movements through the bra. Not answering your question but letting our breathing combine in rhythm.

'Complicated comes with its own set of rules...' I say, a sly smile on my face. I push up from the bed, just my upper half, rising to meet your lips this time instead of pulling you down to me. One of my arms is around your waist, pulling you firmly against my lap, and our grinding has picked up a notch. Hot and heavy with a lewd friction all its own. I can feel the soft material of your panties shifting and twisting as my thick erection presses up against it with each push against you.

'Complicated means...' I pause, our eyes meeting again. We grind in stasis, pressed together, as my other hand unhooks your bra with clumsy slowness and lets the material fall away to reveal those perfect pert breasts. 'Well....one of two things' I breath, pushing the envelope here with you. 'Either it is something that goes beyond this hotel. Longer term. More planned. Across many hotel rooms like this.' I pause, kissing your nipples, before continuing. 'Or it means total connection whilst here, deeper and darker than either of us might have expected at the start, but with no strings to follow us from the hotel...'

I pause. I hadn't meant to be that cryptic, but there it is. I wonder if you catch my meaning? Or whether you will ask me to explain.
 
I’ve never hated fabric as much as I loathe my own panties at this moment. A simple, frail piece of material that is keeping me further apart from you. Your hands are free to roam my body, touching me, reaching up to find my breasts. More material. These pieces of clothing have never seemed to be as much of a hinderance as they are at this moment. Lace. They might as well have been made of brick. I could feel your body against mine, and yet we were still obstructed. I wanted you, no barriers, just you.

The heat between us threatens to burn the material away. It’s growing, along with my own desires. The room is becoming a melting pot. Our breathings, the way our bodies move, grinding, wanting to break through the barriers that separate us, the thudding music from below still pounding away, it all mixes together, drawing a lewd moan from my lips just before you lean up and take a kiss from my lips.

Your fingers release the bra that has been keeping my breasts apart from your body. One less piece of clothing. My parted lips release a gasp, feeling free and exposed to you. Good. I want to be exposed to you. I love how your body feels against my own. I love knowing your eyes are taking in the sight of my skin. Your words have their heat. I’m listening. Certain words seem to burn into my mind. ‘Beyond this hotel room. Longer term. Many hotel rooms.’ Those words were etched into my mind as I listened to your breathing and felt your erect member pressing against my sex. You kiss my nipples, and your actions illicit a gasp from me. I can feel my back straighten more, pushing my breasts further to you, as if I’m offering them to you. I am really. I want to offer everything I have to you. ‘Total connection. Deeper. Darker. No strings to follow us from the hotel.’

Your words, they leave an instant impression. I can’t help but softly smile as I look into your eyes. Those eyes draw me in. All of you draws me in. It’s like gravity, a force that I can’t fight, and honestly, I don’t want to. It’s strong and constant, this force between us. It’s undeniable. When we’re apart, I think about you, and now that I have you here, it’s like I can’t get enough of you. I can’t take in your scent enough. I can’t get close enough to you. There’s never enough contact between us. You’re addictive. This feeling….addictive. I tilt my head slightly, still locked into a gaze with you. “I always..always..want more. More of everything, even options. So please tell me what you mean by deeper and darker then we thought, and then we’ll see if option three is the one I want. Both.”
 
My hungry mouth takes in your stiff nipples, hot tongue lapping at their tightness as they jutt, erect and needy, into the warmth of my mouth. I let your moan of pleasure sink into my skin, mingling with my own. We are grinding together now, our bodies dancing in a rhythm all of our own, and I can feel the moisture of your arousal soaking through the thin band of fabric that keeps us apart. It is like your body is magnetic - I cannot pull away from you. Couldn't if I wanted to. I'm drawn to you by a charge more powerful than anything I have felt before.

This is oh so dangerous. So very dangerous. I look up, seeing you tilt your head down to meet my gaze, and know that you know it too. This is a drug that cannot be easily scoured from our system. There is no Betty Ford Clinic to get over an addiction like Kate.

I can't help but smile, half groaning in near-ecstasy, as you whisper your desire for more information. Of course you want to know more. Of course you would chose both. I would too. I would grab every second with you with both hands if I could. Hungry and desperate just like you.

