The Red Room

He had not expected her standing there when he answered the knock on the door. He had already stripped himself of the formal regalia he had worn at the banquet. All that was left was a white shirt, unbuttoned roughly halfway down his torso and he black trousers that were part of his rented tuxedo. He was momentarily frozen there, standing at the door that leads into the red room. She looked at him the same way she had done back at the banquet. Blue eyes boring into dark ones, flicking her hair back onto her bare shoulders and mouthing something which he could not comprehend due to the distance between them. It had been a mystery, one that had ruined his night out, along with her walking away from him and disappearing amid the throng of guests. Now she stood their right in front of him, her blonde hair still as unruffled and barely touching her shoulders as before. Her modest black dress clung to her like a second skin. She did not wait for him to say anything, but grazed past him and into the red room, leaving an aura of her sweet perfume tantalizing his nostrils.

The moon shone dully outside the huge window of the red room, a stark contrast to the smooth light of the bedside lamps. Her footsteps were muffled by the carpet in front of it, and he merely stared at her reflection staring back at him. He went to the drink cabinet and poured himself a gin, poured her one as well, but when he looked up she had already vanished into the bathroom. The last thing he saw of her was one of her slender, well-formed calves disappearing from sight. She did not close the door. He downed his drink too quickly, creating an unexpected buzz in his head. He walked to the window, pressed his hand on the cold surface of the glass, trying to compose his thoughts, trying to ignore his heart beating in his throat. He opened the window and looked down at the urban sprawl beneath him, so many people out there, experiencing different things all at the same time, yet he somehow felt as if the entire world had just paused to look at how he was going to cope with this situation. How he was going to cope with this silent woman, the definition of beauty and seduction, now in the bathroom of his red room. The red room was his territory, his sanctum, at least for the night. What would the rest of the night bring? How would it all pan out?

He now realized that she had not yet returned. As he turned around, her could hear water running, and steam coming from the bathroom. Warmth radiated from inside of there, clouding all his thoughts and doubts, inviting him. A warm place where he would be able to find succor. Yet doubt pushed the warmth aside when he hesitated at the threshold, but then he saw her black dress lying on the bathroom floor, a seemingly mythical isle enshrouded by the steaming fog. There lay something under her dress, but he could not make it out for what it was. Was there a hint of lace? He was not sure. His gaze soon fell upon the frosted glass that separated them from each other. Her silhouette coiled around the steady spray of hot water, creating a cascading concerto upon her body. It was hard to make out the details, but she was lathering herself up thoroughly, he was certain of that. The lavender smell of the soap that was common to the red room had saturated the damp air, and he could make out her hands running up and over every part of her body. She lingered at her breasts, sighing as she added more lather to them, dousing them in its smell. Then she turned around, her arms caressing her back, as if someone had intruded upon their moment without him even realizing it. He had unbuttoned his shirt completely and saw beads of sweat pearling on his chest. The racing of his heart was drowned out by the hissing of the shower, and he thought he would not be able to cope with it all for very much longer. He wanted to take his things and leave the red room, just to go outside and walk away. That was until her hand opened the glass screen just wide enough for her arm to pass through.

"Could you hand me a towel?" Her voice was soft. Carefree and full of miracles, sounding in a night of wonder.

He had poured himself another drink and sat on the edge of the bed. His tie and jacket lay sprawled on the white sheets; a cell phone flashed a bright light from the heap of pillows at the top end. It had been ten minutes since he had left the bathroom; the cool air that greeted him in the red room did nothing to soothe the turmoil in his head, and the telltale sign of excitement coming from his loins. Could he remember being in a situation like this before? He had had amorous nights that had ended with goodbyes in the morning before, and they had had their purpose. It had not given him anything beyond quick satisfaction, but then again it seemed as if nobody was willing to go beyond that nowadays. Yet this was altogether different. It was not supposed to be this easy, or so natural. It is a game, always has been a game, a hunt, with a very tender prey in the end. The table had not been turned exactly, since normally both hunter and hunted are in the know. He felt like he was left in the dark, despite the soft light in the red room. This new sensation that seemed to fray his nerve ends made his drink taste stale. It was a new kind of fever to the brain he was feeling, and he was afraid of the consequences of letting it wash over him.

