Sweet, Sexy Story
"Finding the Light Switch," Vanilla erotica by Lorraine Sears
Our clothes were strewn around the room, hanging from the fixtures or left in puddles of rumpled cloth on the floor, wherever we’d stepped out of them or thrown them. We hadn’t even explored the room, just burst in, in a fit of alcohol-fuelled passion, and started peeling each other naked.
It hadn’t lasted long, he’d been too excited. We’d been pushing each other’s buttons all morning until we could check-in. So once the pleasantries of a kiss and a grope were over, he just sort of erupted and that was that.
I read somewhere that when it comes to sex men are like light switches: they get turned on and off easily. Whereas women are more like an iron: we take our time to heat up and then need to cool down too. As I lay next to him listening to his light snores, I realized that naughty sex in a hotel was going to be no different than sex at home, except I had a different ceiling to stare at. What can I say? He was a man of few moves. I sighed quietly, considering that, perhaps, my man’s light hadn’t just been turned off, but maybe the bulb had blown as well.
The frustration was too much to bear, I’d been as turned on as he was when we arrived – and I still was. At home I’d have to lie there and calm myself down slowly so as not to wake him, but this wasn’t home. This was our naughty weekend away, and I had come prepared to be naughty, even if he hadn’t… It was time to get brave.
(Diane, Paris, 1993, by Dahmane. Prints available at ObsessionArt.com)
Slipping from beneath the sheets, I found my overnight bag and rummaged round in the hidden inside pocket. He didn’t know about my rabbit, or my rose, or the pile of erotic fiction I’d stashed in my wardrobe. Normally, when I needed some “me time,” I waited until he was out, or I’d take a shower. Too hell with it, I thought. It was time he realized I was a big girl and more than capable of looking after my needs when he couldn’t.
I lay back on the bed and enjoyed the sensation as the cool, soft rubber pressed against my hot, inner flesh. I turned it on to low to see if the hum would disturb him. When he didn’t react, I turned it up a little more. I felt the synthetic massages of the beaded core deep inside, while the rabbits ears tickled my sensitive bud. A moan escaped my lips before I could stop myself, my hips lifting involuntarily from the mattress. I risked another notch on the control, hungry for more stimulation.
I was in sensual heaven. All right, so it wasn’t the lover I’d intended, but I was past caring. At least it was sating my hunger. When you’re starving, you don’t care where the food comes from, as long as you get fed.
I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment. Behind my lids, great washes of red and gold played like fireworks streaking across dark slate. They were the colors of my sex. My body was starting to feel tight as it wound up for my release. My heels dug into the mattress as I arched up off the bed, and another wanton moan slipped from my throat as I pushed the rabbit, taking all it had to give me.
“Babe?”
The soft, questioning voice from beside me brought me back to earth like a body slam. I collapsed on the bed and spun sideways turning off the rabbit and locking my knees together all in one panicked move. So much for bravery, I thought bitterly.
My frustration was now so great it threatened to boil into anger. Why did he have to wake up? First, he abandons my needs; then, he ruins my orgasm. My body was screaming for release, it pulsed through me. As I lay there feeing like a petulant child waiting to be patronized, waiting for the inevitable “What are you doing?” the feeling of anger started to ebb. My mind turned over numerous possible responses to what he would ask.
When a tentative hand was placed on my hip I nearly jumped out of my skin. Pulling me forcibly until I was laying on my back, he looked down at me warily for a few second before speaking. “Why did you stop?”
Not the expected question at all, I bit my bottom lip hard before speaking. “Because you woke up.”
“Do you do that a lot?”
Wetting my lips I shrugged awkwardly. “Sometimes… sometimes I need to,” I blurted, cringing inwardly. Please don’t ask me why, I thought.
“Do you like it?” His finger had begun to trace little patterns on my hip.
“Yeah. It’s not as good as with you, but it gets me off and that always feels good.” I smiled apologetically.
“Show me?” His hand drifted down my thigh, gently pulling my legs apart.
My eyes were locked on his face trying to read his expression while he explored what had got me so excited. I felt him grip the control as he pulled it a little way out for a better look.
“Can I turn it on again?” He didn’t look at me when he asked; his gaze was fixed on the rabbit.
Suddenly, my mouth was dry. “Yeah,” I managed to croak.
He was like a whole new man. And in his hands, the rabbit became a new animal entirely. He used it like a detached cock, thrusting and twisting; altering the speed to tease me and draw out the sounds of my pleasure. He seemed to learn quickly, observing from the twitchy ears. Soon, I was seeing red and gold everywhere. He wasn’t sleepy anymore and I wasn’t frustrated. In fact, by the time he was done with using the rabbit on me all I wanted to do was roll over and sleep. But he had other plans.
With his tank refuelled and raring to go, he was pawing at me like a dog with a wrapped steak. Well, I know better than to let a good thing pass me by, but this time he was going to be the one looking at the ceiling.
Originally published June 2011