'Well...' I say, softly, my hands caressing your sides as we continue to ride together on the covers of the bed. 'If we never see each other again after tonight, I want to have consumed you utterly. I want to push every limit and break every boundary. I want to experience everything'. I pause, thinking that I must just sound like a mess of cliches. 'Let me be clear - I don't want to hurt you. This isn't about whips and chains. But it is about saying yes. I want to agree to everything and anything you want to do tonight. And I want you to do the same for me. To put everything out there, however indulgent or dark as a desire, to experience everything in one night. If this is our last dance, let us do everything step together'.

I pause. One hand laces, gently, with your own. The other I place, palm flat, on your toned stomach. Feeling you breath in time with me. My eyes meet yours. 'We can talk reasons, but we shouldn't have to if we don't want to' I try to explain. 'I might ask you why you want me to do something to you, but it won't prevent me saying yes. I'll do anything you want, reason or not'. I pause stroking the skin of your abdomen. 'Like...I want to fuck you tonight without any sort of protection at all' I say, voicing the lurking desire deep in my heart and mind. I pause. Will you ask why? Will you care? What will you say? About any of it?
 
Yes. The word breathes from your mouth rather than being spoken, exciting me, sending sparks through to my most intimate places, places where I long to feel your touch. Being with you is as easy as breathing. It's becoming as much of a necessity as oxygen as well. My heart quickens as you continue. I'm aware of those dark corner in my own mind. The light could not touch them before. There was no one strong enough, willing to explore those areas, and now here you are, wanting to delve into places I never imagined I would never see. Your fingers literally lace with mine, a gesture of sorts of an extended hand, ready to take this journey with me. I gasp as the pure exhilaration takes hold. I feel as though I'm on a roller coaster, about to reach top, knowing I will see the bottom, and experience the rush as I race down the track towards what in reality is not the bottom but is instead a bend that will take me even further. That's you. You are my roller coaster, my ride, my pure adrenaline that will send me barreling down a track of delight.

You continue, my skin quivers at your touch. Your desires are clear. I know I can conceive a child. There are questions that should be asked, questions that I know are there. What would we tell our spouses? Would my husband think the baby was his? Would you tell your wife? Where would we go from there? Do you want a child? There it was. The last thought that raced through my mind stopped and lingered. I feel my teeth teasing with my bottom lip. It comes from my mouth before I can stop it. The question I want the answer for. "Do you want a child?" The words sounded....strange coming from me, and the reaction my body had to them was even more curious. I could feel how wet I was. The moisture having soaked through the undergarments I still wore. I wanted them off, but not just off. No. That would be too easy. Again they came, like an exhale. The words. "Rip them off. I'm so....tired of my panties. Rip them off. Then taste me Nicholas. I want to be in every fiber of your being, every pore of your body." I can't believe it. The words are pouring from me, eliciting even more reactions from me. I can feel my body grinding into yours' more. The need is so great. "Please Nicholas," I tell you, my voice soft. "I'll give you what you want, anything you want," I quickly add. "I won't say no."
 
The words tumble from your blood-red lips, washing over me, assailing my senses, intoxicating, laden with promise, heavy with lust. I am awash in your sea. 'Yes' I exhale, my eyes never meeting yours. My other hand laces with your free one and, for a moment, we sit there on the bed, hands entwined, our bodies rising and falling with heavy breathing. Almost in sync.

'Yes...I want a child. For you.' I almost look away, but then cannot. Cannot break the connection. 'There's a loneliness in you Kate. A sadness. You want to love something unconditionally, and be loved back in the same way. I can tell. I can sense it on you.' I close my eyes. I hope you don't think this is patronising. That I see you as some sort of pathetic abandoned wife, unable to elicit anything but sympathy. It isn't that. You just... 'You just have so much love to give' I say, not liking the cliche but letting it fill the tiny space between us anyway. 'This is something...' My eyes flick open, meeting yours again, spark of passion and anger there now. 'And fuck it' I hiss, voice deeper, 'your husband clearly isn't man enough to do it'. I suddenly lean in, a kiss so fierce I almost bite at you, tongue pressing insistently into your waiting mouth.

