Hannah's Secret

She came over to me without a word, looking at my eyes and had that subtle sensual smile on her lips. She put her arms around my neck, pressing her tits against my chest and looked at me. "You were wonderful tonight. I loved your reading."

"Thank you for coming, I was hoping you would."

"My boyfriend had a meeting tonight. I told him I was going to the library to a poetry reading and that I was meeting a friend later and not to wait up for me." She paused. "I never lie," she added, smiling at me.

"And you don't cheat."

"Let's not talk about that," she said.

"Okay, my dear, we're in our own world now, our own reality."

"Right, here we live our secret lives, our fantasies, as if nothing else exists." She started unbuttoning my jeans, her eyes looking into mine while I started unbuttoning my shirt.

"You look sexy," I said. "I want to turn you on," she said, pulling my zipper down.

"You already have," I said.

"Hmmm, let me see," she said, pulling my jeans open and my hard cock sprung out. "Oh, my, did I do that?"

"Yes," I said, looking into her widening eyes.

"Oh, am I naughty?"

"You are very naughty."

"Oh and are you going to punish me for being naughty?" she asked. "I promise I'll be good."

"It's too late, you've already been naughty and you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

"No, tell me. Tell me what happens to naughty girls," she said, looking into my eyes, biting her lower lip then back at my hard cock sticking straight out at her like a sword.

She then turned around and bent over, her short nightie rising revealing her round ass. She then moved back, wiggling her ass, but not touching my cock. As she wiggled, she glanced back at me over her shoulder, "Come on, Thom tell me what you're going to do to your naughty girl."

With my hard cock sticking straight out aimed at her ass, the head an inch away, my jeans dropped to the floor and I stepped out of them. I put my hands on her hips as she wiggled her ass.

"You like me being naughty, don't you, Thom? You want to spank your naughty girl, don't you?"

Her words stunned me but looking at her round ass as she wiggled it at me, made me do something I had never done. I couldn't resist. I slapped her ass and started spanking her.

"Ouch!" she gasped and I slapped her again, then again, harder—slap, slap, slap.

"Oh yes, spank your naughty girl, spank me!" and I could see she liked it, and so I kept slapping, seeing her ass getting red. I had never hit a person before, let alone slap a woman's ass, but she kept shouting, "Spank your naughty girl! This is so hot!" she said, turning her head, looking at me, her mouth wide open and I slapped her again.

Spanking her, I suddenly felt the urge to ram my cock hard into her. When I stopped spanking her, she wiggled her ass again as if taunting me then turned, looking over her shoulder and saw my cock standing straight out.

"So, Thom, are you going to fuck me for being naughty?" she asked, wiggling her ass, grazing the tip of my cock, surprising me at how on the edge of fantasy and reality we were.

"Yeah, I'm going to fuck you," I said, speaking like I was someone else.

"You think so. You think I'm going to let you fuck me. Remember, Thom, I'm the one who's always in control."

I couldn't believe how she was playing with my mind, teasing me then taking charge, one minute being the submissive naughty girl and the next minute tantalizing me with her I'm in control game.

She then went to the bed and crawled up to the other end, revealing her round ass as she moved cat-like, and then turned and sat up, facing me, leaning back against the headboard and propped up pillows. She sat up with her feet flat against the mattress, her legs bent and wide open, exposing her neatly trimmed pussy. She smiled seeing where my eyes were looking, knowing she was seducing me.

"You really want to fuck your naughty little girl, don't you?" she said, opening and closing her legs, each time a little wider than before, biting her lower lip, looking into my eyes. "I'm making you horny, aren't I, Thom?" She then covered her pussy with her hand and started rubbing, "You want to put that big hard cock in me, don't you, Thom?"

"Yes, you know I do."

"But you can't," she said, coyly, playfully. "You know the rules. We just masturbate for each other. Remember! No more touching. The spanking was just a little game to get us warmed up."

"I remember the rules, but I don't know if I can play by those rules."

"Yes, you can. You have to." she said. "We can't really fuck."

I got on my knees at the edge of the bed looking at her eyes. "This is dangerous territory," I said, moving closer to her.

"I know but this is the reality we're in, no real fucking, just our hands and imagination like in one of those private rooms on the internet."

