Always and Never

"Oh my god," she moaned. "This is absolutely amazing. What's in it?" she turned to him, and found his expression rather peculiar. He was staring at her, his nebulously green and brown eyes glowing with a fire she immediately recognized as lust.

It made her uncomfortable, but mostly it made her long for him to act on what he wanted. Was it so odd, to be so taken with a stranger? Maybe so, but she couldn't deny the strong vibes between them. She was drawn to that mysteriously sinister demeanor. It promised pleasure, if she was only too willing to give in.

"Whiskey," he said, the word rolling off his tongue in a lush purr. "It's mixed with warm apple cider and there's a dash of cinnamon schnapps as well."

"It's positively sinful," she said, choosing her words purposefully.

"You think so?" He began to move closer to her.

Her heart was picking up speed now, gaining as the space between them grew smaller and smaller.

"I do."

"Do I intrigue you?" he whispered.

"You do."

He smiled as he brought his lips to hers; they were a breath apart and she was finding it hard for her brain to form complete sentences with him and that damn intoxicating scent so near.

"You're gorgeous. Simply beautiful." He moved to press his lips against hers, but she rested her hands lightly against his chest.

"Don't," she whispered.

He continued to move as if he didn't hear her.

Instead, his lips rested on her collarbone, sucking the soft skin into his mouth. She felt the breath being knocked out of her. While she was fully aware they were in a very public place, she couldn't help sighing into his touch, the stubble from his beard scratching gently against her skin.

"Mmm, you're so soft," he cooed. "Like the finest chocolate silk. I'm going to enjoy tasting you in other places." His tone was firm, as if he already knew she was going to give in to him.

"We don't even know each other," she managed to gasp out.

He lifted his head from her neck, his gaze soft and yet she could see the edge in his eyes. It was then she imagined he wasn't the type of man who heard no often. "Do you want me to stop?"

She stared at him. Part of her was truly unnerved; he was bold, kind of cocky, and almost bordered on asshole. But tell that to her panties. Her pussy was practically creaming a river at the thought of his lips and other naughty bits caressing her body.

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. "No," she whispered.

He smiled, satisfied with her answer. "Good girl. Now let's get out of here. We've got a long night ahead of us."

********

Closing the phone, she took the keys out of the ignition and ambled out the car. Her steps were slow and sure, giving off false confidence. She walked up to the door of Room 8 of the Sunshine Motel. It was their normal room. She tapped her forefinger on the door twice before stepping inside.

It wasn't the Waldorf, but it was nice enough. Deep blue walls accented with sea shells and other beach paraphernalia gave a tropical feel. There was a king size bed in the middle of the room, a sea blue bedspread with bright yellow fleur de lis covering the top. The sound of the ocean crashing against the shore could be heard from the patio door towards the back of the room.

She found him sitting next to the bed, snug in an oversized royal blue armchair. His fifteen hundred dollar Etro navy pinstripe suit jacket was folded neatly on top of a small table. His eyes, that crisp pond green color watched her intently.

The murky color still had the power to make her hot and uneasy at the same time. He looked damned fine; he always did. He was a label whore, dressing the part of a trust fund baby left in charge of daddy's company and the family fortune.

The lavender Nautica dress shirt complemented the sage colored Marc Jacobs tie. He was certainly the splash of color in the workplace, knowing his knack of dressing like a runway model definitely increased his popularity with the ladies in the office.

Just as she suspected, his button was undone. She could see his strong hand moving inside of his pants and her mouth watered. It was unexplainable, the perverse thrill she got from watching him jerk off.

A lock of reddish-brown hair fell into his eyes as he bit his lip in pleasure. She watched him, almost in struggle as he removed his hand from his cock and stared at her.

"Take your hair down," he growled softly.

She shivered, her body responding to the forcefulness in his voice. It always made her feel sexy and meek at the same time. A thin brown hand reached up, loosening the tortoise shell clip holding her slightly messy bun in place. Her raven locks slid softly down her back, the big curls resting just on the tops of her shoulders.

Once again, a shiver fled down her spine. His stare was intense, the green of his eyes swallowing in the sight of her. When he closed his eyes, she could hear the audible intake of breath. He could smell the fresh rain scent of her shampoo. She knew it was his favorite; it reminded him of childhood summers spent at his grandparents' lake house.