I only break away from you after a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. I grin. Relieved of my truth-telling, I can concentrate on your desires. My hands find your hips and, instead of lifting you off of me and lying you on the bed, I simply lift your hips off me a little and slide. I shimmy down the bed, holding you inches above me, until my head is between your thighs. Then I lower you down. My teeth find the sodden band of your panties and, with a sharp rip, they come away, the remnants tossed aside by a flick of one hand.

Your sex is dripping wet - a little splash of nectar hits my lips almost instantly and I lick it up. Savouring the taste of you. I begin gently, tracing the tender lips of your pink labia and stabbing playfully at the nub of your clitoris with the tip of my tongue. Within a minute or two though and pretence at restraint is gone, and I am eating you out with passionate desire.
 
They say the truth will set you free. For me, it did so much more. Your words were in my ears, my brain, and your kiss was on my lips, hungry, passionate, brimming with desire, threatening to burn me. What had started as a flame between us was now a raging inferno. The truth had been like gasoline, sending smoldering embers through me, reaching higher and higher. My skin began to sweat. This fire could consume me, and I wanted it to. There were no feelings of anger or embarrassment at what you had said. You were right. On so many levels, you were right. My husband wasn’t man enough to see what he had, and in his blindness, so much was going unattended to. My needs, my desires, and the most primal desire most women had, to have a child, to give birth to a child that was from the man I loved were not being met.

I had no time to respond to your words. You moved, leaving me reeling. A child. You wanted a child growing inside of me. There would be a life inside of me that was from both you and I. The thought was….freeing. Why? Because your honesty had unlocked the door that was holding back my own truth. I felt your mouth tasting, teasing my sex, and the door only further opened. Frantically my mind searched for the ability to speak. I wanted you to hear what I had to say. My truth would become your knowledge. What you did with it was up to you. Instead all I could muster were moans. My hands, my arms, tensed for a moment, until the urge to touch something was too much. I reached for my own breasts, pressing the perky globes together, feeling my fingertips pinching at my erect nipples. In one deep breath, I took in everything about this moment, every detail. As the music rose once more, thudding louder and louder, I exhaled, releasing a deep, loud groan. With a shuddering breath, I breath in once more and say, “I want your baby.” My teeth clench as my own desires take hold. “Fuck me tonight. Hard, furiously, pound me until you explode inside of me!” My words are getting louder, as if they are competing with the music. I tremble. The truth is pouring from me, much like my own arousal, coaxed from me and now released by you. It’s on the tip of my tongue, and I say it without reservation. “I love you.”
 
I hear you say it, those soft words of acquiescence, even though the soft skin of your thighs surrounded my ears. I breathe deep, sucking on your sex for a moment in my aroused state, before returning to pleasing you. I make not a sound, no acknowledgment that I have heard you, beyond redoubling my efforts in kissing and teasing your sex with my eager mouth. My hands have risen to your hips though, fingers fanning out almost proprietorially as you ride my face, and my cock aches. It is as stiff as an iron bar, jutting out behind you as I make love to you with my mouth, almost painful in its now persistent need for release.

Slowly, carefully, I extricate myself from under you. Keeping you in position, I slide up behind you, pressing my muscular chest against your back, and enter you in one fluid movement. My cock is swollen bigger than normal with its aching need, but it finds instant purchase in your wetness, and I groan out my entry into your ear. We're kneeling in bed, facing the bedhead and the wall, and I begin to rock my hips. Slow at first but steadily deeper and deeper, harder and harder, the soft sounds of coupling giving way to the harder sounds of something else. I reach out, my arms bracing against the wall, as I try to fulfill your request to fuck you hard and deep.

'I want to make you pregnant tonight' I groan into your ear, hot breath on your flesh, as I suck in the smell of you in increasingly laboured and ragged breaths. Its wild and insane, as I have no idea where you are in your cycle, if you have been taking the Pill, or anything like that. But its the desire we both crave, isn't it? The frank admission of need and lust, of hunger and craving, of the connection that will ultimately produce a child.