She wore a purple corset with black satin worked in at the sides and at the hem when her feet touched the floor of the red room again. Her legs seemed endless, the light making the pale skin radiant with each step that she took closer to the bed. The flesh of her breasts pressed hard against the fabric of the corset, nearing perfection when his gaze went down to the exquisite curves of her hips. She stood over him, her legs touching his. She placed her hands on his knees, the very edges of her hair touching his forehead and partially obscuring the vista of her cleavage before she turned and sat next to him on the bed. She sat straight, staring at him while he noted her black lace thong further emphasizing the beauty of her buttocks. What little space there was between them was perfumed with lavender. Shame colored his cheeks when he brought his gaze back up to meet hers and a smile appeared on her face. She took his right hand and placed it on her chest, his fingertips nestled in her hair. His breathing immediately followed suit with the beating of her heart. Her composure belied the excitement and tension inside of her. Her free hand pulled the shirt off his shoulders, breaking up their physical contact. The shirt vanished amid the pale landscape of the sheets. She leant in and kissed his shoulder and he closed his eyes for fear of what he might do next. He did not want to spoil this moment, did not want to mar it with his masculine urges, and wanted to retain the sanctity and mystery of it all. It was her tongue seeking passage past his lips that set him at ease, letting him give in to what may come and sank back in the comfort of the bed.

Their kiss was heated, yet both of them held back as she lay on top of him, her legs rubbing up against his. He stroked her hair, let it run through his fingers as the caresses of her lips blessed his neck, his cheeks, his wanting mouth. He held her slim waist in his hands, kneaded the warm flesh beneath it, and then let them slide down to the bare skin of her buttocks. Her kiss flared up brighter instantly, moaning while her tongue searched out his, pressing her body closer against his and lifting her rear end up to be further fondled by his hands. Locking his mouth in her black widow kiss, he moved one of his hands to the contraption that made her corset stay in place. Being as left in the dark as he was, he pulled at the straps, noticing her surprise as he tore them loose quickly. She broke off the kiss, staring at his bewildered face, her breathing heavier yet still composed, and snaked a little bit further down his body, her lips landing on his chest. She cooed approvingly as she discovered the salt left there by his perspiration, and gave him a questioning look when her tongue left a moist, glistening trail from below his pectoral muscle up to his nipple, eliciting a moan on his behalf. It hardened from the damp cold and sheer arousal immediately, followed by his most intimate parts when her warm hand when it slid down his chest, past his belly and stayed between his legs, fingertips rubbing his swiftly stiffening penis.

She left some errant kisses on his chest, then straightened herself and looked down at him, sitting on her knees beside him. Her hand never wavered, still kneading and goading his erection, but she was nigh statuesque. He merely tried to stay alert of what she did; struggling against her caress, but his smile betrayed all that he felt raging inside of him.

"I want this to happen". He had not expected her to speak. "I want to feel you, know you intimately; to please you....to have you please me." Her face was still blank, perhaps even a bit sad. She had pursed her lips. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"I know. I want this to happen...as well." It seemed as if she had been waiting to hear him actually say it, not just make it clear with his bodily responses. She leant down, undoing his belt buckle and stripping down his trousers. Her breasts fell free from the confines of her ruined corset, pale and wholly unlike the walls of the red room, save perhaps for the fresh pink of her areolas. Her face was close to the bulge in his boxers, but then cast all doubt about her intentions to the wind as she freed his manhood from its last barrier, greeting it with a warm kiss on the tip. He could do nothing else and fell back amid the pillows, feeling her tongue warming him up, her lips smacking on the tip as she paid homage to his manhood. Her left hand went up and down his chest, until he seized her hand and kissed her fingertips; let his tongue play on the red-lacquered nails, emulating whatever she did to him. They goaded each other on, her stroking him with her free hand while her mouth worked miracles, gasping for breath every now and then as she let his hardness rest between her breasts, running her index finger along his lips, his tongue daring it to return to his mouth.

