Meeting Hannah Ch. 01

"But it's exciting isn't it—being n the edge of reality, in this dangerous space. It's scary but it turns me on. I love it," she said.

Hannah got up and came over and stood close to me, our bodies barely touching. "Come with me, play with me-- make me your lover. Fuck me."

She then walked in back of me and leaned against me. I felt her tits on my back as she reached around and placed her hands on my crotch, grabbing my balls through my jeans. My cock was already hard and she moved her hand from my balls to my hard cock and started rubbing it through my jeans. "Hmmmmm. What a big cock you have," she whispered. "I want this baby. I want you to fuck me hard."

I could not believe how Hannah had changed as she moved her hand up and down my hard cock and how she was talking to me. It was as if she become her secret self.

I didn't say a word but closed my eyes enjoying her hands getting my cock harder than it had ever been, letting her take the lead.

"I want this cock in my hot wet pussy," she said. "I want hot, raunchy, dirty fucking, Mister. You want that too, don't you?"

"Yes," I said. "I want to fuck you. I want my cock in your tight pussy."

"That's it, Mister, talk dirty to me. I want you to ravish me. I want you to take me."

Just then Hannah unbuttoned my jeans, lowered the zipper and saw I didn't wear underwear. She took my hard cock in her hand and said, "Hmmmmm, I like a man ready for action. Damn, you're so big and hard."

Hannah's hand on my hard cock was driving me crazy. Just then I turned around facing her, my cock and balls outside my jeans. I grabbed her ass and pulled her against me. My cock was standing straight up. I held her ass and was grinding my cock against her mound. She gasped and said, "Oh yes" and arched her back as she started sliding her panty soaked pussy lips up and down the length of my cock. "Oh you feel sooooo good," she moaned. I could smell her arousal.

She then pushed me away and stepped back. We were both breathing heavily. "This is getting too real," she gasped, her face flushed, her mouth open. She stood facing me, our eyes looking into each other's eyes. She then walked to the bed, turned, reached under her skirt and took her panties off.

"Time for scene two," she said. She sat on the edge of the bed, lifted her skirt high on her thighs, revealing her cunt and spread her legs. "Masturbate with me. Stand between my legs and we can with each other and pretend we're fucking."

"Just a minute," I said and went into the bathroom, grabbed the little plastic container of shampoo and squirted it onto my right hand. In a flash I was back between her open legs, looking down at her wet pussy.

My cock was standing straight out just over her. She then stopped licking her nipple and looked at my cock as I hovered over her.

She then put her hand on her cunt and looked up at me. "Jerk off for me, baby while I fuck myself with my fingers."

"I'll play your game," I said, my jeans dropping to the floor. I stepped out of them and spread my legs so that they were touching her spread legs. I looked down at her open pussy and then into her eyes looking up at me.

"Fuck me," she said, looking at my cock. She put two fingers in her pussy while I grasped my soapy hand on my cock. I looked at her fingers going in and out of her wet pussy and she watched my hand moving up and down my hard cock. I squeezed my hand as tight as I could around my cock pretending it was her tight pussy, "Oh god you're so tight. I love your tight pussy."

"Oh, god, your cock is so big," she said.

"I can barely get my cock in you, you're so tight," I said, squeezing my hand tighter around my cock.

"Come on baby, harder, fuck me harder," she yelled, her fingers going in and out. "Oh my god, you're splitting me apart with your big cock."

"Take it baby. Open up for me," I yelled, pumping my cock through my tight grasp. I leaned forward so that my cock was just above her cunt. "Open up, so I can really fuck you."

Her fingers were going faster and faster and she was twisting her nipples with her other hand, her eyes fixed on my cock, her mouth wide open.

"Oh fuck me, Thom. Fuck me Thom. Harder! Harder!" she yelled as she placed a third finger in her pussy, moving her hand faster and faster.

My hand was going faster and faster through my clenched fist. "Oh god, you're so tight. I love your tight pussy."

She then brought her other hand from her tit and placed it on top of her other hand. I could tell she pressed her thumb against her clit because she shuddered and rose off the bed. "Oh, yes. That feels so good. Fuck me harder. I'm cumming. Oh god I'm cummmmmming. I'm cummmmmmming."

