Bittersweet Affair Erotica
"Your Directions," a Dirty Martini sex story by Marlena R. Petals
I am in a hotel room in Reno, Nevada. The room is non -smoking and on the 17th floor. A few moments ago I stood with my naked body against the window to see the neon lights blinking below and down the street. It is still chilly here. My nipples pressed up against the window, cold and alert. I have messaged you. I have left a card key for you at the front desk. Room 2217. You are not late yet. I have time to light candles on either side of the bed. I had time for a long hot bath and clean, shaven legs and a manicured cunt. I have been freshly pedicured and have not eaten. There is a basket on the table with bread, pomegranates, wine, chocolate. I can smell it but not touch, not eat, nor drink. I have put on music that is both ambient and gothic. The way I like to fuck. I have left rope in the chair closest to the TV. On top of my suitcase is a selection of implements to use on me.
I have wondered how I should be when you arrive, when I hear the sliding of card against the lock. I have decided on a long black negligee that is sheer around my double D breasts and curves in on my waist and out at my hips to the floor. I imagine myself to be your film noir goddess. The room falling into black and white. I decide to don my black velvet eye mask, pull back the sheets, to lay face down into the white crisp pillow, with my hands behind my back, and my ass in the air. I stay this way perfectly still for half an hour waiting your arrival. I moan and imagine how much better it would be if my hands were tied . You have not seen me in 10 years. The last time you saw me was at our high school reunion. That was three years ago. We’ve chatted online many times when you are pulling three day shifts at the firehouse. I think about you rushing into flames to save people. I think of my little hands in your big hands. You are engaged to a woman you claim does not spend enough time with your body. I am married and have told you I haven’t been eaten out in a long time.
Blinded Reflection by Igor Vasiliadis
I finally hear the click of the door and you are inside the room. I hear you put down your bags and start to talk for a minute thinking perhaps that I’m sitting in a corner reading a book. Then I hear a single word.
“Oh.”
You have seen me.
I hear your shoes come off. I hear water running in the sink. I hear your pants unzip and I feel a tingling in my clit and a trickle of excitement leak out of me. I’ve never seen or had your cock before, but I’ve thought about it since we were sixteen. I hear you approach the king size bed and feel the weight of your knees pushing onto the bed. I feel my black negligee begin to lift off my feet and calves, then thighs as you push it back to expose my ass. I feel your warm lips and your big calloused hands as they kneed and kiss my ass cheeks; as they massage my lower back and dart kisses all over my ass. You stand on your knees and brush your hard cock against my leg to remind me what will come.
I think of the burning buildings and you coming into rescue me. And then you do it. You start licking me. I can feel your tongue darting in and out of me, making me so wet , I ache. I can think of nothing except that I want you in me, but I remain silent. You bring your cock up to my pussy and just bring it to the opening and then you get back on your hands and knees and lick me. I can feel myself dripping. I go to move my hands to pinch at my own nipples but you grab my hands and hold them to my lower back while you lick. I can feel my ass rise and gyrate. I think I can’t take it anymore. I need your cock in me. Now.
I start to lift my head up from the pillow to tell you this when you let go of my clenched hands and grab onto my hips with both hands. It’s at that moment that you thrust your cock in me--the moment where I’ve already started to explode into orgasm. You can tell that I’ve already started to come and you don’t let up. You’ve decided I need to come twice. You decide our rhythm by the movement of my ass. You pull on my hips more. I feel like your cock is reaching two feet inside me. You reach around to my chest and hold onto each breast in each hand. And you do it. You get me to come twice. With one final thrust, you come as well.
I remain there for a moment, perfectly still, feeling the air against my sopping wet cunt and ass. I can hear you lay on your back and let out a long spent, relieved sigh.
“Nice to see you,” I say, taking off my mask and sitting up on my knees, folding the black negligee against my skin so that only my shoulders and nipples are showing, my long hair and the fabric covering everything else.. There he is, my unrequited high school charmer, just requited.
“Oh man,” he says, “Thirteen years I’ve waited.” I look down at the filled condom. It indeed looks like 13 years. I get up and walk over to the fruit, bread and wine and pour two glasses and peel back a pomegranate. I drink down my glass. Pomegranates, you know, are the original forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. I pull out a few seeds. They feel juicy and plump. I walk back to the bed with your glass and the seeds. You look a little confused. I climb on top of you and use the seed and it’s juice to write a thin line of text on your belly and chest.
'Fuck me, again,' it says. You look down at your chest, half-frightened, half -intrigued. I offer you a glass of wine and you take it. You drink your wine. I lick what I have written off your chest and belly, Your cock begins to harden again. I sit up and reach between your legs and take your balls in my hand. You have said they do not get enough attention and that your cock rarely sees the inside of a mouth. I will give it this attention for the next hour or so until you moan and pass out besides me.
When you are sleeping, I will get up and shower. My hair will be wild from fucking, twice as large and curly as it usually is. I will dress and think about staying. I will walk over to the window and feel my nipples hard as I dress. I will be ravenous and drink water and eat a good deal of the bread and wish I’d have brought butter. I will blow out the candles on either side of the bed and think about you fighting fires in a dead sleep between two flames. I will stand by the bed and watch you sleep and think about the need to stop at the grocery store when I get off my plane, which is leaving in three hours.
I will turn to leave and you will grab my hand and pull me down to the bed. You will pull me gently down to your face by my neck until our lips are only an inch apart. You will whisper in my ear that I should stay and take a later flight. You will remind me that the rope has not yet been used. You will kiss me for the first time in 13 years and I will kiss you back again and again–– and take the later flight home.
~
Copyright November 2011, Marlena R. Petals.
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.