I looked into her eyes, moving closer, kneeling between her open legs, my cock standing straight out over her hand rubbing her pussy.

"I'm so wet, Thom," she said, looking at my hard cock. "Hmmmmmmm, I love how hard you are."

I looked down at her open pussy as she rubbed herself harder. Suddenly, I knew I wanted to eat her, to lick her pussy.

"I want to eat you," I said.

"Just pretend," she said, moving her finger in and out of her pussy.

I moved my face between her legs, shoving her hand away, ignoring her, and started licking her pussy.

"Oh Thom," she gasped and started pushing my head, struggling to squirm away then suddenly, she hesitated, her hands stopped pushing and held my head, still, letting my insistent tongue continue probing her open pussy. I was surprised that she wasn't resisting, but let my tongue move up and down her dripping pussy.

"Oh, Thom," she gasped.

I continued pressing my tongue against her pussy, lapping up her juices with the flat of my tongue, devouring her pussy, my nose now pressed against her clit. She grabbed my hair and was pulling my head into her pussy, "Oh, yes! Eat me! Do it. Do it!"

While darting my tongue in and out, she lifted her hips off of the bed, pressing harder against my mouth. "Oh yes, eat me, this is so good, yes, yes," she screamed, holding my head tighter, forcing my tongue to lick harder and harder, her body writhing, her head thrashing. I then placed two fingers in her and began sucking her engorged clit. As soon as I did that, she rose off of the bed, her whole body shuddering as a huge convulsing orgasm swept over her, causing her to scream louder, her cum pouring out of her pussy all over my mouth, before collapsing on the bed She was panting and then looked up at me hovering over her. "Well, I guess we crossed the Rubicon," she said, panting and smiling.

"Yes, but we're still in our own world," I said, "our own reality."

"I went farther than I wanted to," she said.

"No, you went where you needed to go."

"And you took me where I needed to go," she said.

"No I didn't. You chose and went where you needed to go," I said.

"Am I cheating on my boyfriend?"

"I don't know. You're in your secret self, your own reality, a place that belongs only to you and to no one else."

"It's confusing, but it felt good to let go."

"Hannah, you don't belong to anyone. Your reality is yours, not your boyfriends, not anyone's and if you need to explore your own sexual world. Don't hold back. Your body and your spirit belong only to you."

"I'm still horny," she said. "I'm insatiable. I want you to fuck me."

I was kneeling between her knees, my cock still hard. She looked at it. "I want you! I need you."

I moved forward and started moving the head of my cock up and down her wet pussy lips, teasing her.

"Hmmmmm that feels sooooo good," she murmured, lying back against the pillows, her arms above her head, her hands gripping the top of the headboard, lifting her hips.

I moved the tip of my cock slowly up and down her pussy lips, our eyes locked on each other. Hannah bit her lower lip, savoring the sensation of my cock playing with her.

"Don't tease me, Thom. Fuck me hard."

I was determined to drive her crazy, to fuck her in a way she would never forget.

"Oh, Thom, please don't tease me. Please, just fuck me. I can't stand this, fuck me. Do it! I want it now!"

I looked into her hungry eyes, my cock playing with her pussy like the strings of a violin, bringing her to the edge of breaking, her ass lifting off of the bed, her back arching, reaching for my teasing cock.

Gripping the headboard tightly, lifting her ass higher, my backing off forcing her to strain, reaching for it, "Oh, damn you! Fuck me, give it to me. Oh Thom, I can't stand it anymore. Please, fuck me! Take me!"

Suddenly she put her arms around my shoulders, locking her legs around my waist, lifting her ass, her strong insistent legs pulling me into her until I reared back, thrusting hard, driving her back to the bed, her tight pussy gripping my cock, the headboard banging against the wall. Pulling out again, ramming my cock into her harder, I reached under her, lifting her up by her ass, holding her off of the bed, my cock thrusting into her again and again, her back arching, my hard cock pumping into her hot tight pussy again and again and again before driving her back to the bed, her screaming urging me to pound her even harder. She unlocked her legs from around my back, placing them over my shoulders, lifting her ass higher off the bed, letting me fuck her like a jackhammer, her hands grabbing the headboard, her head thrashing from side to side, her dripping pussy completely open to my hard thrusting cock.