'I love you'

Lips on the back of your neck, kissing the soft skin and the soft loose curls of hair.

' I love you'

The feeling of my shaft sinking deep into you again.

'I love you'

My fingers curling around your hips as I continue to fuck you.

'I love you'

To hell with rationalisms now. This is the soft of loving making we they deserve.
 
You're hungry. It doesn't matter how long it's been since someone has done something like this with me before. It pales in comparison. It's as if I've never been kissed, touched, our had a man's warm mouth on my sex before until now. The build up is slow. That's fine. I know when it comes, it will be strong. You will have my juices dripping from your face. My hands leave my breasts but only for a moment. I want to feel your hands. So strong. So possessive. It's as if you're holding me where you want me. I wouldn't move for anything. Closer and closer you guide me. I want to cum. I want you to feel it, to taste it, to have it, my orgasm.

You move, and instantly I’m aching, wanting you back close to me. Logically, rationally I know you’re not leaving, that your touch is just a breath away, but that’s just too far. It’s taken me a lifetime to get here, to be in this moment, and I don’t want to wait another second. You must have read my mind, because your touch returns, warm and even more satisfying than before. I want to beg you not to leave, but you take things further. I feel you. All of you.

Your movements are slow and caring. It’s perfect. I can feel every movement, every inch of you, slowly taking what we both want. You take my breath away, in so many ways. I can literally hear the gasp that escapes my lips as you repeat your efforts. My hands splay on the wall before me, keeping me upright, against your body. I can feel my breathing, erratic, uninhibited. There’s a softness to our meeting that barely contains the heat that is growing. Those flames are growing more intense once more, and as your actions increase, I can feel them licking at my skin. You’re faster now, harder, pushing us both closer to the sweet release we want. I look up at your hands touch the wall. We’re so close, our hands are so close. I want to link fingers with you, but I’m incapable of moving my hand. You’re thrusts are powerful, so much so I fear I would tumble forward, and I like the feeling of your chest, your breath, against me. My gasps turn to sharp squeaks, as I’m sure I can’t take much more. I’m more fulfilled in this moment than ever before in my life. I close my eyes at your words. Tiny bumps raise on my arms at the feeling of your warm breath. I know the timing is right. We waited until there was no chance my cycle would interfere with this trip. I knew I was right in the prime time frame for such a thing to happen. There were no pills to worry about. If you released your seed within me, I knew the chances. “Yes,” I whisper to you. “I want..that..to,” I tell you, my words broken from my labored breathing and your body meeting mine. You say those three words, and I feel your kiss. Over and over you say them, touching me, bathing my body with your breath. My eyes close slowly as my tongue traces along my bottom lip. “Yes,” I tell you, knowing I’m closer, closer than I was even as your mouth made love to me. Already I can feel the tiny tremors flickering through me. It’s close, so close, and it when it happens, I know it will be like tumbling from a high ledge, uncontrollable and strong. I’m afraid, and yet I want it. “Yes,” I groan, my eyes closing a bit tighter. I feel your body behind me, the strength you possess so clear. “Yes.” My word a bit more strained. I can hear the gasping, knowing it’s coming from me. My fingers curl against the wall. I lean my head back against you. “A baby,” I whisper. “Cum..for..me,” I groan before crying out as I fall from the ledge. I know you can feel it, my body tightening around you, trying to milk your seed. It’s what I want. It’s what we both want. I couldn’t speak or move even if my life depended on it. My mouth is hung open as I drink in air, expelling sounds of pleasure. My muscle twitch as I continue to spasm along your shaft. I’ve never had an orgasm last so long or so strong. It’s you. It’s because of you. It’s always been you. “I..love..you,” I breath, finally able to find words, words that fit this moment perfectly.
 
Your whispers, your pleas, your groans and your cries. The way your body undulates, your shapely back curving and flexing, the swell of your hips rising and falling. It is all too much. I climax as if at your very command. Or maybe it simply is your command. Like I am your servant, your slave, shackled by my devotion to you. My carnal need for you. I cum in a hot rush, pushing deep into you as my fingers squeeze their hold on your hips tighter and tighter. I shudder, my lips and then my teeth finding your left shoulder. Your body is sheened with sweat, practically glistening in the golden light of the lamp, and I feel my senses become unglued. Completely swept up in you. I fill you with my seed, hot and desperate, before we both collapse onto the bed.