I was getting close too and looked down at her hands as I moved my hand faster and faster. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me," I yelled as I looked down at my hands and then at her hands. Our hands were fixed hard on what we were doing.

I was so hot and it was all I cold do not to push away her hands and thrust my cock into her. I wanted to fuck her for real.

"I want to fuck you for real," I said.

"No keep doing it this way. Please. I love this," she yelled. I want that too but we can't." Our eyes were intense as we looked at each other.

"Ohhhhhhhmygod, I'm cummmming," she screamed. "I'm cumming ohhhhhhhhhh yes. Keep fucking me harder harder." She lifted herself off the bed, her fingers going in and out. "I'm cumming. Ohhhhhhhgod I'm cummmmming again. FUCK ME! FUCK ME!"

My legs were touching her legs, spreading her wider. My hand was pumping away and my balls were hanging and swaying back and forth between my spread legs. I felt myself getting closer to exploding.

Hannah's eyes were on my cock as she screamed, "Oh, yes. I'm cummmmmmmmmmming again. This is so hot. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHFUCK!" and she fell back down on the bed, panting.

Just then I felt my sperm rising through me and I knew I was about to explode all over her, as I pumped and shouted, "I'm cummming, Oh yes, Fuck me baby Fuck me. I'm there. I'm cummmmmmming. FUCK ME! FUCK ME! HANNAH! FUCK ME! and yelled as I pumped my cock harder and harder. FUCK ME! YES OH YES FUCK ME! and suddenly I exploded, spurting hot cum all over her thighs.

She then reached down with her hands and took my cum and spread it all over he tits, rubbing them and moaning, "Oh I love this, mmmmmmmmmmm."

I then collapsed on the bed next to her, lying on my back, looking up at the ceiling.

"Oh, Thom that was so amazing."

"It was," I said, "considering we didn't really fuck."

"It still felt good, didn't it?" she said, looking over at me next to her.

"Yes, very intense. You're something else, Hannah." I said, wondering whether we should be using our real names here.

Suddenly, Hannah sat up and said, "Oh, I've got to go. I'm supposed to meet my boyfriend at 5."

"No, I don't want this to end," I said.

"I know. This is hard, isn't it?" she said.

"Very hard," I said. "How can you go from here to your boy friend?"

"I don't know. I can't explain it," she said, standing up and putting on her panties. She went to the mirror and straightened her hair.

"Hannah, I can't let you go," I said.

"Thom, I love being with you, but don't make this more than it is."

"I don't understand."

"This is play. It's not real. It exists in our minds, our imaginations and no where else."

"No this room is real, Hannah," I said. "We're here in this room. It might be a room we've paid for and don't live in, but it's real. I'm real and you're real and what we just did was real."

"I have to go," she said.

"Hannah! Come to the reading tonight. I want you there."

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Eight. At the main library," I said.

"I can't promise."

Hannah was at the door and I was still lying on the bed with my pants at my feet.

"Bye, dear," she said and blew me a kiss.

I just watched as she opened the door, waved goodbye and left.

I stared at the door, unable to believe what happened in the last hour or so.

I stood up, put on my jeans and stood in front of the mirror over the bureau, looking at myself, my shaggy hair and beard, my baggy sweater. I leaned forward and looked at my eyes looking back at me, shook my head and heaved a huge sigh, still unable to believe what was happening to my quiet life. I walked over to the window and opened the curtain and looked out at the city.

My reading was in three hours and as I left the hotel room, glancing back at the bed, I wondered whether I would ever see Hannah again.

CHAPTER TWO

I had agreed to meet my brother for a light dinner at Jewish deli near the library. I told him I had a craving for a big hot pastrami sandwich on real sour dough rye bread, something impossible to get in Maine. I had my poems with me and was glancing over them, arranging them in the order I would read.

When my brother arrived and sat down, he asked me how my afternoon was. For some reason, I still don't understand, I decided not to tell him about Hannah, though there was a moment when I was bursting to tell him about the amazing experience I had just an hour ago.

