Hotel

It seems like an eternity that I stand poised in the hallway, hand raised to rap against the door panel. I could be paranoid to be seen here outside your hotel door, but this is the first time I've been to this city, and probably the last as well. And anyway, I could give a fuck what strangers think of me. No, the true cause of my trepidation is the unknown that lies beyond this door. And funny thing is, I don't know whose expectations I am more afraid of, yours or mine.

One slab of metal stands between us, like a, well...like a doorway to another existence. Woot, go analogy girl. Yes, that late night flight was an excellent idea and has not dulled your cunning wit one iota.

Brain must focus.

Choices are at hand. Life altering choices that cannot be reversed once embarked on. Cartoons and flirting, a 3x3 picture on a flickering screen maybe do not translate well to the stripped down bare face of reality. And all of this has built up to this moment. Am I going to bring these knuckles against this door, or am I going to flee like a chicken shit. I bring my forehead to rest against the numbers of your hotel room and start to pray. I need a sign. An omen. A burning bush or a baby in a basket, anything because all the times I've practiced it, that terrific speech I've been working on has just flown out of my head.

Is that my heart pounding in my throat? Is that even anatomically possible? Was that my fist that just thumped softly next to my head? My brain has exaggerated the impact until surely they can hear it all the way down in the lobby, but realistically judging by the shaking hand, it's possible you haven't even heard it inside the room. But the clicking of the mechanism, the rattle of the knob takes even that daydream away from me. It's go time.

And I'm frozen, staring into your eyes...inquisitive...hopeful? Your lips pull up into a smile, familiar to me because I've imagined it, written about it a thousand times. And that sigh as you caress my name, the syllables of your greeting tumbling out in reverence and longing. You retreat slightly and the door swings soundlessly wider. I couldn't turn around now even if I wanted to, I slide past you, turning my head to keep your gaze as our shoulders brush. If anything is going to turn the course of this evening, it will have to be you. I've gone too far to pull back now.

I twirl with my back to the room, still keeping your face in my sights. "Rene," you say again as your strong back leans until the door thunks back into its frame. Confronted by your breath, your warmth, and your energy so close... I'm assaulted by the need to touch you for real this time and liberate you from the fantasy I've created in my head. But I'm afraid to move.

My hesitation creates an opportunity and you step forward with intensity, hands coming up to grip either side of my face. Angling my face upwards, our mouths are slashing against each other in seconds, needy and desperate until all doubt and reservation are burned to ash. My palms flutter uselessly to your elbows, continue a journey up along the outside of your arms. Yet I'm bolder as your tongue snakes between my lips, parting them and stealing my breath directly from me, and my grasp is fierce when I wrap my hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you in . I can taste the bit of mint lingering, blending with the herbal tang of the tea I drank in the cab on the way over. And as my hold on you changes, your hands descend, thumbs drawing two perpendicular lines down my torso, dissecting my nipples as your fingers encircle my ribcage to eventually reach my hips.

I don't know how, but we're staggering towards the bed. We fall onto it and our mouths break apart long enough for me to let out a startled giggle. Lying flat against your chest, I feel safe though. And as your hands start to roam over my ass, I feel the mound of your rising cock beneath your jeans. When I lift my knee a bit, we lock together closer.

"Lose the shirt," I order with a ragged breath, hands already exploring beneath the hem at your waist, tugging. You rock our position, your back hovering off the mattress. I try to arch as far as my spine will allow while simultaneously yanking the t-shirt over your head. After a muffled grunt or two, mine joins it in a cotton bullet that bounces off the wall. It brings the next obstacle to light, your pants. I rise on all fours, back down your torso, and then fumble with them. "God I hate these," I huff in frustration. You respond with a laugh and help me wriggle them over your hips. They soon join the pile against the wall along with your underwear.

I take a moment just to take in the sight of you lying there before me, the fur of your chest, your hand laid absently over your left nipple as you wait for me. Your cock is already so hard, skin stretched and shiny. Precum is just starting to collect in the well at its tip and I reach out, fascinated as always by the sight of it. Cool fingers grasp it with what is meant to be a gentle touch, but I think that in my anticipation I'm a little rougher than I intend. You don't seem to mind though, observing the purple head peeping out from the circle of my thumb and index finger.

"Oh...Angel," you groan. "I need you so badly."

"You want to fuck my pussy?" I tease with a mischievous grin. It's like asking if the sky is blue, or if it rains in Seattle.

"Baaaby, you know I do."

"Well I want you to," I say matter of factly, but you can see the heat in my eyes. I lick my lips, they're so dry, and pull my skirt up past my thighs. I don't loosen my hold on your shaft though, oh no. I don't want to do that. I spread my legs and position myself over you, fingers of the other hand pull the fabric of my panties to the side and I ease you into my entrance, my inner lips wet and swollen...so ready for you. A guttural "Ohhhhh " escapes me as I feel your shaft bury itself inside me, slowly seeking my core. I can feel that ache starting and I grind desperately against you, wanting to feel every inch of you claiming me for what may be the only time.

"You know what I love?" I ask, looking down at you, memorizing your features.

"Hybrid cars? World peace?" You try to joke, but the effect is lost as your mouth goes slack and your eyes roll back into your head.

"To know that in this moment, fucking me is your whole world."

"It is, baby," You agree as your breathing quickens.

"It's your sustenance?" I ask as I rise up over your cock.

"It is, baby"

"Your air?" I prompt as I engulf you again, my ass brushing against your sac. "Your reason for existence?"

"You are the only thing that is real and the sound of your voice is all that I ever want. Neeeee Neeee," you groan.

Your balls twitch as they empty your seed into me, your cock pulsing, I can feel it throbbing deep within as it impales me and your cum starts to drizzle out where our bodies are joined. I want every drop of you, every bead of sweat, the trail of moisture at the corner of your eyes. I want to take these things with me, this tangible proof that you exist, that we have been here...our energies mingling and feeding one another. Strange and alien, yet familiar at the same time...the dichotomy is hard to comprehend.