It takes a few moments of breathing, of slowly recovering our poise, collapsed in a heap on the bed together. We're still entwined, my slowly softening shaft still inside your hot sex. We are almost spooning, although the position is hardly a comfortable one, with you part-lying across me. Still, neither of us seems to have any energy left in that moment to move.

I stroke your hip. Tender. Loving. My lips find yours in the darkness of the room. I taste you, closing my eyes and savouring you on my lips. Like this is that last time we will be able to indulge in such intimacy.

'What now?' I ask, voice deep, laden with as much lust as emotion. I have promised you everything and anything tonight and I intend to deliver on that promise.
 
What now? As if I could move, as if I could crawl from the bed, slinking my way towards the shower to try and recover, as if I could search for my clothes to leave, as if I could push you back and climb atop you for more, you ask that question. I steal another quick yet tender kiss from your lips. The thought brushes my mind that perhaps I’m addicted. Another quick kiss. Yeah. I’m addicted. Softly I smile at you, knowing what I want to do. “I’d love..to head to the shower. The chance to wash your body, exploring you, getting to know every line, every wrinkle, every freckle if you have any.” A soft laugh. A deep breath. “I want to get to know all of you Nicholas. There’s more to you than sex. A soft, gentle night making love, a rough fuck that leaves this room a mess, either way there is so much more to you than that. I want,” I begin, shuffling about on the bed, finding my backside beneath me and resting my back against the headboard of the bed, “to actually take a moment and eat something with you and just talk. Where are you from? What’s your favorite color? What were you like growing up? What are your dreams? From the mundane to the things you only tell those you trust most, I want to hear it all. Whether I’m sipping champagne in a fancy restaurant or straight from the bottle here on this bed with you, it doesn’t matter. Time Nicholas. We have time tonight, and I want to spend it with you.” I lean forward, my intent clear. Your lips. Yeah. I’m addicted. This kiss is slower. Tongues dancing together. I could make love to you again..and again. There is time tonight.

I pull away from you, from our kiss. The need to breath, the need to sit back and take in the sight of you is just too great. I can’t ignore it. ‘You’re handsome,’ I think, the thought drawing a broad smile from my lips. “My legs are going to be shaky,” I tease, my smile growing. “But I do want to take that shower.” My legs move, and my feet find the floor. It feels odd beneath my feet, as if I haven’t walked on carpet for some time. Though there is no weight on my feet, I can already sense just how weak my legs actually will be. Standing, I am right, but I’m also able to move. One step. Another. Another. Stopping I reach out to you. “Join me? I’ve got so much more about you I want to get to know.”
 
I breathe in and out, slowly returning to the world of the living. I feel you move, more than see you, my vision still hazed by the peak of pleasure we have climbed together. One of my hands lazily catches you calf, not to stop you shifting to sit against the headboard but just to touch you. To maintain a connection, physical and intimate, as you move. My fingers caress your skin.

I roll onto my back, studying the stucco plaster of the ceiling. Without even needing to look, I know it is the identical ceiling in your room, in all the hundreds of rooms stretching out either side of us. Above and below. All around. Uniform. I close my eyes and suck in the heated air of the bedroom. Hot. Hotel rooms are always hotter than people’s homes. My face cracks with a grin. Well, maybe we’ve had a little hand in raising the temperature.

I’m thankful to be on my back when you begin to speak. It prevents you from seeing my eyes close for just a moment in….not annoyance. I don’t think I could be annoyed with you. But something. Some sort of slight, niggling, displeasure. We both know, on a practical level, that this can go nowhere beyond the walls of this hotel room. Beyond that uniform plaster ceiling. Whatever we said in the heat of passion…there is no future to this. You will vanish off, with your husband, and I will go back to my wife tomorrow. Now that the conference is over I’m certain my wife will want to leave as soon as possible. Bac k to the small business empire she is steadily building back home in Virginia.