It was amazing; she hoarded the smallest details about him, things he would reveal after a grueling session where he would fuck her on all fours, or when he would treasure her body, making slow and sweet love to her for hours until she was spent and tears of unabashed happiness would fall from her eyes. He would kiss her then, telling her how beautiful she was, how special she made him feel.

Those were the times when things were the best, when it seemed like for the briefest of moments, he was truly hers.

"Come closer," he whispered.

Her feet moved automatically, inching ever closer to him. His hands were perched on the arm of the chair, fingers gripping the material. His smile was slow and sensual. "You look great. Is that a new skirt?"

A small smile crept along her plush lips. The skirt wasn't new, and he knew that. It was another favorite of his, a slate grey pencil number that tightly cinched at her ribcage and highlighted the curve of her slender hips, gracefully long legs, and the generous swell of her derriere. She paired it with a red silk short sleeved blouse, and bright red Louboutin pumps, the ones with the five inch heels. He loved seeing her in red, said it brought out the brick tones in her earthen colored skin.

"Come here, gorgeous" he cooed as he patted his lap. She obliged, walking over and settling herself against him. Her head swam as her body brushed against his hardness. She could feel the warmth radiating off his chiseled physique; she could smell his Lacoste cologne, the heady combination of musk, sandalwood, and a pinch of lemon made her pussy throb in anticipation.

His hand brushed lightly against her spine and she closed her eyes in a slow shudder. She knew he was watching her. He loved to watch the faces she made as he teased her body. Her back arched, offering her ample cleavage to him. It was a sign of submission, a contract of control and they both knew it. She was his to command.

A pair of strong hands gripped her hips, stilling their movement. She looked down in surprise; she hadn't realized her hips were grinding gently into his length. Raising her eyes to meet his, she gave him a meek smile, batting her long eyelashes. He could never resist when she did that.

He always remarked how beautiful her eyelashes were. It was such a weird compliment, like saying someone had a cute kneecap; but she gleaned the kind words all the same, storing it in that secret place she left open just for him, in the smallest space of her heart.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?" he drawled. "I watched you sit in the car for about twenty minutes. I was wondering what in the world could be going through that pretty little head of yours?"

Her heart fluttered wildly, the normal pace whenever she heard his voice. She could feel the vibrations, his words rumbling in his chest before they tumbled from his soft lips. Though he tried to mask it in his every day work musings, she could still hear the Boston accent; it seemed to be more pronounced whenever he talked to her.

The lazy drawl of his R's and other odd vowels and consonants made her pussy cream.

"What were you doing in the car, gorgeous?" He asked. She could hear the playful tone in his voice. It was genial and yet slightly dangerous.

He was up to something. With one hand still wrapped around her waist, he began to undo the tiny red buttons on her shirt. As his hand reached inside, he squeezed her already hardened nipples through the fabric of the red lace and silk bra she was wearing.

A soft cry, mingled with pleasure and pain fell from her lips as she gripped his shoulder. It took all of her wills not to rock her pussy against his cock. Instead she was forced to whimper her desire. She smiled at the wicked satisfaction in his eyes. He was pleased with himself.

"Does my girl like it when I play with her nipples?" He tweaked the little brown bud once more, increasing the pressure slightly.

She moaned once again, her breath coming in short, hot pants of air. Her back arched, and she silently begged for him to take off her bra and pay proper attention to her aching need.

"I believe I asked you a question. If you don't want to answer, I could just take my hand away."

He began to move his fingers from her nipples when she stopped him.

"No, don't. I like it." The sentence came out in a soft whisper.

He smiled, that electric grin that sent tiny pinpricks of desire shooting through her body.

"There's my good girl. Did you miss me, gorgeous?"

Their normal banter; it was how every encounter started off. She thought she would tire of it, the same question, but she never did. She always missed him when he was away. She nodded. "I did. You know I did."

"I know. I just like to hear you say it."

"Did you miss me?"

He was silent for a moment, and she was a little afraid she had killed the mood. This was a new question. Her heart fluttered, anticipating his reaction to the script change. But when he looked up at her, with those pretty cool orbs, she knew things were okay.

