A New York Fuck

In the intensity of that moment, there was nothing he could have asked for that I would have denied him. "Fuck me, Robert, fuck me hard. Make me cum again."

Once more experience told, without breaking eye contact, he was at my opening and then sliding in with one purposeful and certain thrust. My intuition had been right, his upward curve fit me to perfection. My eyes widened and an expletive passed my open mouth as he filled me. In an almost autonomic reaction, I wrapped my legs around him and tilted my pelvis up to take him even deeper.

At full penetration, he ground his pubic bone against my far from recovered clit. And I was off again, nearly cumming, just with him motionless inside me. He bent his arms, lowered his face, and I accepted his tongue into my welcoming mouth. Hands clasping the back of his head, pulling him to me. Making him mine.

And then he started to rock. Slowly at first. Shallowly in and out. Rolling pressure on my clitoris at the end of each stroke. His swollen head finding just the right place to rub against. And, once more, I was lost. Different now, my whole body sweetly tortured by his increasing rhythm. In only seconds, I was writhing. My nails scoring his back, my head thrown back as he bit my neck softly. Too much, just too much. I screamed again, but deeper, more of a roar, as his body crashed repeatedly into me and my climax hit me like a sledgehammer. No gradual increase of feelings. Just raw, animalistic euphoria raging through my convulsing body.

Through my overwhelmed senses, I dimly realized that his thrusting had become more urgent. Until now, he had been focused on me, now his own rapture was close. And I wanted it for him. I wanted him to experience what I had. I lifted my head and kissed his ear, then took a lobe between my teeth, breathing hot air into him. And I felt him tense, his back tighten. I spread my legs wider. Releasing him momentarily, I whispered, "cum for me, I want you to cum for me," before biting his flesh again.

And he too lost control, became a bucking, pulsating, tensing creature of pure elation. I felt a guttural moan start deep in his heaving chest before a noise passed his lips. And then my ears were full of his lustful howling.

As his body convulsed, I paid heed to my own suppressed feelings once more, his pulsing, up-turned cock again aligned to perfection. And I came a final time, not the son et lumière of before, but a deeply, warmly satisfying elevation that rushed through my whole body, leaving me sleepy and satisfied.

He kissed me again, having to pause to take panting breaths. He was still twitching as his body expelled the last drops, and I could feel his heart thumping against my own chest. Then, with a deep sigh, he carefully disengaged, holding the sheath in place, before collapsing next to me. We stayed like that for some time. Each prone, each trying to come to terms with the magnitude of our climactic shared experience.

Eyes still closed, he finally spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "That was the best. My God Sadie. The very best."

I said nothing, but turned and snuggled next to him, my head in the crook of his arm. Softly, sleep crept over my satiated body.

When I woke, I was alone. A panic gripped me. Then I saw the balcony door ajar. Heard his voice drifting into the room. No distinct words, but his voice. I climbed out of bed and padded nude to the door, popping just my head through the opening.

He was standing there in a hotel robe, phone held in front of his chin, with the speaker on. My welcoming smile froze as I faintly heard a woman's voice emanate from it. And then his words: "OK, I'll call you tomorrow. Love you."

I felt my knees start to give way and grabbed the doorframe to steady myself. At the noise, Robert turned round, concern etched on his face.

I was hit by a wave of nausea and my surroundings began to spin. Then his hands were on me, supporting me, guiding me back to the bed, lying me down. He disappeared, then returned with water from the minibar. He sat, twisted the top off, and offered the bottle to me. I took a gulp, and we both began to speak at the same time.

A shared laugh broke the tension. I could see he wanted to say something, but he waited for me. Considerate as always. "I'm sorry. I'm being a baby. It's just... well it's one thing knowing you are married. Quite another hearing her voice."

I paused, uncertain whether I should say more. "Quite another hearing you say that you love her."

There, it was out there. Robert smiled ruefully. "It's my fault. I should have gone down to the lobby. But I didn't want you to think that I had run. I wasn't careful enough, didn't think of you. I'm sorry."