I told him I had a quiet afternoon, walking around and had coffee at a nice cafe called The Left Bank. I told him I wrote in my journal—nothing more. I wanted to keep Hannah to myself. I wanted to savor the reality she and I had shared and keep it a secret, as if putting it into words would tarnish it. I also knew that it was something Hannah would never talk about to anyone—her secret world. I guess I just wanted to keep our relationship secret too, something no one else knew, something only she and I shared.

While we were eating, my brother told me about his meetings and the project he was working on and though I listened, Hannah kept coming into my mind. I pictured her having dinner with her boyfriend, talking to him just as I was talking to my brother, but hidden inside of her, I was there—her secret lover.

After enjoying my delicious hot pastrami sandwich, my brother told me a little about the group I would be reading to, how he has known these people for years and they've been having these events at the library for long time. I told him how rare it is for me to ever go anywhere and how much I enjoy my quiet life. I told him about my philosophy to say "yes" when opportunities present themselves—as if they are God-sent. I also told him how I never have expectations and because of that, I am never disappointed and often I am surprised and delighted. It makes life an adventure—not having expectations, but my afternoon with Hannah was beyond any expectation I could possibly have.

Finally, it was time for the reading and we walked a block from the deli to the library. When we entered the room, my brother introduced me to some of his friends. There were about forty chairs lined up in rows and a small lectern at the front. The walls were covered with paintings and photographs. People were dressed in a variety of clothes—some men with suits and ties and others with slacks and casual shirts. The women too were either dressed smartly or in slacks and blouses or sweaters. I, of course, noticeably looked different—but didn't care. I don't even own clothes that would make me fit in—I was here to read poetry and not put on a costume that I wouldn't feel comfortable in.

I glanced up at the clock and saw that it was about time to begin the reading. I had hoped Hannah would show up, but she hadn't. I was resigned to the fact that what happened that afternoon was a once in a life-time experience and that was it—nothing more. I waited in a chair at the front of the room to be introduced by my brother. I looked around the room as people sat and chatted with each other. I looked over at the door at the back of the room then up at the clock. I thumbed through my folder of poems, feeling a little tense but excited to have this opportunity.

My brother went to the front of the room, thanked everyone for coming and began to introduce me by mentioning I live in a solar powered cabin in the woods of Maine and rarely leave home. People applauded as I walked up to the lectern and I nodded my appreciation and told them about this series of poems I have been working on based on a Greek myth.

Just as I was to begin, Hannah entered the room and stood against the back wall. My heart leaped when I saw her. All of the seats were taken. Our eyes met and she smiled, lifted hand slightly and bent her fingers with that small gesture of a greeting. I was stunned that she came, but happy.

Unlike many poets who are not very good readers, I pay a lot of attention to how I present each poem. I try to give a sense of the setting, where I was and where the poem was coming from. I become an actor and actually perform the poem. I was going to read for forty-five minutes and then answer questions for fifteen minutes, if there were any. Poetry can be very intense and I as careful not to wear people out. I thought of the old show business adage—"always leave them wanting more."

Finally, I came to the last poem I was going to read and said this is dedicated to a very special person. I described it as an existential love poem about illusion and reality and how we each create our own reality.

Before I read it, I looked at Hannah and our eyes met. I smiled and she smiled back, but no one in the room knew I was reading this poem to her.

I said the title of the poem, "Choosing an Illusion."

Here is the poem I read—

Choosing an illusion doesn't make my life less real. And if I care to sing Instead of crawling on my hands and knees holding up a bleeding heart, the sunrise still will sparkle on the lake and through the trees.

Morning has no pity as it marches through the sky. The choice is ours to shrink behind a rock, complaining until we die, or to let the imagination wink and look the passing heavens in the eye.

Noon comes fast and bright and shadows disappear at this hot hour. What mist was on the lake at dawn, will surely come again at dark— and so I dream: The sun that shines now on your lovely face will rise tomorrow from my lyric heart.

