Not Fantasy or Reality

I wanted to move fast; I wanted to fuck her face but what I was doing was too close to perfect. I watched myself stroke in and out of her mouth. I pulled out of her completely and pulled her face closer to me. She smiled and licked my testicles again.

She nibbled the skin between them. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. She took each testicle in her mouth and caressed it with her tongue. She bathed the entire area while her excited breath haunted me. I looked down at her as she licked the underside of my dick until her tongue was touching the opening at the tip. Her eyes were open and looking towards me but they were unfocused. She took me into her mouth and sucked the head of my dick.

I LOST IT!

She must have felt it because she let me out of her mouth. I reached down, grabbed the bar between the cuffs and tightened my grip on her hair. I spun her around and lifted her until she was completely off her feet. She let out an exhalation of fear and would have been pained by having her weight held off the ground by the cuffs and her hair if I had held her there long. The taste of the fear and the surge of adrenaline was enough for me though.

I threw her onto her stomach on the bed. I only gave her the slightest bit more momentum than dropping her would have but she let out another exhalation of excitement-laced fear. I grabbed her ass cheeks in tight grips and spread them. Her pussy was dewed with anticipation. I powered into her. I pulled back with my handholds on her ass until I had taken every bit of depth in Megan's body. I pulled back and fucked into her as hard as I could to make sure of it.

I let go of her ass and grabbed her waist above her hips. I was so hard that I did not feel like blood-engorged flesh; it felt like my cock was not even a part of me.

I used my hands to pull her into me as I fucked Megan. I put my foot on the bed so that I could really work my hips against her. I felt her pussy but only as a part of my dick. It felt like there was no separation between her body and mine. I powered in/out of her with no control until her orgasm tried to push me out of her body. I ignored her body's attempt but slowed down to longer, more purposeful strokes. The feeling of her wetness had given me an inch of control back. My head dropped back as the strokes gained power. I felt longer and thicker than I had ever been in my life.

I wanted to fuck Megan for the rest of the night exactly like I was doing. I grabbed the cuff bar and her hair again. I pulled on them to make her feel the bonds.

I used long, hard strokes that pulled me back so that my dickhead was barely inside of her.

I fucked Megan with long, hard strokes that pushed me inside of her, giving her all of myself.

She fought the hold on my hair when her orgasm began. She put her forehead on the bed regardless of the pain in her scalp and arched her hips back into me. I was as deep as I could go, but she wanted deeper.

I was wrong.

She wanted me to stop.

She came and her pussy squeezed me in a vice-like grip. I pushed my hips against her hoping I could give even my balls the feel of her pleasure feeding me sensation.

I could barely move while she came so I rested against her ass. She moved one of her hands to get my attention. It had been fisted the entire time.

She opened the hand.

A Vaseline tube rested in her palm, just like in one of my stories.

I took my hands off her and picked the tube up. It was small, definitely not enough, but it would make my fantasy possible. I felt like I was not in my body when I opened the tube. I was even farther away when I placed the tip of the tube against her anus and squeezed it empty.

I came back to my body as I pushed my middle finger inside her. She wriggled her ass on my finger, and I pulled it out. I looked at her back and removed my dick from her pussy. The cool air on me felt good but not as good as the warmth of being inside her. I grabbed myself and moved it up a couple of inches so that I was touching her anus with the tip of my dick.

I was so hard I did not need to hold myself as I penetrated her. She groaned in discomfort but did not protest. I forged into her after the thickest part of my dickhead passed her anal ring. I spread her ass cheeks with my hands and stopped halfway into her. My hands gripped her as hard as I could and I continued my motion into her. I felt my pubic hairs flattened by her body.

I pulled back a couple of inches and pushed back into her. I pulled back farther and gave myself to the forward motion.

I was close to an orgasm, but I wanted to enjoy the moment. I wanted to be able to close my eyes on my deathbed and remember what it felt like to be inside Megan's ass. I focused on untying the forearm cuffs to give myself time; removing them relaxed the need to pump into her.

