Yearning

Thanks to all those reading my story! I'm new to writing for this website, so your feedback and votes very much help me improve and I am grateful for them. This is a submission to the 2020 Summer Lovin' Contest. Unlike most works, this is a work of fiction that harkens to real events and is based on actual people and places. Said people in this story have given their approval and consent to publish the story- so if you feel it bears a resemblance to you and you've not read it yet that is pure coincidence!

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It was still early, and the bright green light filtered by trees danced in the sluggish silence of the afternoon heat. The drowsy quiet made the experience of stepping into the waiting bath separate from the flow of time. Charlotte took her time lathering her body, pulling the sharp razor blade sensuously over the white foam and revealing the smooth, satiny skin underneath. She turned and knelt, breasts hanging into the water and a knee on the tub's edge, the slippery sensation of water sliding against vulnerable, bare folds.

Her mind floated in anticipation, and she hoped that her efforts wouldn't be wasted. It had been too long, and she did not handle abstinence particularly well. Thoughts of sex had begun to intrude into her day's mundane moments, making her incessantly aroused and causing her to become reckless in her frustration. It was not unusual to need to change her panties three or four times a day when they became soaked with arousal.

Her mind had drifted into a detailed fantasy at work yesterday, recalling a scene from an author she'd recently revisited. Afterward, she was mortified to discover her arousal had soaked through her panties, leaving a large, wet circle staining the back of her dress. One that would be easily visible to coworkers when she stood up from her chair. She'd had to tie her sweater around her waist and hurry home early before anyone had noticed. Yes, something definitely had to change.

She shivered as she ran her hands down her soapy, satiny skin, cupping her breasts and rubbing her legs together. It was pure sensuous torture, overwhelming, and also uncomfortably lacking, leaving her unsatiated. She released a frustrated groan before standing up to rinse.

That evening she was dressed casually in jeans and a long gray-lavender shirt, her long, dark-blonde hair up in a simple French braid crowning the left side of her head before winding down her back. Small, wispy curls escaped the braid, crowning her. Nothing would seem extraordinary upon the first inspection; nothing would betray how long she had spent getting ready to the casual observer. She sighed, staring back at her reflection in the mirror.

Her cheeks were rounder, and small creases highlighted the outside of her hazel eyes. She did not believe in the effort of makeup any longer, wearing her experience and scars with pride. She admired that she had retained much of her charm into her early thirties. Her figure was slight on top, but her backside was threatening to burst the seams of her otherwise loose-fitting jeans. She briefly considered changing but decided against it. She threw on a light sweater against the mountain evening before she swung into her car to meet Gabe downtown.

Charlotte had known Gabe for almost her entire adult life. They had dated briefly when they were eighteen, rebellious and reckless in the face of independence. She recalled their first sweaty interlude on his mother's couch with amused fondness. The sun had beamed down on them, and they had stared each other in the eyes, the moment ripe with unspoken promise. They'd left sweaty, wet marks on the new brown leather without feeling the need to immediately shrug their clothes back on to cover their nudity. For the first time in her life, smiles and tenderness interlaced the intensity of the physical act.

Charlotte had been his first sexual experience, and she had still been relatively innocent herself. She snorted, remembering the time her parents had caught them in her childhood bed, and he'd had to run out in the middle of the night. He was the only lover who'd ever been in that bed with her. In the hazy way of distant memories, she couldn't remember why they'd parted ways, but she hoped it might have had something to do with one of them moving away.

Ever since then, they had connected whenever their paths had naturally crossed, maintaining a loose and comfortable friendship in between. Whenever neither one was attached, they'd inevitably find their bodies intertwined.

Gabe had found a path forward and other partners to journey with him, overcoming the indelible marks of the many adults that had so utterly failed him. He had matured into an empathetic, passionate, and adventurous adult undaunted by his foibles and seemingly infinitely confident within his skin.

Charlotte's path had taken a decidedly bleaker turn. Sometimes it felt as if the choking tendrils of her darkness had woven themselves through her and become intrinsic to her very essence. When her mind's eye strayed, she could see the black vines weaving along her spine, shoots slithering out to cradle her ribs. Charlotte shook her head to clear the thought, preferring to hold onto the light-filled memories with Gabe.

Charlotte arrived at the restaurant about five minutes late after snagging one of the better, i.e., free parking spots in the small, bustling city center. Charlotte looked around, unsurprised that Gabe had not made it yet. It was his nature to run late, even more so than it was hers. She gave her name to the hostess and followed her to the table.

Charlotte looked up, alerted to Gabe's entrance when the street's chaotic noise spilled over the quiet music. She waited for him to catch up, surreptitiously sniffing his familiar scent when he wrapped her in a warm hug. The embrace was comforting, but it was accompanied by the inconvenient pulse of arousal given her heightened state.

