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“Does it include my name?”
“Then post it.”
I found myself wrapped up in thoughts of our encounter for days after it occurred. As I laid in bed at night, I’d dwelled on the memories.
His hand on my face, my neck. Squeezing, just for a moment, then letting go. The way he ripped open my blouse. Hoisted up my skirt. The rough brick of the alley wall against my ass. The smile on his face when he felt my wetness. How I looked away, but then his scented fingers lifted my chin up, my eyes back on his.
“Say you want it. I, obviously, already know you do.” He touched his slick fingers to the tip of my nose. “But say it anyway, because you and I know you want that, too.” He pressed his fingertips against my lips. “The writer and her words. How eloquent you can be when it’s a screen or a page in a notebook. But I wonder, is it all practice, all pretty words and phrases memorized long ago? Or are those words yours? From here.” His hand rested over my chest, warming my heart. “And here.” His fingers slipped inside me. I gasped. “Words, my sweet, or there will be no satisfaction for either of us tonight.”
He played me masterfully, making it hard for me to think, let alone speak, but the fire in his eyes made me find my voice.
“I am a dirty thing who desires what humiliation you wish to grant me. The joy of my being lies in others amusement at my trials. Use me as you wish, however you wish, and I will thank you for it.”
His slap stung, smearing my scent across more of skin. His fingers pushed their way into my mouth. I lapped at the taste of me. Used my tongue to dance against his fingers. I sucked and swallowed as he smiled.
“So you are more than words. I, however, for tonight, am not.”
He pulled away from me. Stepped back. My breathing was labored. My body, hot and ready. I could see the bulge in his pants. Had felt it against me not seconds before. Yet he stepped back until he leaned against the opposite brick wall.
The ache in me was great. Ever part of me hummed for want of him. I saw nothing else to do but be true to my desires.
I dropped down to my knees. The motion was smooth, though the rough ground was not forgiving.
“Please.” My eyes were downcast. My arms at my sides.
“You can do better than that.”
My face shot up. His arrogance was infuriating, yet it made me want him more.
“I beg of you, free me from this torment. My body yearns for your touch, not in sweetness but in lust, in hot blooded raunch. Fuck me against this wall so hard you bruise my ass. Make me cum so hard I scream. Slam your cock into my mouth. I will gag and take you, for all I want tonight is to be used by you til my body is spent and I can yield no more.”
His hands were on me in a moment. Again his fingers encircled my neck. His other hand gripped my hand. Tilted my head up. His lips hovered a breath away from mine.
“Not tonight. But another night. You are, by far, the hardest temptation I have ever had to endure. Neither of us will find that pleasure we both ache for this evening, but know we will have it, and soon.”
His hands released me. He took off his suit coat. Wrapped it around me. He stepped back again, but stayed close.
“Can you close your shirt?”
It was such an odd question, giving the last few moments, but it was practical. The illusion we had been under was broken. I looked at my attire. Pulled my skirt down. Saw that the buttons from my shirt were gone.
A quick glance of the ground confirmed they were around me. I quickly found and picked up the half dozen pieces. Put them in the jacket pocket. Closed his buttons to cover myself.
I looked up at him. Saw his outstretched hand and his now softer eyes. I accepted his aid. Stood. Walked with him back down the alley.
He hailed me a cab. Gave me fare for the ride.
“Please.” It was my one last desperate plea.
“Soon,” he said as he kissed my forehead and eased me into the taxi.
I slept in nothing but his jacket that night, and the next.
Going back to work seemed wrong. To have my days be so mundane again when this encounter had so changed me.
I saw him a week later, passing in the hall. It was late afternoon. I’d gone for coffee to keep awake. He had the look of just getting out of a meeting. He passed by me without a glance in my direction.
I stayed late that night, trying to finish up a project, but my thoughts spun around him. When I finally gave up for the evening, I walked out to the cool beginnings of autumn. He was sitting on a nearby bench. He stood when he saw me.
I walked toward him, hopeful.
“Not tonight,” he said. I know my face changed. “How are you?”
“That’s to be expected. But also?”
“I. I can’t stop thinking about.”
“I want to write about it.”
“I have a blog.”
“You’ve read it?”
“Does anyone else?”
He turned and walked away.
I saw him again a week later, the same as before, new project started this time for me.
“Have you written the post?”
“But nothing new has appeared on your page.”
“Don’t you want to read it first?”
“Does it include my name?”
“Then post it.”
“Post it tonight.”
He turned and walked away. My heart sunk again.
But then he stopped, turned. “Tomorrow.” I shuddered. He turned and walked away.
Categorised as: Erotica
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