I tossed the cuffs aside. She stretched her arms to her sides for a second and then put her hands on her ass. She spread her own cheeks but not to get me deeper. She ran her nails on her skin until she could touch my legs. I grabbed her wrists and she brought her hands up her body.

She pulled me down and placed my arms so that she could rest her face on my forearms. I was leaning on her with almost all of my weight. She moved her ass underneath me.

I pushed on her ass with my hips, relaxed and pushed against her again. I did not stroke to finish our union. I pushed against her, and relaxed. She opened my hands and kissed my palms.

I put my forehead against her and sighed. I sped up the pressure and release of my hips. Not fast enough to be uncomfortable though; she squeezed her ass cheeks together and took me over the edge.

Cleaning up required another shower, but it was less playful than the first. We kissed and washed each other but the kissing was the important part, maintaining a connection between us. She pulled me out of the shower and guided me to the bed. She lay down on her side and drew my arm around her waist. I spooned into her back and listened as her breathing steadied into sleep.

I do not know what time it was when we moved against each other again. Her fingers were stroking me. I opened my eyes and could barely see hers in the darkness. Her smile was unmistakable though. She leaned forward to kiss me.

I was hard in her hand.

I crawled on top of her slowly. The way she kissed was mesmerizing. She opened her legs to welcome me between them. We did not have to do anything to connect. Her legs moved up my body as I settled into her.

Her pussy around me took the ache of desire away. She wrapped her arms around my torso and squeezed me. We kissed the entire time that we moved together. There were no strokes instead our bodies danced to a rhythm we would not have heard if we were not joined. We moved against each other as if there was no goal.

When they came, I could not tell our orgasms apart.

The maid's knocking woke me up in the morning; I looked around knowing I was alone in the room.

-----

Monday night, I sat at my desk, long before our half-hour, waiting for her email. I even thought of getting an IM identity so our conversation could be more immediate.

"Did you like her?" was not what I was expecting.

"Did I like who?"

"The woman you had sex with on Saturday night."

I got up from my desk and walked outside. I felt the nausea of a migraine headache.

"It wasn't you?"

I hoped it was a joke, a bad one, but I prayed it was a joke.

"It wasn't in word only, Miguel."

I hated her, but I would not admit why I could.

"Who was she, Megan?"

"A friend."

"I need to know more than she was a friend!"

"She's been going out with her boyfriend for a year. He cheated on her; she wants to forgive him."

"I was her forgiveness?"

"That's not the way it worked out."

I walked back outside. The nausea had passed, but I wanted to kick my monitor. I wanted to break everything in my office, go home, and break everything there too.

"When did you know you weren't going to come, Megan?"

I thought I had the right to know.

"When you said okay."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to, but I didn't. My friend knew about us and said your fantasy could live."

I stared at the words until another email message arrived from her.

"I'm sorry, Miguel. I just couldn't."

Certain details in my reading have always stuck. I opened the email folder where I saved everything Megan sent me. I even knew which message I wanted.

I had asked Megan to describe herself.

Long, auburn, curly hair; short; freckled...
I put on weight really easily- I get muscley
if I stay active, pudgy if I don't...
Big dark-dark-brown eyes.

"Okay." I emailed her.

I pushed my chair away from the desk, tilted my head back, and looked at the lights. I laughed uncontrollably. I had to if I wanted to convince myself the tears in my eyes were from laughter.

I write erotica because I hate rejection letters.

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PART II
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I never thanked Megan.

-----

Megan and I did not mention our night together for months. I did not think she remembered sending me a description of herself. It was one of our first emails, and there had been hundreds since. Not knowing what she looked like helped me to be honest, so I had never asked for a picture.

Once I accepted her lie of not being the woman in the hotel room, I was happy to avoid the subject. I put a barrier between us, but she did not notice. I was no less open in my emails, but I double-thought each one carefully. If she had been in my life, she might have known, but from a couple hundred miles away, I was still me.

I met with Megan during the first semester of the MBA program; the experience focused me on classes and work. I increased the distance I kept people at; most did not notice because my socializing had always been forced. My writing suffered immediately after our night together, but it soon became my only release.

