Revenge

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A night of emotion-free, conscience-free sex.
862 words
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That's it. Done. I've had it. Tired of beating my head against a brick wall for no result. I'm tired of repeating everything, of pounding everything into his head, of having to be satisfied with less than I want. I'm going to go out and become someone else, just for the night, someone unattached, with no history, no baggage, no expectations. Maybe a nice, attractive, no strings-attached stranger. A fuck with no conscience. A little freedom from my life.

I go to a bar in the city nearby. Not a very nice bar, certainly not the place to go if you want to feel good about yourself the next day, but dimly lit and full of men in various stages of late-night desperation. I go in, looking for something different and dark, something to break me out of my routine. I pick a seat at the bar and order something strong; I want a pleasant, blurry fog to consume me. After a couple of them, the rough edges are beginning to wear away; I feel relaxed enough to look around and survey the crowd. A bunch of sad losers, mostly. Well, I didn't come here for class and sophistication, did I? I spot someone at a table in the back; he's nothing special, but not too bad. Maybe just the guy to take me out of my own head.

I walk over to his table and sit down without asking, something I've never even thought of doing before. I'm pretending to be someone else, someone with confidence, who goes after what I want. This is the opposite of the real me, a role I'm playing. I introduce myself, giving him a name as fake as my persona. He gives me a name, probably fake as well, but it doesn't matter in this game we're playing.

We make a little small talk, just to fill the silence. I'm torn between wanting to pretend this is a conversation we are having on a date, and just wanting to get on with it. He seems to be thinking the same thing. We chat about the weather, the food, the bar, but we both know what the other is thinking beneath the surface. After a minute, I decide to take the lead. I stand up and say "let's go". He grabs me by the hand and pulls me out of the bar, up the street, to the chain hotel on the next block. He registers us at the front desk; clearly he has done this before. I feel the first bit of contempt for the type of person he seems to be, but then I realize that I have become that sot of person too.

We head to the elevator and get in. On the way up he pushes me up against the wall and kisses me hard, almost viciously. No warmth or emotional connection at all. Just what I want for tonight. I feel my body start to respond, the pure animal, physical desire blocks out all of my rational thought of the risks, the consequences, the aftermath. He squeezes my breasts through the fabric of my blouse. He shoves his knee between my legs to open them to his touch. By the time we reach our floor, I feel handled, almost bruised.

When we get out of the elevator, disheveled, we hurry down the hall to the room. He unlocks the door and pulls me inside. In a second I'm lying in the bed, skirt hiked up, with his knees forcing my legs apart again; this time he move his hand up to feel me, to tease me, to slip a finger inside, then two, feeling the wetness he's caused. He moves them in and out, more a gesture of possession than of pleasuring me. It pleasures me anyway though; I lift my hips to meet his thrusts. We stay like that until I feel close to climax, when he abruptly stops. "Get on all fours" he growls. I do; It doesn't occur to me to refuse. I hear him unzipping and unsnapping in the dark room, and suddenly his cock is in my mouth. One part of my mind starts to panic, but the other part realizes that this is exactly what I came here for.

I try not to choke as he fucks my mouth. I think he is going to come this way, and I get ready to swallow, but he pulls out and positions himself behind me, entering me in one swift stroke. I gasp as he bites my neck and plunges hard. No words, just grunts and moans and half-articulated syllables. The physical sensations are nothing compared to the psychological ones- the secrecy, the danger of getting caught, being used for someone else's pleasure. I climax almost right away from the mix of it all. He holds me down and keeps going, harder and faster. Finally I feel him give one last huge thrust into me. He stays inside me for a minute, relaxing, then pulls out, zips his pants, and leaves without another word, leaving me with all of the thoughts and emotions swirling around in my head.

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