She mentally cursed, exasperated. She had gathered that Gabe broke up with a serious girlfriend a few months before and might be open to rekindling their sporadic interludes. Still, she didn't want to strain their friendship with assumptions.

Charlotte sat down, her thoughts echoing with the chorus of her desire. She wanted something from Gabe, longed for it so acutely that it terrified the part of her still secretly convinced she was unworthy of good things. She wanted him to help her have an experience that she had never dared.

Charlotte was distracted by her nervous inner monologue, and Gabe had to prop up the conversation, an uncommon occurrence since Charlotte was very rarely at a loss for words. However, as the meal progressed, Charlotte brought her brain into the present, and they fell into the comfortable cadence of conversation between old friends, animated and affectionate.

Gabe shared the details of his life, catching her up on the highlights. He was still grieving for his relationship that had ended, but Gabe was confident that they would return to one another after some time apart. His goals for his life were clear and defined. Charlotte was warmed by the purposeful undercurrent in his statements; she knew that it was a sign of confidence in his plans and would bring him the opportunity to find joy. Still, she didn't ask the woman's name. Although she had recognized that aspects of their shared past had precluded any future together, her affection for Gabe provoked irrational jealousy when discussing the woman who held his future.

Reaching the end of the meal, Charlotte's nerves returned, vengefully churning her stomach and causing her fingertips to throb in time with her pulse. She was acutely aware of every detail about the man across from her. His vivid blue eyes seemed to reflect more wisdom, more nuance than the innocence of her memories. His honey blonde curls still refused to be tamed, spilling onto his face, eliciting the desire to wipe them aside and eliminate his need to sporadically toss them back with an impatient jerk of his head. His lips were full, and his smile provocative. Charlotte took a deep breath.

"Take a walk with me?"

"Sure," he replied, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

They left the restaurant, hitting a wall of hot summer night's air, as laden with humidity as Charlotte's nervous expectation. They meandered in companionable silence, observing the promenade of humanity passing by. Their hands swung, almost brushing as they strolled into the park by city hall. A band played bluegrass under the white cloud-like canopy of the public stage framed by pink terracotta tiles and etched marble architecture that soared up behind the stage towards the iconic city hall bell tower- the building a living ode to a bygone era.

Charlotte broke the energy building between their bodies and pulled Gabe down onto a black bench nestled in the trees' shadows that dotted the boundaries of the park. The deeper veil of darkness and drifting bluegrass created the illusion of privacy within the bustling square.

"I want to ask you something, and I'm not entirely sure how to go about it, so I guess I'm just going to go ahead and proposition you," Charlotte hastily breathed out.

Gabe raised his eyebrows, inviting her to continue and clarify. "You know some of what's happened to me, some of the things I've done. I'm not ashamed of them, but I'm so confused about what I want- if I'm even capable of unraveling everything. I'm not making much sense yet, am I?"

Gabe shook his head, "A little bit, but no, not really."

Charlotte sighed, starting over. "Let me try again. Although I know that in reality, Camila is just an aspect of me, I spent so long being her, I can't figure out what's me anymore. What it is that I want without worrying about pleasing the other person. I'm not even sure what I like anymore. I need to be able to know I can just be present in the moment and that I can open up to someone else and experience sex differently, without someone taking advantage and hurting me. Which takes a lot of trust and I need to experience it first to be able to trust someone new. And I trust you. Would you, ah, be open to trying this with me?"

Gabe took a moment to reflect before responding while Charlotte studiously ignored her flaming face and awkward delivery, nervously picking at the nailbeds around her thumbs. Which felt ridiculous to her. It wasn't like she was some blushing virgin. But she certainly was blushing. Finally, Gabe responded, "What do you have in mind?"

Charlotte's breath hitched a little, "Just going really slowly. If it doesn't feel right or takes me out of the moment, to try something else. I'm not really sure what that will look like, but I want to be selfish. Not ignoring your pleasure, but prioritizing mine. I want to be with you, not just fucking you. I'm really good at fucking, but I don't think I've ever just been in the moment with someone, really and truly. After, I can't promise that I won't feel attached, but I promise I won't try and keep you. I will let you go and be incredibly grateful and add it to the list of good memories. I think it will help me heal. And you'll be able to have something I've never given anyone else. For what that's worth. If that even matters to you." She could feel the heat radiating from her, blotching her cheeks and neck, her bare vulnerability physically manifesting.

Gabe looked at her until she looked up, holding her gaze in his. "I'd be lying if I said that I wanted to try making something work between us long term, and you deserve my honesty. I appreciate your frankness about what your expectations are." He paused, still pinning her in his gaze. "However, you also deserve pleasure. You deserve to be loved and respected. It would be my honor to help you find what you're looking for so you can trust and experience it again in the future with someone who can fully give themselves in return."

