One Night in Poughkeepsie

Note: This story has been submitted for the "One Night" event, organized by ChloeTzang, which called for Literotica authors to compose a story taking place over one night in a city or town of their choice.

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What's the most erotic thing I've ever done? Ha! Where should I start?

I'll tell you what. Do you remember Paul Freeman? I wouldn't have any stories to tell if it weren't for what happened to us that one night. I suppose that's how my whole kinky side came out in the first place...

I was back home for the wedding of my childhood friends, Cassie and Michael. Have you ever been to Poughkeepsie? Years ago, I'd have told you not to bother. It's not so bad now, what with the walkway over the Hudson and all the new restaurants and breweries. Granted, it's not the prettiest city and it certainly doesn't have any reputation for being the most exciting place on Earth. But then again, who really knows what goes on behind closed doors?

A bunch of us descended upon Poughkeepsie, gobbling up the discounted hotel rooms so we didn't have to stay with our parents or worry about getting home crazy drunk. It's always weird returning home after you've started a new life elsewhere. Many of us were ready to flaunt our glamorous new identities, the ones that developed since we got the hell out of there. We'd mingle with old friends who'd never left, equally excited to tell us all about how the city had changed and about the urban renaissance we'd been missing.

One thing would never change: it was still home. A home where the little legend I was about to produce would go on to live in infamy, twisting endlessly into all sorts of half-truths. That's how gossip works!

Cassie and Mike had a typical wedding. Lots of white. A choice between beef and fish. A panoply of flowers. I consoled myself with cake. You know how those things go when you don't have a date. I joined a group of unmarried friends and we just prattled on about the ones that were.

Anyway, part of me enjoyed those excuses to see the old gang because Paul was always there. More importantly, he was still single. We'd had a flirtatious thing going for years by then. Each time I saw him it felt like it progressed a little more. I wasn't sure where it was going, if anywhere at all. I gazed at him throughout the hotel wedding reception.

Eventually, Cassie and Mike started making the rounds for their final thank-yous, even though the drunken celebration would still go on late into the evening. I had my eyes set on another glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Then Paul and I crossed paths. I take it he was thirsty...

"Hi, Paul!" I said, cheerfully.

"Hey Amy!" he replied.

"So... crazy. I haven't been in this place in years. It doesn't look exactly like I remember," I said, putting pressure on myself to prompt some chit-chat.

"Yeah, they spruced it up a little bit a few years ago with a renovation but it's still an old relic... My room though-- wow!"

"Oh?" I said, wondering if he scored himself some kind of free upgrade.

"Yeah. There's heat... water. A beautiful view of the parking lot," he mused.

"Incredible!" I laughed.

"I know! I have my own bathroom. Oh! And get this-- a vintage lamp!"

"A lamp!" I gasped.

"And it's beautiful," he sighed. Paul raised his hands as if framing a picture. "It gives off this amber glow like you're in a field of wheat as the sun sets."

"Gosh, why can't all hotels be like that..." I gigged, delighted by his wacky sense of humor.

"Seriously. And the best thing is the bed. You've never seen such a thing. I feel like I'm a member of royalty."

"Aha..." I replied, trying to hide my smirk with a sip of wine.

"No, really..." He paused for a moment as if trying to figure out how to make a joke about proving it to me. I could tell he was a little nervous. "You wouldn't have any interest in skipping out on this party for a bit, would you?" he settled on, perhaps realizing how forward he was becoming.

"Oh-- um..." I mumbled, quickly taking another sip of wine, even though I had only just swallowed the previous one. I felt it rush down my throat, making an embarrassingly loud gulping sound.

What can I say? I panicked. I plain ol' dropped the ball, right then and there, turning against all my dreams and fantasies in one botched opportunity to communicate what I actually felt inside.

"Uh... maybe another time. I'm feeling a little dizzy right now," I stammered. After I realized what I'd just said, I actually did feel a little dizzy. "See ya later," I squeaked as I turned and darted around a table, leaving Paul standing there solemn and stone-faced.

I scrambled off to the other side of the room, feeling my heart thumping madly in my chest, immediately regretting what I just did. "What was I thinking?!" I thought to myself. I began to review my life, pointing out all the times I had been that much of an idiot if only to lessen the pain of what I had just done.

I found Alexis, Rebecca, Lauren, and Jacqueline standing in a circle by the dance floor and rushed over to join them.