"More than you know, gorgeous. More than you know."

Her heart resumed its normal thumpa-thumpa pace whenever he was near as she stored his words away for a later time.

She brought her lips to his. He tasted divine and she could still smell the Lacoste. She smiled when she heard him moan. She was wearing another one of his favorites, cranberry-flavored gloss.

She nipped his bottom lip before sucking into her mouth. His tongue lapped at hers gently and she couldn't help but squirm, rocking her ass against his hardness.

His hand landed sharply on the rounded cheek of her ass and a throaty moan rumbled into his mouth. He took it as his own, grabbing her neck and tilting it back gently as his lips and tongue continue to assault her senses.

She could barely breathe, but she didn't care. Her lips were quivering from his touch and she was feening for more of him. When she licked the roof of his mouth, she felt his cock twitch and his grip on her neck tightened.

The kiss was hungry and she knew that today would not be a day for slow love making. He was horny and stressed. Work must be killing him. The home life must be in shambles. No matter. He was here now.

"I need to feel your lips on my cock," he groaned.

Kissing him hard one last time she rose from the chair and dropped gracefully to her knees. She couldn't help the tremor of adrenaline that flowed through her bloodstream. Giving him head was a pleasurable experience for her as well. He lifted up his hips, sliding his designer suit pants down past his knees and around his ankles, along with his black silk boxer briefs.

Her hungry eyes took in the sight of his cock. The first time she saw it, she nearly balked at the thought of having it inside her. He was thick and long; her fingers just barely gripped him all the way around and sometimes she had to really work to get him completely into her mouth. But she was always up for the challenge. He was completely shaven and she loved the feel of his warm shaft and smooth sac when she took him into her mouth.

He always told her she was the best he'd ever had when it came to oral. Another unusual compliment to store away for a later day.

Her pink tongue snaked out, flicking the top of his reddish head. She smiled at his movement. She loved making him squirm. When she slid her mouth down lower, her lips stretching wide to cover his shaft, his head tipped back in pleasure.

"Fuck," he breathed. "I fucking needed this." Reaching down, he caressed her cheek lovingly. She smiled to herself. Holding him in her mouth, it was one of those times she was in complete control. She would determine how and when he would come, and even if he would at all. The thought made her positively gleeful. Sliding his cock from her mouth, she glanced up at him, an impish gleam in her honey-and-hazel hued eyes.

She licked him slowly, her tongue grazing over every bumpy vein; she could feel his cock tremble, could hear his breath catch in his throat as he bit down to keep from moaning.

His hand wove into her soft hair, gripping her tresses firmly. She continued to tease him, dragging her tongue long and slow over his cock. She knew he wanted her to take him back into her mouth fully but she didn't. She wanted to make him beg for it. It was his punishment and she daresay he didn't deserve it.

Licking the underside of his dick, she tongued the spongy tip, taking special care with the really sensitive spot underneath she knew drove him crazy. Sure enough, his cock twitched in her hands and she felt and heard the low growl of frenzied pleasure that ensued. "Gorgeous, don't tease me," he husked. "I can't promise I'll be gentle when it's my turn."

She complied, sliding him fully back into her waiting mouth. His groan was loud as his hips thrust involuntarily, forcing more of his cock into her mouth. She took it all, her wet cavern sucking him greedily as her head began to bob. There was a bit of hesitation and a bit of gagging, but she took it like a champ. She could feel him shudder beneath her touch, and when she heard the whispered slip of her name her heart gave a strong lurch.

"Stop," he moaned as he tried to pull her away. "I need to be inside you."

There was a slight pout of disappointment on her pretty face as she reluctantly stood up. He chuckled. "Don't look so sad, baby." His voice was sugary sweet and laced with pure devilment. His long finger tapped his chin methodically, his green eyes watching her intently. "Clothes off, gorgeous," he said, the quiet forcefulness making her tremble with anticipation. "Let me see that beautiful body of yours."

Her fingers undid the rest of the buttons on her shirt before sliding the silky material down her shoulders and tossing it onto the medium sized wood table. Her eyes never left his as he watched the movements her hand made, his gaze sharp and penetrating.