Her hand pulled back from his greedy mouth, letting it join the other one as she went down on him as if in a trance. The feeling of her tongue on his member, her mouth engulfing its heated skin and her hard nubs rubbing up against his inner thigh set loose all inhibitions and restraint, well past the point of no return. When he came in her mouth, filling her mouth with his seed it startled her, looking up at him while another jet splashed against her face and spilled from the corner of her mouth, but her hands further encouraged his orgasm, groaning as his hands gripped the sheets until his knuckles matched their color. She broke into laughter, bereft of mockery but full of joy. She lay down next to him, made sure that he saw her relishing in cleaning herself up, every drop spilled being consumed. She took off what was left of her corset, arching her back as she did and then sighed contently. He stared at the ceiling, panting from the strain of orgasm, hearing his blood surging through his veins, drowning out whatever sound may rear its head in the red room.

"I must repay you. It's what I want to do." He spoke plainly, finally realizing how she had been able to say the things she had said so matter-of-factly. He turned his head and found her face right on front of his, her golden hair partially covering her face. Her smile was plain to see. His large hand ran over her breasts, circling her puffy nipples, she stifled a moan by biting on her lip. It was only now that he saw she was completely naked, with her hand playing the same minuetto between her thighs as she had done to him.

"Treat me as I have treated you. Then our desires will be clear to one another, and none shall know of what has occurred between these red walls." The sadness dripped on her angelic features once more. He places his hand on hers, pushed her fingers aside. Though the night had seized the world outside, the sun shone brightly upon them in the red room.

She was propped up against the headrest of the bed, and closed her eyes every time he kissed the most intimate part of her body. His conduct was reverent, no greed or force marring the touch of his lips when they landed on her folds. He kissed and licked the very limits of her thighs, only briefly venturing beyond them to send a shiver down her spine before retreating to whence he had come. He let his finger rest on her clitoris and let it press down slightly as it moved down, the folds giving way eagerly, yet never going too far. She could not stop herself from crying out, it was too little for too long. It was aggravated further by his lips following suit wherever the finger left, which in turn got the better of him, finally focusing his attention on her inner sanctum completely. Her taste cut him free from planned actions, his instinct, his hidden passions set loose upon her. Her sensitive spot warmed up to his tongue, the very tip of it being doused in her arousal. He sucked on it lightly, relishing the soft feel and full taste of it before letting his tongue slid past her past her folds to pay homage to the source. He let his hands cup her breasts, his fingers trembling around them as she climaxed up against his mouth, her hips boring down on his face with the full force of orgasm. She moaned, her mouth and jaws clenched shut, wrapping her legs around his neck to let every shudder pass into his body. He slackened his caresses, yet never relented from kissing and lapping at her tender flesh, his mouth wet with her fluids.

Her mind swam with lust as she let the sweetest torment of all wash over her further, covering his hands with hers making him paw at her breasts, audibly declaring her passion louder. He gingerly slid a finger inside of her, burying it deep as he let his tongue grind harder against the swollen pearl of her vagina, thus letting her body go rigid with new and harder torrents of orgasm. He saw her hair matted and sticking to her sweat-sodden forehead as he pulled back to see what he had caused. Her eyes were wide in sheer disbelief of what he had just wrought upon her, a gaze that did not waver when she tried to catch her breath. He actually got off the bed, as if he was scared of what he had done, but her legs were quicker than his hesitation. He buckled to his knees, then on top of her, their faces close enough for the both of them to feel their breath in their eyes. She reached for his member and pushed it against her wet folds. This urged more than a surprised moan from him, as his half-erect organ slid easily inside of her and swelled up back to its peak size. She clenched her muscle in her body and choked him with a passionate kiss as she felt him enter her, and did not let him go until he cried out his approval and let his mouth stray down to her breasts, where he baptized his first thrusts with licking her swollen nipples. Her fingers dug into his hair, arching her back with every thrust he attempted, stifling the charge of his hardness with her scintillated muscles. His tip sunk into her moist walls, fighting back with circling around in her as he thrust, sucking hard on each nipple alternately. Had he won? He did not know, yet she did give way and parted her legs further, penetrating her deeper as a result. He broke free from her female form and straightened himself enough to see himself vanish inside of her temple, hearing the passion he wrought down there and ignoring her beseeching moans. He gave her all he could give, until she succumbed further and pulled him out of her.