Still, why not indulge ourselves? Why not pretend that everything you say – the champagne in hotel rooms or fancy restaurants. The time. The fiction that we have more time than this. Why not?

‘Of course’ I breath, as you reach out to me. Your pale form is unsteady, like a newborn colt, slightly bandy legged and weightless. One small hand reaches out, fingers curling towards me, and I stand. My own legs and leaden but the sight of that smile…those dark bangs framing that soft face. Kate. Always Kate. My arm takes your waist, lending my solid build to your slender curves and we make it to the shower together.

The water is a refreshing mixture of cool and warm together and, taking up a bottle of expensive shower lotion I begin to caress your body. Large hands tenderly exploring you from behind. My shaft nestles between the toned cheeks of your rear once more, as in the sauna, but this time I am not hard. My touches are more loving that lust-filled. ‘Maine’ I say softly, a warm smile in my voice, as my hands slide up your sides to cup those full breasts, slowly soothing your skin. ‘I grew up in seaside Maine, if you’d believe it, but now I live in Virginia….in Richmond’. I almost said ‘with my wife’ in that pause of a heartbeat just then. ‘Sometimes I miss the sea. The soft noise of the surf on the rocks. The colours. The smells. My hands are massaging your shoulders now, the lavender smell of the lotion filling the air of the shower. ‘Tell me something about you Kate…’
 
“Oak Island,” I tell you, allowing my voice to cut through the silence that was only interrupted by the shower cascading down both of our bodies. “I grew up there. Strange,” I begin, allowing my brow to furrow. “We both grew up..by the sea.” I could lean against you, feeling that connection further once more, but as the lather traces down the back of my legs and towards the drain, I begin to think about bathing you. Reaching for the bottle, I generously fill my cupped hand with the clear, fragrant solution. Turning around the water is a bit warmer as it makes contact with my skin. My back straightens slightly, not in an attempt to press my breasts against you, but in some misguided way trying to avoid the unavoidable warmth that is now covering me. A few quick, sharp breaths through parted lips later, I smile at you as I relax. “Hot. It’s a bit hotter….than I thought it would be. I wasn’t ready….for it. Then again,” I pause. “Are we ever?”

The water seems to wash away my words along with the smell coming from both of our bodies. It’s the smell of sex, of heat, of passion. Who knows for sure how long we have before the party ends and the guests file back towards their room? My assumption that we have time may have been grossly wrong. May have been. Only time will tell, the very thing we may or may not have a lot of. So instead of wasting anymore of it, I begin to wash your body. Every curve, every inch of skin is caressed by my fingers. “I use to love the sounds of the gulls and the waves in the morning. I’d leave my bedroom window open just so I could hear them. There aren’t many hotels or even restaurants on the island.” I can’t help but laugh a little. “It’s not really an island. It’s more of a slow paced area. There aren’t all the big, main attractions other tourist places like Myrtle Beach have. No. It’s a different feeling there. Things simply flow there, and it’s a feeling that flows through the people that live there too. Nobody is a hurry. There are things to do, but it all seems so much calmer there. Peaceful.” With a sigh I finish. “Easy.”

I nudge you to turn around so that I can wash your back. You will be feeling the warmth against your skin just as I had. Will it almost be too much for you as well? “I moved there. Biggest mistake of my life. My husband wanted.” Quickly I stop. My husband. How did he manage to find his way into our conversation, into our private time? I loathe him in this moment. Even when he’s not with me, he’s still….. “Anyway…..I moved. The city is too big, too fast, too..crowded..for me. I miss home often. The novelties they sell promoting the beach and how things are there are true. It calls to me..I think. My home. The beach. I wonder does it still smell the same?” A soft chuckle as my fingers trace down the muscles of your back stopping just shy of touching your backside.”When you leave, does your body..does your mind..forget everything about home? Do you still remember how the sand felt between your toes? Do you..miss the feeling of the ocean’s mist spraying on you? I do.” Shaking my head, I realize I’ve rambled, and my hands are massaging your muscles now. “Just because you’re away, do you think you forget everything eventually? Will you forget..me..Nicholas? When this hotel is behind us, when our normal day to day lives take hold once more, will you..forget..me?”
 
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