Five months later, she asked me to write a story about our night. She wrote that her friend gave her the female perspective, but she wanted mine. Her words were almost regretful.

The request made me angry. I sat in front of my machine staring at the email. My eyes burned, but she would never have those from me again.

SHE HAD NO RIGHT!

I told her I would think about it. I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling thinking about it. I sat in front of my computer and started the story time and again. Each version was not about how I felt that night but how I felt about that night.

The story was a carousel.

I forced myself to write it one afternoon. The words surprised me with their venom. I deleted them and accepted I could not let it go.

Seeing her was where I had to begin again.

I knew her name, and the college she attended, which was enough to take to a private investigator. She asked why I wanted to find Megan, and I told her the truth.

She looked at me for a long time afterwards. She asked what I wanted to do. Like with Megan, I knew what she was really asking. I sat down across from her and smiled. Megan changed me in small ways; I did not have a natural confidence with women, but I learned to fake it.

"You're not planning to hurt her, are you?"

I laughed; she looked annoyed at my amusement. My smile was wider when I recovered.

"I liked my life before Megan. I really liked my life during Megan. I don't like my life anymore."

I felt her trying to get the upper hand with a rigid stare and silence. I liked silence; it reminded me that loneliness was comfortable.

"What are you going to do when I find her?"

"I need her to listen to what that night meant to me."

"And if she doesn't want to?"

I looked out her window before answering.

"It would make things easier."

"You would be happy with her walking away?" she asked surprised.

"You don't know me so I cannot expect you to understand, but it would be my preference."

"Why don't you?"

"Why don't I what?" I asked.

"End it yourself."

"I don't consider what she did a reason to."

She looked at me seriously. She wanted to ask more but agreed to do what was needed. She guided me out of the office and closed the door behind me.

I touched the door and smiled.

She mailed me a package two weeks later. I opened it in my office and the first thing that came out was a picture of Megan standing outside a building with another woman. Megan's face was circled in red. I did not have to read anything; Megan's dorm and room number were highlighted on one of the papers. I knew she had a single so getting her alone was not a concern.

I sat in my chair staring at her picture.

The long drive to the visitor's parking lot at her school gave me a lot of time to think about the plans I had made.

I lived in the dorm two years while in college; getting inside without being noticed requires timing. I walked in behind a group of kids trying to continue a party at the dorm. The girl signing people in did not question when I motioned I was part of the crowd. Timing not only required the crowd but for it to be late enough for the girl to be almost off-shift.

Megan wrote in an email she did not lock her door; something else I did not have to worry about. Some of the girls looked at me strangely, but a warm smile relaxed them. I knew where I was heading so they did not question my presence. I waited for her hallway to clear before I opened the door.

There was no noise as I opened it wide enough to slip inside. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I smiled; people criticized the simplicity of certain things in my stories. I had just proven how easy the right information made things.

I was taking chances, but I stopped caring when she asked me to write the story. Being stopped at any step would have forced a face-to-face confrontation but that was Plan B. I was going to put my fate in Megan's hands anyway, so on whose terms was irrelevant.

My eyes adjusted; I saw her on the bed.

Providence was smiling.

I walked to the side of the bed and looked down at her. The light from outside was enough for me to recognize her. I wanted to be sure the investigator got it right.

She was wearing the panties she had worn our night together. I might have changed my mind; it might have been enough to be in the same room while she slept. The panties took me back to waking up to the maid knocking. She was not wearing anything else.

I admired the rise and fall of her breasts as she slept peacefully.

I had prepared the ropes and their knots the week before. I was good at research and tying a woman down was a popular Internet subject. I tied the four ropes to her bed carefully. She moved when I looped her wrists and ankles. I waited with bated breath as her body relaxed. The knots would tighten with pulling pressure so her first reaction would imprison her. The blindfold took minutes to put on her. Twice she almost woke up, but finally, I was sure her eyes opening would gain her nothing.