"Don't you guys ever feel weird seeing the bride and groom off?" Rebecca was saying.

"What do you mean?" Alexis asked.

"Well, it's not like we don't know what Cassie and Mike are headed up to their room for... They're gonna fuuuuuck. And they're gonna fuuuck, and fuck, and fuck, and fuck." She sighed and took a sip of wine while everyone laughed.

"That's funny," Jacqueline said. "It's so true." I could see her helplessly daring to picture the lewd scene in her head. "Oh my god, I can't even think about that!" she suddenly added.

"... While we stand around here talking about it like losers," Alexis added.

Lauren lowered her wine glass from her lips, revealing a wry grin. "Speak for yourselves!" she laughed.

"Oh! Yes, good for you bringing the handsome boyfriend," Alexis groaned sarcastically. "Enjoy your fucking evening..." Lauren snickered at her.

"Uh, guys... speaking of which..." I said, finally coming to terms with what I'd just done. Everyone turned and looked at me. I could tell their interest was piqued.

"What?" Rebecca asked, impatiently.

"Paul kinda... um... just asked me up to his room," I replied. The four of them stood there motionless, staring at me as if I had cocktail sauce all over my face.

"And you're standing here with us for exactly what reason?!" Alexis blurted out.

"I don't know!" I exclaimed. They were instantly animated, exchanging looks of shock and shaking their heads in disbelief. "I don't know why I didn't go! I guess I panicked. Help! What do I do?!"

"Jesus, Amy... You better figure it out before I do!" Alexis quipped, her eyes suddenly fixated on Paul all the way across the room, where he had taken a seat with a bunch of our old guy friends. I slapped my forehead and continued to whine.

"Go back over there then. Tell him you changed your mind!" Jacqueline suggested.

"Yeah, like I'm gonna just walk over to him and say, 'let's go, hot stuff' in front of everyone..." I mumbled.

"Well, lure him away. See if he wants another drink or something," Rebecca added.

"He just got one," I said with a pout.

"God, Amy. You're crazy. Just go and figure it out," Lauren groaned. "You're horny for him, he's horny for you. Let's make this work." She secured the stem of her glass with her thumb so she could run a finger back and forth through the hole of her other fist in a suggestive manner.

I laughed. "Okay, fine... I'll figure something out," I said, not convincing anyone.

I wandered across the room, weaving in and out of the half-empty tables where small discussions were still taking place between family and friends. I ended up at the spread of hors d'oeuvres 'cuz, you know: food. I skipped over all the fancy stuff and arrived at a big bowl of corn chips and salsa that I couldn't bear to see go to waste. I started nervously munching on them, eying Paul from a distance. He was listening to an apparently amusing discussion, occasionally chuckling at someone's comment.

"God, you're so fucking hot," I mumbled to myself between loud crunches. I began to telepathically reach out to him. "Look at me, dammit," I thought. For some reason, I started eating the next chip seductively. I must have looked like a complete dork. "Look at me, the sexy idiot munching on corn chips in desperation."

All of a sudden he glanced over at me. He did a double-take, casting a look back and forth between me and those gathered around his table. I made another loud crunch. He gave me a funny look like he was confused.

"Shit, come on Amy..." I said to myself. I made a small motion with my hand, gesturing at him to come over. Paul raised an eyebrow. He turned briefly and said something to our friends, then got up and wandered over.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked as a small smile began to form on his face. I realized I had not prepared what I was going to say.

"Uh... so... I um... maybe said something earlier that I didn't mean to say..."

"Oh?" he replied. Paul looked like I had just resuscitated him from a near-death experience.

"Yeah. I think I tried to say, 'yes' or something, but it came out as 'no'."

"Really..." he said, drawing the word out slowly. "Would you like to try it again?"

"Yeah."

"Okay... Well... do you wanna skip out on this party for a bit?"

I put my wine glass down on the table behind me, wiped my palms against my dress, and took a deep breath in. "Yes," I said with a nervous smile.

"Well then, let's go... You can try out my lamp!" Paul laughed. He grabbed my hand and quickly led us toward the exit as if afraid I would change my mind.

I glanced back over my shoulder. Alexis, Rebecca, Lauren, and Jacqueline were still standing across the room in a circle, babbling on about who-knows-what. Rebecca looked up and saw us leaving. She started jumping up and down and pointing frantically toward us. They all turned and I saw their faces light up.