When I finished reading and people applauded, I looked at Hannah at the back of the room. Our eyes met and she placed her hand on her heart and smiled at me. No one else had any idea of what was happening between us and for a brief flash of a minute, no one else existed but the two of us—we had briefly slipped back into our little world, kissed and left to return to the reality of the poetry reading.

People mingled. A few came up to me and said how much they enjoyed the reading and thanked me for coming all the way from Maine. Hannah did not move from the back of the room and was observing the whole scene. I glanced up at her as I responded to the comments of several people surrounding me.

Just then Hannah came up to where I was standing and handed me a small piece of paper, smiled at me and left the room without a word. While a woman with white hair and glasses that hung from a thin band around her neck spoke to me, I opened the up the folded piece of paper and saw—"meet me in our room at 10."

I glanced up at the clock and saw it was 9:15. I knew the Concord Hotel was about five blocks from the library. Finally, people cleared out and it was just my brother and I left.

When my brother said we should get home, I had to think of something to say so I could meet Hannah and not reveal anything. I told him I didn't want to come home yet. I wanted to walk around by myself and think. I said after a reading I need to be alone and would he leave a key with the doorman in front of the apartment house.

My brother gave me a surprised look but thankfully asked no questions and said, "Sure, no problem."

Once outside, I said goodbye to my brother and we walked in opposite directions. I walked briskly in the direction of the concord Hotel, thinking about Hannah standing in the back of the room and how exciting and romantic it was to be handed that note to meet her in "our room." I was thinking—things like this don't happen in real life. They happen in movies and in books. In fact, this whole situation seemed like a situation out of a French movie like "Last Tango in Paris" and not part of the life a guy like me who lives in the Maine woods. And yet, here I was walking to a rendezvous with this exotic woman waiting for me in a hotel room.

Taking the elevator up to the fifth floor I thought about her wanting us to only masturbate with each other and pretend we were making love and whether this would still be the rule. These were her boundaries, her need to separate our relationship from her relationship with her boyfriend. I didn't know whether I would be able to honor that rule or not but if that was what she wanted, I would try. I have to admit I was baffled by the idea that if we weren't actually fucking, she wasn't really cheating.

I reached the room, knocked, turned the knob and entered but didn't see Hannah. I heard water running in the bathroom. The water stopped and Hannah came out of the bathroom wearing a short, sheer white nightgown that revealed her olive skinned legs. It hung from her shoulders by thin material and barely covered her breasts it was cut so low. l I could see her cleavage and nipples through the thin material.

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, her breasts pressed against my chest and looked at me. "You were wonderful tonight. I loved your reading, she said.

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

"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 said. "I never lie," she added, smiling at me.

"And you don't cheat," I said.

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

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

"Right," she said. "Here we enter our secret lives, our fantasies, as if nothing else exists."

She started unbuttoning my jeans, her eyes looking into mine. I took off my sweater and threw it on the chair next to e bureau.

"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, reaching in and touching my cock. "Oh, my, did I do that?" she said.

"Yes,"

"Oh, am I naughty?" she asked.

"You are very naughty," I answered.

"Oh and are you going to punish me for being naughty?" she asked. "Please don't. I promise I'll be good."

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

"No, tell me." she said. "Tell me what happens to naughty girls," she said, looking into my eyes. She still had her hand on my cock. Then she dropped it and turned her back to me. She then bent over, her short nightgown rising revealing her ass to me. She then moved back and wiggled her ass, pressing it against my cock. As she wiggled, my cock was pressed against the crack of her ass.

She glanced back at me over her shoulder. "Come on Thom, tell me what you are going to do to your naughty girl"

With my cock pressed hard against her ass, my jeans dropped to the floor and I stepped out of them. My hands were on her hips as she wiggled her ass against me and smiled at me, "You like me being naughty, don't you, Thom? You want to fuck your naughty girl, don't you?"

My cock was standing straight up and as Hannah pressed her ass against it, she moved it up and down, getting my cock between her crack--driving me crazy as she teased me with her luscious ass

"So, Thom, are you going to punish me or fuck me for being naughty?" she asked in a soft voice, as she wiggled her ass against my heard cock.