When she first met him, that gaze used to unnerve her; he was constantly watching, his quiet demeanor made her slightly uncomfortable. Now, it was one of the qualities she couldn't get enough of. His eyes spoke volumes and she found herself bending to his whim, even when he hadn't uttered a single word.

Her hand moved to her right, unzipping the side zipper of her pencil skirt. As she started to wiggle out of the skirt, she heard his throat clear.

"Turn around and spread for me, honey pie."

She turned on her heels, wiggling once more as she slid the skirt down her slender hips. She bent over slightly as she pushed the skirt down farther, over her ass, down her legs, and finally to her ankles. Her legs were spread a few inches apart and she knew he had a perfect view of her panty-free pussy, glistening from arousal.

The deep growl was audible and she smiled. Standing upright, she faced him as she unhooked her bra. Her caramel breasts bounced free, heavy with need and the stiff brown peaks growing harder in the slightly cool air of the hotel room.

She raised a dark eyebrow in his direction. "Shoes on?" she drawled.

His grin was slow and steady. "You know it, gorgeous." He rubbed his cock through his pants.

"Now show me what I've been missing."

She walked over to the bed, crawling on all fours before settling in the middle. Lifting her knees, she spread her legs wide and rested back on her elbows, her eyes never leaving his. His chest rose and fell swiftly, and she heard his ragged breathing as his eyes seemed to glow. "Show me," he demanded, the stern words coming out in a quiet tone that made her tremble.

Using her thumb and forefinger, she parted the slick folds of her inner womanhood, showing him the myriad of chocolate melting into the deep pink of her tight little channel.

His lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Fingers in, gorgeous" he cooed.

She complied, sliding her middle finger slowly inside. Her head tipped back in pleasure and she let out a low moan. When she slipped another digit in her hips rocked forward, plunging her fingers deeper and making her cry out. Knowing he was watching and listening to her pleasure herself always made it more enjoyable.

"Do you enjoy touching yourself," he whispered.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

She spread her legs wider as her fingers moved a steady rhythm, in and out.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" his voice suddenly become low and she could hear the slight growl threatening to break free.

"Yes I do," she replied, her voice stronger and a little louder. She looked at him, the meek smile on her face, showing her submission.

"Good girl." was his quiet response. "Speak a little louder, gorgeous. We're past the point of shyness."

Her upper body rested on the bed as her other hand went to cup her breast. Slim brown fingers brushed the swollen bud and she gasped at the tiny shocks that shot through her. Her back arched as her fingers moved through her wet arousal, strumming her clit and delving deeper into her hot pussy. She started to tremble, feeling the beginnings of one hell of an orgasm when she heard him speak.

"Not yet, gorgeous."

She let out an angry snort of frustration. "Please," she whispered. Her body continued to shake, angrily protesting the lack of sweet release. She needed to come. She sat up on her elbow again and watched him. He looked positively pleased with himself. His hands were in a steeple under his chin, his elbows resting on the armrests of the chair, watching her as one might view the evening news.

He was torturing her and they both knew it. It was punishment, she supposed. Punishment for keeping him waiting while she zoned out in her car. "Please," she whispered once more as her hips began to rock against her fingers. Her body wasn't giving up the fight.

"Does my gorgeous girl want to come?" he asked simply.

"Yes," she practically bleated. There was still a slight trace of irritation. He was clearly asking the stupid questions.

"Then you'll have to ask."

She sighed. A part of her was screaming "Fuck this shit, you're a grown ass woman". That part was clearly in the minority. Because she was going to give in. She always did.

"Please," she said shakily, the orgasm right on the cusp of exploding from her body. "Can I please come?"

He smiled spread slowly on his face as his murky eyes shone. "By all means baby. Let me hear you sing."

She moaned, her body trembling as ripples of pleasure coursed through her skin. Her breath was coming out in short, gasping pants, little whimpers mixed in. Her pussy sucked her fingers in, squeezing them tight as she bucked her pelvis against the intense orgasm.

"Quiet," he said and she complied, lowering her voice to a low hum. Her hips still moved, fingers still thrusting inside as she tried to calm the pounding in her chest. "Good girl."