Her back curled and curved with each breath as she went on her hands and knees, parting her folds to receive his benediction. He pressed his hardness against them, his chest pressed against her back, equally sodden with sweat, pushing her golden locks aside to kiss her neck. He entered her softly, nestling deep inside of her and not moving the slightest, waiting for her rabid instinct to push back against the entry, and push back she did. Despite his hands clutching at the firm skin and flesh of her breasts, which sent further tingles down his spine and loins, which soon left those mounds and when down to aggravate the placed he had kissed earlier and was entrenched in now, she determined the pace, she let her searing wetness bore down on him, him being the all too eager victim. The cadence transferred from time to him, with him responding with sharp, quick thrusts, only to have her take over the reins with torturing, slow, exaggerated movement, letting him delve deep inside of her on her own terms. She came up during one of his brief reigns, their bodies pressed against each other as the combination of his wild thrusts and lithe fingers made her plunge into hitherto unknown pleasures, effectively forcing him out of her as she fell facedown in the downy delight of the pillows to succumbing fully to her lust.

He had attuned fully to her rhythm and slid off her, falling between the sheets beside her. Still groaning from the spasms of orgasm besieging her, she straddled him and let out an inaudible gasp as she rocked her body on his hardness, finding support on his chest. Her nails dug into it as she milked him and goaded him toward a huge climax, her breasts rising and falling every time she let herself be impaled on top of him. He clenched his eyes shut, only paying heed to what pleasures were being delivered to him, and those were still on the increase. She allowed one of her hands to work on her clitoris, which brought the telltale shudders of orgasm to race through his hardness and soul once again. She knew it would prove to be too much. She knew they had both reached that elusive limit of human passion, angelic in the baseness of the act they were engaged in. He was already surrendering to its power when his member, coated in her juices and pulsating from her heat, slid between her breasts and let out its thick, pearly reward when her tongue ran wetly up along its shaft and tickled the rim of the tip, her hands wrapping her breasts around it as he splashed his own chest with his seed. She immediately lapped it up after all but the last drop had been milked from him, grinding her breasts against the convulsing shaft and not ready to end it there. Her mouth was still filled with the bounty when it wrapped around his glans again, showing great patience to make it stiff yet again, kissing and licking it sloppily with its own discharge coating it down to the very stem. Dawn colored the sky with tints not quite unlike those of the red room itself when he reached his climax one last time, the feeling surging through his body as intense as it has done the second time.

Few words were exchanged when they caressed each other in the shower. They continued their quest for passion in there, but the night had taken their toll on the both of them. Their lovemaking was more carnal than it had been before, almost unclean despite the heat of the shower crashing on the both of them. They both got dressed with each other's taste still on their lips and tongues. No goodbyes or phone numbers were exchanged. They did exchange glances, there in the red room. It had served its purpose. A purpose it would serve many times more, but not for these two. The outside world was grim and cold as it had always been, cars and people shouting already defiling the tranquility of the morning.

Later that night, a woman with features only the Mediterranean could bestow upon someone knocked on the door. Long-lashed green eyes answered it, followed by the slim body of a freckled ginger woman smiling at her unforeseen guest here, in the red room.