Moving my body forward, swiveling, screwing her, my swollen cock rubbing her clit and g-spot, pounding her harder again and again and again, her whole body wracked with convulsions, her screaming urging me to thrust even harder. At the same time, glad that I had a vasectomy, I felt my balls tighten, that tingling trembling sensation rising, my swollen cock about to burst, thrusting like a hot piston in and out of her tight wet pussy faster and faster harder and harder.

"Cum in me, cum in me Thom, I'm safe, just give it to me. I want it all," she shouted, my cock gripped by her tight pussy.

"I'm cummming! I'm cummming!" I yelled louder, suddenly exploding, shooting out white hot gushes of cum into her already creaming, overflowing pussy, writhing in ecstasy, my cock driving deeper, our screaming filling the room, our bodies shaking in huge orgasms, my swollen cock clutched by her flooding pussy, our mingling cum dripping down her ass and thighs.

Collapsing on her, we couldn't speak, both of us trying desperately to catch our breath. I had never fucked anyone so hard in all my life. We both lay there unable to budge, dazed, wallowing in the warm afterglow.

After a few moments, I rolled off of her and lay on my back, panting, gasping and looking up at the ceiling, trying to make sense out of what just happened. I then turned on my side, facing her and she did the same. We embraced, holding each other close, neither of us wanting to speak. Finally, Hannah got up on one elbows and looked down at me, tears in her eyes, a smile on her lips. I smiled up at her and loved her eyes, her mouth, her dimples. "I'm glad you came into my life today," she said, softly.

"I'm glad we met, too."

"I want you to know I love my boyfriend very much," she said, wiping a tear with her knuckle. "And I would never want to hurt him."

"I know," I said. "But you have a secret life. There's a whole part of you that he knows nothing about and you have a right to keep it to yourself, or take the risk of telling him about it, but whatever you do, don't feel guilty for who you are. You're a good person."

"This is hard for me. I understand what you mean, but it's hard. I don't want to lose him or hurt him, but I don't want to give up this part of me, my sexuality, my imagination."

"Life is a risk, Hannah. You have to take the chance of sharing this part of who you are with him, or keeping it secret. It's a choice. There is no right or wrong, but it would be better if he knew and is able accept you--all of you. I've learned that opportunities present themselves and are gifts, blessings in disguise, often lessons, but you have to be willing to listen and learn. It's not what happens but what you do with what happens."

"I know," she said, pausing, nodding. "Choosing an illusion doesn't make my life less real."

"It's all an illusion," I said, reaching up and moving the hair out of her eyes. "And we create our own reality."

"You're amazing," she said.

"So are you," I responded.

We were quiet in the elevator, feeling it descending, glancing at each other then up at the small light above the door, the numbers three, two, one flashing. The bell chimed just as the door opened into the small lobby. Outside, on the street, she took my hand, then stood up on her toes and kissed me on the lips. I kissed her back. We didn't say a word. She then turned and started walking down the street, her green canvas bag over her shoulder.

I walked away in the opposite direction. After a few minutes, we both turned and she waved goodbye to me and I waved goodbye to her, both knowing we had experienced something rare as we went back to our own lives.

Two years later

I hadn't seen or heard from Hannah since the last time I was in New York to do a poetry reading at the public library. That was two years ago and now I was back to do a reading at Barnes and Noble from my recently published book, Morning Songs. Hannah had been careful not to tell me where she lived or give me any information about her, so I had no way to let her know. I try not to have expectations and have learned that when I don't have expectations, I am never disappointed, and often I am surprised. Still, I hoped she would have seen the posters advertising the reading and show up.

Just before the reading was to begin and people where gathering in the bookstore café, I was delighted to see Hannah walk in. My heart leaped with surprise and gladness. I guess she must have seen the posters advertising the reading. Our eyes met and we nodded our greeting. She smiled and walked to the counter to order a coffee while I shuffled through the pages in the book and some new poems I was going to read. We kept glancing at each other.

When I noticed what she was wearing I wondered whether she was dressing in order to make something happen later. She looked really hot in a short black tight miniskirt that was high on her thighs, a tight black turtle neck shirt, a black kerchief around her neck, dangling earrings and cowboy boots. Her long black curly hair was flowing wildly half way down her back. I could not help but see her tits straining her tight shirt, and it was clear she was not wearing a bra. She looked sexy and knew it. This was not the way she usually dressed for work. Normally, she dressed in loose paisley peasant skirts, blouses and generally more conservatively. Tonight, she was dressing to seduce me, perhaps living in one of her secret fantasies.