Suddenly I was in the hallway.

Paul and I made our way through the hotel, back to the lobby, and stopped in front of the long bank of elevators. "I should warn you... I may have corn chip breath," I said, trying to make a joke. It wasn't funny. I just felt embarrassed and stupid.

Nevertheless, Paul laughed. "That's okay. I should warn you that I might be a little drunk."

"Clearly," I said with a grin, fully aware what had made him so bold at long last. "That's okay. Me too." The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. We stepped inside.

"Is that what this is about?" he asked, grinning back at me. "Are you trying to take advantage of me?"

"You're the one that invited me!"

"Huh. I distinctly remember you calling me over to--"

"Oh, I see. Trying to turn this back on me, are we?" We both laughed.

I felt myself becoming suddenly excited. So excited that I imagined this might actually turn out well after all. No. Excited is not the right word. I was horny.

Paul made me so fucking horny. I hadn't been that desperate for satisfaction since those lonely trips back home for the holidays where I lamented the lack of action I was getting at college. All I ended up doing was pulling out my old hairbrush, my favorite stuffed animal, a folded pillow... I even tried getting it on with my hilariously dick-shaped bedpost, despite once telling myself never to try that again. It was like I'd regressed to my awkward teenage years all over again.

Suddenly, we were at the door to Paul's room. He waved the key card. I saw the green light and heard the lock click. Paul swung the door open wide and stepped aside, waving his arm through the air as if to unveil the grand majesty of his rather ordinary room.

"Why, thank you," I exclaimed, attempting to waltz inside with a bit of panache.

To say that I was anxious would be an understatement. I was inside for no more than thirty seconds before I confessed I had to go to the bathroom. I was sure he could tell that I was a complete mess but I needed to lock myself in there for a few minutes just to work up the nerve to face the situation. I sat there on the toilet trying to sort out how drunk I was and if I was about to do something stupid.

Listening to the hiss as I emptied my bladder, all I could think was, "He can probably hear me." But for all I knew that would turn him on. "Whatever floats your boat, dude," I mused. "As long as this happens." And it was really happening.

I forced myself to go back out there. Paul was still standing right where I left him, stiff as a rod. His whole body, I mean... I realized that I had been so focused on my own anxiety that I hadn't noticed his.

"So... hey... um," I started.

He smirked. Little shadows formed amidst his smooth stubble. They weren't quite dimples but they were just as lethal. I walked right up to him, perhaps a little too close. That's all I needed to do, apparently. Suddenly we were at each other's lips. You know that feeling you get when that warm magnetism starts flowing back and forth through your body?

Yeah.

I gave into his kiss completely. My heart was thumping. For a moment, all my giddy humor vanished. This was serious. I had his tongue to prove it. After we finished sucking face, Paul reached around me and pulled me in close. I found myself drowning happily in the fading scent of his expensive cologne.

"This feels good..." he sighed.

"Mmm, yeah," I mumbled. "But if you don't let me go, I won't be able to tear all your clothes off," I added with a nervous laugh. There it was, back again. When I get nervous, I try to make a joke and usually make a fool of myself. I felt myself getting a hot flash as I realized what I'd just said.

Fortunately, Paul laughed and then let me go. I suddenly found myself in the precarious position of having to make good on my threat. I remember giving him a hard stare before I reached for his belt. All at once, I was unbuckling it and he was wrestling off my dress. I was popping the buttons along his chest like my life depended on it.

Did I say that Paul made me horny? I wanted to push him onto the bed, climb onto his body, and ride what I imagined was his big, beautiful cock in the same manner that Mabel Strickland once rode those bucking broncos on the rodeo circuit.

I felt him pop my bra, the rush of air on my nipples. He got my panties off and then tugged down his boxers. Naked as we both were, I hadn't even looked at his body yet. I wasn't yet done with his eyes. I felt penetrated by him already; deep, coffee brown, smooth as a fine cognac. They meandered downward. I watched them expand and evolve as he explored my newly-revealed secrets.

I touched his chest. Paul was solid, tall, and muscular. I felt myself tingling already. I briefly moved up against him. My nipples pressed into his flesh like darts. I felt the heat emanating from his body as I began to slide my hand downward, over his stomach. His bellybutton was a sweet curl vanishing into darkness. I followed a little trail of hair, leading downward...