He bowed his head and looked at the floor as he spoke. "It's... complicated. What a fucking cliché, right?" He laughed, but with a bitter edge to the sound. "It's true, I do still love her. But... but it's different. Joyce... she's... she's still my best friend. But... but something happened, not a trauma, not an illness, nothing definitive. She... she just stopped wanting me, wanting anyone. She just lost interest in the physical. I don't think she's ever been unfaithful. Not... not like me."

He stopped and extended his arm towards me. I handed him the water and he nodded in thanks. His mouth moistened, Robert continued. "I still wanted her, but not if she didn't want me. I don't think I could have borne that. We never reached an explicit agreement. But we both understood. It was best friends from now on. And if I had... well, needs. Then that was OK. So long as I didn't rub her face in it. So long as I was careful. So, here I am."

I reached out and touched his shoulder. "That must have been hard, must still be hard. I didn't mean to make things worse. You were open with me. I knew what I was getting in to. It's just... well... OK, I'll just say it. That was the best fuck ever. Nothing else was even close. I didn't know it could be like that. And my head is still spinning if I'm honest. It was... it was just a shock to segue from that to..."

He took my hands and raised me to sitting, enfolding me in his arms, my face buried in his shoulder. "It's OK, shit timing and my fault totally. I was an asshole, OK? Forgive me?"

I nodded. He laughed again, but the bitterness had gone. "And you know what? Me too!"

I wasn't sure what he meant and guessed that my face showed this. "I never had a fuck like that either, Sadie. It was truly incredible."

I felt a glow, unsure if it was pride, relief, or arousal. OK, it was definitely the beginnings of arousal. I put my hands on Robert's cheeks and kissed him. "Tell you what, we can talk later. Is an old man like you capable of getting it up again, or do I have to look after myself?"

He grinned. "Well, there is one thing you could do. Something I have been dreaming of. Something we talked about, that you wrote about in your stories."

He slipped off his robe and stood. I could see already that there were signs of recovery. Again my expression must have revealed my inner feelings. This time his laugh was unrestrained. "I'm forty-three, not sixty-three. And you told me you were an angel on your knees. Want to demonstrate?"

I knelt and took his hardening appendage in my hands. Then guided it to my mouth. He was fully erect within ten seconds. I could feel my own excitement build as well. As I began to slide him in and out of my mouth, my other hand slipped lower and started to rub my own flesh.

We had the rest of the day and three whole other ones together. We did get out for the promised trip to Fifth Avenue. We dined at upmarket restaurants. We took the mandatory horse and carriage ride in Central Park. And we visited MOMA and The Guggenheim, art lovers the both of us. He called Joyce each day and I didn't freak out. I tried to take it in my stride.

We also spent a lot of time in the hotel room. He'd brought his camera as we had discussed. He took photos of me in lingerie, and then with it removed. He shot me in a suicidally short dress on the balcony. It wasn't until he showed me an image on the flip-out screen that I realized my naked pussy was fully visible.

Most of the time we were finding new and interesting ways to interlock our bodies, or revisiting ones that had worked for us before. I was happy, I was sexually fulfilled, and Robert was just fun to hang out with, to talk to. I'd made peace with the thought of his wife. It really was his business after all. The only cloud was knowing that our time together would soon end.

On this point I was confused. Deeply so. What did I want? I wanted more of this, of course. Who wouldn't? But I also knew I couldn't have it.

I could tell it was on his mind as well. After lunch, on our final day, he raised the topic. "It's the elephant in the room, right? I want to be honest with you. I have always tried to be. I really like you. I mean really like you. The sex is amazing, but... but it's not just that. You are amazing, everything about you. I... wow! I've never said this before, never felt like saying it. I'd... oh fuck man, out with it! I want to see you again. To be with you again. I... I don't know what I can offer you. I don't know if you feel the same. But that's what I feel."

He ended with almost a note of pleading, I kissed him. "I feel the same, honey. But I have no clue what that means in practice. You don't want to leave Joyce. I don't want to ruin your marriage. We live a continent apart. What else is there?"