I looked down at my poetry then at her as she took a seat at a table near the front but off to the side. Our eyes met as she sipped her coffee, looking over the rim at me. She then put her cup down and leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, her skirt higher on her thighs, her tits stretching the tight turtle neck shirt. Our eyes met again and I remember her smile when she tilted her head, gesturing for me to come over to her.

People were still coming in and getting settled as I walked over to her table. I stood looking down at her, loving how her barely covered leg moved back and forth in the short skirt and boots. She was definitely teasing me.

"Well, hello," I said, smiling at her. "I was wondering whether you would come to my reading."

"You were, were you?" she answered coyly.

"Yes, I was hoping to see you again."

"Well, here I am," she said, grinning at me.

"Yes, and looking quite nice."

"Nice, huh," she said, a frown replacing her smile. "Nice?"

"Well, maybe nice isn't the right word," I said, realizing she was not trying to look nice, but was sending me another message, which she was doing loud and clear.

"Right, 'Nice' is not the right word," she said, "but thanks. I know what you meant."

"What are you doing after the reading?" I asked.

"What would you like me to do after the reading?" she answered, smiling playfully.

"You know the answer to that question," I said, both of us enjoying our teasing little game.

"So, how are things with you and your boyfriend? Does he still not know about your secret fantasy life?"

"Doesn't have a clue and doesn't need to know."

I nodded realizing she was still living her secret life.

"We're very happy. He's a great guy and we share a lot of interests, but he just doesn't have the sex drive or imagination I have."

"So, you still have your secret life."

"Right, now can we drop that? I don't want to go there."

"I understand," I said, seeing a little discomfort, a brief awkwardness.

"I'm here for your poetry and maybe we can hang out later," she said, smiling up at me.

"Sounds good," I answered, "I would love to hang out with you later."

"Me, too," she said, our eye locked on each other.

I could feel myself getting hard when she said that but had to focus on my reading. I glanced up at the clock and around the room and saw everyone was settled and waiting.

"You're not making it easy for me to give a poetry reading," I said, my leg rubbing against her thigh, my cock straining against my jeans.

"Good," she said, glancing at my bulge, "I like making it hard for you," she added knowing I would enjoy her pun.

"You do, do you?" I responded, my cock growing harder, forcing me to hold my book of poems in front of me to conceal what was happening. "You're bad," I said.

"I know. Are you going to punish me?"

"Yes," I said then bent down and whispered in her ear. "And then I'm going to fuck you for real."

"You think so, do you?"

"I know so," I said, just as the woman who was introducing me went to the lectern.I stood at Hannah's table, my leg gently touching hers, watching the woman put on the horn-rimmed glasses hanging from a thin strap, then looking down at her notes and mentioned some of the places I had published and how my new book had won first prize in a competition and publication. I went to the lectern, nodded to the audience as they applauded, glanced over at Hannah, our eyes meeting, a slight smile on her lips and then began the reading.

I mentioned some things about the poems then started reading, stopping to tell the story of how I wrote a particular poem, read a few more, and said a few more things that brought laughter. I looked at a few people as I read, trying to make eye contact. People were attentive, responsive and I noticed one woman jotting down some lines in a note book.

I looked over at Hannah who listened attentively, our eyes meeting. I knew she loved literature and was well read. She had majored in English at NYU and I could tell she liked my poetry. When I looked over at her, I tried unsuccessfully not to think about how sexy and beautiful she looked in a feeble attempt to stay focused, but the next poem brought me back to the reading. I concluded the reading with Choosing an Illusion, the same poem I read and dedicated to her two years earlier. Again, when I ended it, our eyes lingered on each other before I acknowledged the applause and thanked people for coming and said I would sign books, if they wanted.

Several people came up to the lectern with their books and we chatted. Hannah watched from her table, our eyes meeting as I glanced over at her. At one point she smiled, her tongue licking her lower lip, and I was ready to get out of there. Still, people gathered around me, making small talk about how they liked a certain poem, or how a poem reminded them of some other poem they loved. I was patient, nodding politely, but still anxious to be out of there and be with Hannah.