Unbeknown Desires - 01. The Tryst

Bright summer daylight streams through the hotel blinds, painting bands of glowing white against the neutral coloured walls. The soft hum of the air conditioning unit barely masks the sound of my excited breathing. The duvet cover is soft, almost silken under my fingertips, the fabric the same kind of neutral shade that makes the hotel room feel like colour has been sucked out of it, making it a strange non-space. A blank space where you bring your own colour.

I feel you shift your weight behind me, unseen. Unheard as well; no words exchanged when I entered, no greetings, no acknowledgments. Just a simple patting of the bed to indicate I should sit. I feel the warmth of your breath on the nape of my neck as you move closer, arms reaching around me. Your fingers gently tugging at the black linen sundress, pulling the hem up over my knees and revealing my thighs. I stifle a gasp as your fingertips brush my hips, as you hook your thumbs into my panties and manoeuvre them downwards. I pull them all the way off and drop them to the floor, a bright flash of crimson against the grey carpet.

Gently but firmly you take my wrists, guiding my hands behind my back. You do not bind me, and nor do you have to: I understand the expectation, and that's as restrictive as any cuffs. You part my thighs slightly, exposing me and the petite plastic cage I'm wearing. My eyes are already closed in anticipation, so I don't see you move the vibrator between my legs, and I jump as you turn it on and press it to the tip of my cage.

The thrumming sensation quickly flows through me, and almost instantly my whole body slackens, overcome with the wave of pleasure. I slump back against you, and your free hand reaches around to touch my throat, lifting my jaw. The warm glow emanates from my pelvis, pulsating outwards, and my sense of self dissolves in its wake; all other thought swept aside as my whole being is enveloped in a rising tide of bliss.

I'm startled by the sound of voices on the others side of the door. A muffled exchange in German, followed by the sound of a key card sliding in a lock, the dull metallic "clack" of someone trying to turn a locked handle. My heart hammers in my chest, and your hand slides up over my mouth and I am acutely aware of how loud my panting sounds. There's a soft chuckle: tourists realising they have the wrong room, the sound of another door opening across the hall and then suddenly all is silent, save the low thrumming of the vibrator and my ragged breaths.

You move your hand slightly down my face, so that my chin rests on your palm, and you part my lips with your fingers, and slip two of your fingers in my mouth. I react on pure instinct, sucking them softly, and for a while I lose all sense of where I am.

You must sense a shift in my breathing or perhaps a more urgent suckling of your fingers, as you move closer, pressing your arms tighter against me, a pressure that grounds me. A soft, keening moan escapes my throat and slowly rises, and you press down gently on my tongue. My back arches as you push my hips downwards with your forearm, preventing my from moving away from the buzzing toy as I start to writhe. Suddenly the orgasm crashes over me, and I buck against you as hold me in place, my arms still behind me, your hands gripping my jaw and waist, the rising moan shaken out of me as a series of breathless gasps.

You hold me there a while, less a tender cradling and more a firm restraint until the spasms subside and my breathing relaxes. You lay me down and for a few moments my limbs move slowly and listlessly, as I feel the wetness against my thighs and the duvet, and I idly wonder if my dress is untouched. My eyes close and I let my hand wander down my neck.

I hear the sound of a zipper, and as I open my eyes you're already pulling me towards the edge of the bed, leaving my head lolling off the side. The suddenness leaves me momentarily confused, as I try and understand why the room suddenly looks upside down, when you step into view, so close that all I see is your hips and your erect cock protruding from your open jeans. Without hesitation you are pressed to my lips, then in my mouth, and with my vision obscured by your moving hips, I close my eyes once more.

It's awkward position at first, and I gag slightly, but you are patient and attentive, making shallow thrusts into my mouth at first, and adjusting your angle. Soon you are making long but slow movements, and as I relax you're able to slip far enough in that your smooth balls tap my nose. Having found a comfortable rhythm, your hands slip down the front of my dress, fingers quickly finding my nipples, and as you tease and pinch them I let out a soft purring moan around my mouthful of cock.

I feel your rhythm quicken and I do my best to relax, to surrender to the moment and my role within that moment. And in that surrender there is a blissful relief; a slipping away of all my concerns and anxieties and complexities and in the centre of it all I find a sense of singular purpose, pure and simple. Nothing more than a font of pleasure; a body, a mouth, a coiling spring of lust and desire. Nothing beyond the boundaries of my own senses, nothing beyond the lust someone has towards me.

Without warning you withdraw from my mouth, the swiftness of the act leaving me unmoored. As I lift my head you quickly grab me and flip me over, pushing my shoulders down into the mattress. You move behind me, raising my hips, and I hear the faint plastic click of a tube lid. I gasp softly at the cool touch of the lube against my ass as you slowly circle your fingers into me, teasing me open. Straddling me, you grip my hips and release a quiet grunt of satisfaction as you slide into me, so deep I let out a surprised cry into a pillow, feel the clean cotton on my lips. As you pause, the air feels still and quiet, save for the sound of my shallow pants overlapped with your slow, measured breaths. I feel you twitching and throbbing within me, and for a moment I am convinced I can feel your pulse inside me.

You start to move again, the strokes so long and gradual it feels as if you're a mile long, and each time you slide into me it pushes every breath out of me, every word, every thought. Hollowing me out and filling me at the same moment.

Six, maybe seven leisurely strokes later, you shudder and hiss a word I don't recognise, as you twitch and spasm inside me. The pulsations in me are intense, and I struggle to separate the overlapping sensations, grasping at the sheets as each wave and thrust elicits not a moan but a soft whimper, a series of small rapid yelps. I bury my face in the pillow as the room seems to sway around me.

I lay there for a while, catching my breath, and when I lift my head you've already withdrawn, leaving me feeling empty. I curl my legs under me, feeling you leaking from me and lay there a while as you wipe yourself down with a towel. You sit down beside me and stroke my hair, the sole gentle and tender expression.

"I'm taking these" you say, as you snatch up my undies from the floor and stuff them in your pocket nonchalantly. You look down at me for a moment as if you had more to say, then you reach down to touch my cheek, and then press your thumb on my lips. You stare at me expectantly, and I gaze back at you as I part my lips and let you slip your thumb in my wet mouth. I suck on it for a few seconds, staring at you intently, one last moment of submission, though I'm unsure in that instant who is submitting to whom.

Wordlessly, you stand and step out into the corridor, closing the door behind you. I savour the moment, savour the calm and quiet aftermath like I could eat it, like I could bathe in that silent contentment.

I stand, and I clean myself up, straighten out my dress, and with the cool air conditioned air stirring around my bare, tender ass, I step out into the world.