– I’m horny and you’re hot. I’d love a quickie in your hotel room after this class session, if you’re interested…
– I’m down for that.
He was kind enough to offer me the extra bed in his hotel room Saturday night. I accepted, knowing his gesture would save me nearly two hours of driving Sunday morning.
Still, other thoughts loomed in the back of my mind.
He was attractive. I’d known of him, but only just met him that day. I was pleased to learn his online persona was not a facade; I liked him from the start.
As we got ready for bed, previously laughing and talking about a wide range of nothing important, exhaustion soon hit my bones. I was fast asleep.
I woke up early, too early, Sunday morning. I could’ve slept another hour or more, but my body would not allow it.
Worse still, there was a stirring in my loins. I could hear his breathing, could make out the shape of his body through the dim light in our room. I rolled over, tried to look away, tried to not think about the yearning growing inside me.
Wake up. Please, wake up. God, I want you to fuck me.
He continued his slumber.
My crotch grew warm. I flipped over, laying on my belly, and began squeezing my legs together. I tilted my hips towards the bed. I gripped my sheets, hoping I could somehow do what I’d never accomplished before. History was a true predictor; even with my efforts, having no sex toys in my possession proved too difficult a hurdle to surpass. I could not cum.
I pulled out my phone as a distraction. I typed out my fantasy, what I wished he’d do to me. It helped a little. I listened to my music, tried to soothe my longing.
I wanted nothing more than to not notice the beautiful body in the bed next to mine. The lips I wanted against my lips. The hands I wanted caressing my skin. The breath I wanted on my neck. The body I wanted all over me.
My alarm sounded. He stirred. I softly coaxed him to snooze. I’d set my alarm early, wanting to bathe before classes; he’d showered the night before. He rolled over, and soon I heard his breathing again.
I disrobed, piling my clothes by the foot of my bed. I peeked over; he was turned away.
The heat of the shower was comforting, a warm waterfall against my tired frame. Clean and awake, I pulled out the few toilettries I’d thought to bring, just in case, the day before. I sat on my bed naked, turned away from him. He faced me now, but still he slept.
As I gently eased moisturizer over my skin, I imagined him glimpsing my body. Imagined each caress I gave myself as a path for his eyes to follow. Imagined his desire growing as mine had. The throbbing in my pussy lingered.
My skin smoothe and soft, I stood and retrieved my clothes from the closet. It was my stretch gray dress with the mesh cutouts. I’d tossed it into my bag, intending to wear it the previous evening. Now it would be my Sunday attire. As I secured my bra behind my back, the alarm on his watch sounded.
He awoke. And saw me naked, himself also sans-clothing. There was no fanfare; he simply got ready for his day.
We ate breakfast at a casual dining place two blocks away, then parted for our desired classes.
Yet all I could think about, as I feverishly Tweeted during my first class, was being near him, against him. The wanting in my body never subsided, never decreased.
So, as the second class was about to start, I decided to be bold.
I sent him a text message…
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