The gag was the tough part. I had chosen a simple leather strip gag; I only needed initial silence and it was the easiest to put on if she woke up. I fit the leather strip in sideways between her teeth. I felt her waking up so I turned it, pulled back trapping her tongue and locked it behind her head.

She had the natural reaction and the knots locked with her struggles. She fought harder and harder as panic took over her mind.

I knelt beside the bed by her head.

"Hello, Megan," I said clearly enough to penetrate her growing fear. She froze for a second before whipping her head towards the sound of my voice. She shook her head and tried to say something, but the gag cut her attempt.

"Do you know who this is, Megan?" I asked.

She shook her head vigorously. I looked at her hard; she had hesitated. Months between us, and I was sure she recognized me from the first word.

I put my hand an inch above her belly. I moved it down slowly until I could feel the heat from her body. She moved her head as if to look down to where we were almost touching. I settled my hand gently on to her tummy. She was warm, her skin as soft as I remembered. It was the lightest of touches, my fingertips and the ridges of my palm. I raised my palm up so that only my fingertips touched her. I continued the upward motion so that my fingertips trailed towards each other on her skin. My nails touched her as I drew my fingers closed against each other. I lifted my touch from her.

"What about now?" I whispered.

She turned her face towards me again. She hesitated, but this time I did not believe she was thinking about lying. She nodded her head slowly. The ropes tying her wrists gave her too much freedom. I had needed the extra rope to trap her hands at the initial looping. I gathered the rope until her arms were extended upwards and used zip ties to keep the excess together.

"I'm going to take the gag off, Megan," I said kneeling by the bed again. "You can scream and fill this room with girls, or we can do it my way."

She nodded but I did not know if it was to tell me she understood or that she had made a choice. I unlocked the gag and took it off her.

"Miguel, you don't understand..."

I interrupted her with a finger on her lips; my body itched to touch her. I outlined her lips slowly.

"You know what made me really angry?" I asked.

She sucked in air, and my eyes lost focus. Her lips opened, and I felt the heat of her breath. She let the air out of her lungs in a long exhalation that caressed the finger on her lips. Her body tensed and she pulled on the bonds. I watched her struggle for a couple of breaths. I remembered her fighting the bondage in the hotel room, not to free herself but to feel their enclosure.

My Megan was excited.

She stopped her motions but was breathing hard. She shook her head slowly. There was a smile barely touching the edges of her lips.

"No matter how much I... liked you," I said carefully. "I would have been okay with one night. You didn't have to lie about sending a friend. We could've had breakfast, and you would've been the best moments of my life."

"Miguel, please..."

This time it was a kiss that stopped her words. It was not the memory of our kisses, which had hounded me to sleep for months, but our lips touching again. She kissed back immediately, and her tongue sought more contact. I gave it to her, and she drank from our connection. I broke the kiss and rested my forehead on top of hers.

"You can scream at any time, Megan," I whispered to her.

I pulled away from her slowly. I sat down on the bed by her hip and waited. She felt the weight and looked towards me. I smiled as she tested her bonds again.

I touched her right hip just above the knot of her panties. She took in a breath and pushed her skin towards me. I played my fingers along her side moving upward. I went around the curve of her breast with my finger and spiraled it in a closing movement towards her nipple. I watched it harden as she anticipated the touch. I pulled the finger away from her and put it to her lips. She wet it with her tongue and drew it into her mouth. I pulled it away and placed it on her nipple. I circled her nipple and areola until they robbed my finger of her moisture. I leaned down and blew on her breast to dry them. She pushed up but I pulled away before she touched my lips. I blew a path of air down her stomach until I was above the waist of her panties. I put my tongue on her skin and trailed it to the left side. I put my hand on her left knee and ran my fingers up her side. I got to the curve of her breast and spiraled its center. Her tongue and mouth were waiting for my finger. I placed the wet finger on her nipple marking it with her saliva; blowing on it got the same reaction. I pulled away but reached down again to nip a trail of bites down the centerline of her body. I pushed her panties with my mouth to expose a little more skin and to put my teeth on it.