And there was his cock. I slipped my hand over it, admiring the perfect grooming of his smoothly cropped pubic hair. I felt his long shaft interrupting my fingers. They slipped underneath to cup his balls, shaved so smooth and soft. I lowered myself in front of him, still frequently searching for his eyes.

There I lifted his long shaft and inhaled his musk. I felt him begin to swell. He lengthened in my hand, becoming steely hard. I watched that magnificent specimen try to escape from my grasp, ticking higher and higher into the air as it began to throb. I chased after it, aware of the silly grin on my face, but even more conscious of his elongated, veiny shaft, his thick girth, the soft blush of his bulbous, ridged cockhead.

I planted a soft kiss at the tip of his erect penis. Then another, caressing him softly and teasing him with the brief, featherlight touch of my lips. He began to shift his weight and sigh. When I'd had enough of my own cruelty, I finally wrapped my lips around his cock and eased it into my mouth, feeling the deep pulse of his arousal tenderly adoring my tongue.

I moved smoothly against him, gradually increasing my pressure and speed. I tasted the salty evidence of his pleasure as he swelled to maximum capacity in the warm hollow of my mouth. I heard the quiet moans escaping his lips as my tongue curled around his shaft and worked hard to polish him smooth.

Careful not to work him into too wild a frenzy just yet, I eventually paused and grinned up at him. He cast me a pleading, desperate look. But I rose to greet his face. "Yep, I just went there and did that," I thought. I wanted to congratulate myself.

He reached forward and slid his hands over my body. I felt him caress my breasts, gazing down at them lovingly and full of so much wonder. I shivered in response to his absolute astonishment, slipping his fingers over my nipples, delighted with their firmness.

Mild insecurity entered my mind as he lowered his eyes downward. I hadn't shaved but it could have been so much worse. Paul didn't seem to mind at all. He stroked his fingers through my pubic hair, then delicately parted my lips. I felt his fingers slide over my pussy. I watched his eyes dart back and forth, enamored by my silken flesh, already wet with anticipation.

Defenseless, a loud moan escaped my lips. Suddenly his eyes met mine. They sharpened. His eyebrows arched with a wicked determination. Without warning, Paul scooped me up in his arms and carried me toward the bed. I shrieked and wrapped my arms around his neck, glancing back as if I actually needed to be sure that the bed would be there to catch me when he plopped me back down.

I landed with a soft thud and allowed the abrupt contact to split my legs apart. He seemed thrilled by my boldness and hunger. Decidedly impatient, I wanted him to see me that way.

Paul gazed down at my expanding sex with a glow about him that I'd never seen before. His hand slipped down to caress my thigh as he moved toward the sensuous intimacy of my body that I had just presented to him. And oh god-- no guy had ever eaten my pussy like that before. He went into it slow. First tickling my inner thigh. Making me want it all the more urgently.

His tongue began its serpentine weave, with a teasing avoidance of my clit. I felt it slip across my flesh, splitting me open, navigating my slippery folds as I squirmed and tingled. Then he swept it across my burning nub and set my whole body on fire. He tortured me with brisk flicks of the tongue. He sucked at my labia, anxious for my sweet nectar.

I wanted him to worship and adore me to the point of drunkenness. I wanted my body to offer him nothing short of ambrosia from a goddess.

Oddly, I remember sinking so deep into the pleasure that he was giving me that these weird memories startled bubbling up through my consciousness. I kept thinking of all the times I had stayed at hotels like that one, imagining a guy picking me up at the bar for a risky, casual encounter. It never actually happened. I remembered how many times I had instead ended up masturbating like a loser on the cool white bed sheets, frantically whipping my hand between my legs as if aggressively trying to prolong that fantasy in my head rather than slipping back into the bleak starkness of reality.

I remembered all the other fantasies I had. Most notably the one where I cracked the door to my room open, peeking out into the hallway, briefly stepping outside without any clothes on to risk getting caught. I never understood why but that one always made me come the hardest. I felt the fear, the anticipation, the thrill of someone finding me like that and getting turned on themselves. It made me want to explode.

I wanted to explode right then and there, all over Paul.

But he pulled away suddenly, licking his lips with satisfaction and giving me a serious look of intense craving. He whispered, "Let me go grab a condom."