He paused and when he spoke there was uncertainty in his voice. "Well, there could be more of this. I travel a lot. I do hit the West Coast sometimes. It wouldn't always have to be you on a plane."

I didn't know what to say. He continued. "And, and I don't know what this is. I guess maybe you don't either. It's early days, of course. But I know it's good. I'd like to get the chance to find out what we have and what it means. How about you?"

I nodded silently. Then a word popped into my head, an old fashioned word maybe, but apposite. "I could be, like your... mistress... maybe."

He smiled. "That's a sexy title. What would my mistress do for me?"

We were back in the room and, as he had predicted, clothing wasn't something we often bothered with. "Well, I could start by doing this..."

I got onto the bed on all fours, crawling slowly cat-like about. I glanced seductively over my shoulder at him, and could see that my pose was already causing him to fill with blood. "Or I could do this..."

I lay my face on the bed, my ass pointing straight at him. Reaching back, one hand pulled my butt-cheek a little to the side, and the other dipped into my pussy.

It wasn't the biggest surprise to hear a condom being unwrapped. I maintained my provocative position, anticipation gripping me, and my digits busy with my vagina. He gently moved my hand and replaced my finger with a larger probe. Gripping my waist, he lunged forward, knowing I was wet enough to take the abrupt invasion. Now deep inside me, Robert pulled both my arms behind my back, restraining my movement and giving him purchase to fuck me hard. Even with this orientation, there was something just so exquisite about how he fit me.

The angle was sublime, and his pounding so fevered and incessant, that it took mere minutes for my body to tip over into delightful delirium. As I felt him also begin to reach peak pleasure, I had an idea. "Pull out, pull out. You said you wanted a particular photo to remind you of me, right?"

Robert's eyes widened and he followed my instructions. He went and grabbed his camera and placed it on the bed. I knelt in front of him, mouth open, eyes closed, tongue out. And I waited. I could feel the vibrations of his manual efforts through the floor and my knees. Then the first warm, sticky spurt hit my face, beginning to slowly drip down. And a second, mostly in my mouth, some on my chin. And a third, half on my forehead, half in my hair.

Opening my eyes carefully, this stuff stung, I put a coy finger to my lower lip and pouted as his shutter repeatedly clicked.

The plane was held at the gate, they had to remove the luggage of a no show. I was on my third champagne by now. Inside me contradictory emotions raged.

His mistress? Was that all I was to him? But I had gone into this eyes wide open, expecting nothing more than the physical. And his wife? That barely heard, disembodied voice on his phone. What about her? I didn't want to be a home-wrecker. I didn't want to end up cited in some divorce proceeding. And anyway, he was East Coast, I was West. I didn't need the drama of a long distance relationship. And I had my final year at college to focus on, and finding a job. An affair was too much, much too much.

Then there was the age difference. We were not in the same places in our lives. Nowhere even close. It had just been sex. The best sex of my life, but just sex. Maybe even better sex was just around the corner. No, it was just a hook-up, the fling that I had originally wanted.

Then why the hollowness in my chest? The pin-pricks in my eyes? The yearning for his touch? Yearning for his closeness?

Enough! He's just a guy. Just some guy. You don't need a man to be complete for fuck's sake. Pull yourself together, woman!

I got out my phone and found his details. I clicked 'edit' and scrolled down to the red 'delete contact.' My finger hovered, what was I waiting for?

Then, I jumped in my seat, just as I had in the hotel room waiting to meet him for the first time. I saw his name. I opened the message, my previous hesitation a memory.

"Sadie, you're the best. I have no idea how this works, but I want to try to find a way."

Beneath the message an ellipsis flickered. He was writing more.

"This might be unfair to say, I'm sorry if it is. But I have to say it. I think I'm in love with you."

I knew suddenly that while I could easily itemize so many things I didn't want, there was one thing I was sure that my heart did. And it was him.

As our delayed departure was finally announced, I typed three characters and pressed 'send.'

I turned off my phone and went back to sipping champagne. The plane's engines began to throb, and I was on my way home again.