Charlotte's throat felt tight, and tears began to threaten, welling up in the corners of her eyes. She raised her hand and dabbed them with her sleeve, frustrated with the intensity of her emotions. She hadn't realized just how much she needed to hear that she deserved pleasure, that her pleasure mattered, that she mattered.

Gabe pulled her towards him on the bench, capturing her mouth with his. His lips were soft on hers and demanding, his hunger given free rein. A line of liquid desire sent a pulsing shock to Charlotte's core, making her unconsciously expel a moan into his mouth. Charlotte pulled away and stood up on shaky legs, flushed from more than the embarrassment of being so affectionate in a very public place. Another moment and she feared she would forget herself entirely, lost in the world they were creating and demand more without regard to any potential audience.

Charlotte instead took a deep breath to steady herself, reaching her hand down to capture Gabe's, pulling lightly to encourage him to stand and join her. He rose from the bench, and she exhaled her immediate question, "Where to?"

They looked at each other, both reaching a clear understanding of their predicament in unison. Her house was much too far away to be practical, and he was staying with his family where privacy would be far from assured. They burst into laughter. "Well, I hadn't really gotten past how to properly proposition you to hopefully make sure you either said 'yes,' or at least make sure that I could escape with a shred of dignity," Charlotte quipped.

After a moment's contemplation, Charlotte nodded decisively and pulled him up the park path. Gabe followed, pulling her close to him and circling her waist with his arm, sneaking lower for a quick grab of her ass that made her giggle. Two streets later, they arrived at a hotel. It was newer, and she had never been inside. Charlotte recalled something about a rooftop bar that people had been raving about. At the moment, though, it was more about proximity. They pulled each other, giggling like school children, into the lobby and up to the front desk.

Charlotte schooled her face to address the stern-looking, stiff gentleman in charge of the desk. "Do you have a room available?"

His name tag read "Pierre." He gave them a disapproving look down his nose. Charlotte thought that he was much too young to be so stuffy and cynical, but what did she know? "Yes, for how many nights?" He responded in a bored manner affecting a slight French accent.

Charlotte replied, "Oh, we're just visiting on our way through. One night, please."

"Very well, then," Pierre drawled. "License, please?"

Charlotte nudged Gabe, knowing that he would need to provide his. A local address would have them asked to leave. He was slow on the uptake but caught on and fished his wallet from his jeans with a puzzled look back at Charlotte.

They muddled through the transaction, Pierre radiating his righteous indignation at their obvious intent for the room. Stuffy bore. Charlotte found it humorous. If this was the most debauched iteration of a liaison occurring in the hotel tonight, she'd be damned. She bet Pierre would be horrified to know what sort of transactions were taking place under his very proper nose and absurdly false accent.

As Charlotte and Gabe turned towards the elevator, Charlotte glanced at the keycard. Room 514. Pierre's snobby disapproval had created awkward tension where they held hands almost warily in the strange pulsing light of the elevator, surrounded by the ubiquitous metallic scent and disruptive ding of passing floors.

Exiting, they navigated the arrowed signs to their designated room in silence. The green beep of the key-reader turned back to red before they opened the door. Taking the key to try again, Charlotte pushed the heavy door into the room and ushered Gabe through, following him inside. God damn it, how had it gotten so weird all of a sudden? She sighed, asking, "Why don't we just sit and talk for a moment and decide how things feel?"

Gabe nodded and plopped down on the tightly-tucked white hotel sheets and lounged against the pillows, turning to fluff them behind his back before settling back. He smiled at her with an air of deliberately cultivated confidence. Charlotte grinned in return and unceremoniously jumped onto the bed. The bounce shifted his careful position against the pillows and broke the tension as she crawled up and plopped beside him.

"How now, brown cow?" Charlotte teased. Gabe laughed and wrapped a friendly arm around her. She snuggled against him, sneaking another whiff of his cologne. They sat in silence for a while, warm and comfortable, but soon their touch began to morph again into sparks of tension. Charlotte's arm burned where his hand rested, irrationally drawing a line of arousal to her core. When Gabe's hand started to stroke up her sleeve, it felt so good she almost moaned. Her head turned to look up to his blue eyes, and Gabe leaned slowly down for a kiss, eyes smoldering.

When their lips met, Charlotte released the moan she'd been biting back. She met Gabe's kiss, tongue snaking past his to taste him, clearly announcing her intention to devour him. She nipped his lip, sucking it sensuously before shifting her leg over his lap to feel his growing erection through their jeans. His hands felt like fire as they slid under her shirt and explored her waistline above her pants, snaking up her back and pulling her against him, grinding his erection into her lap with a small groan.

Charlotte gasped, leaning forward to nibble his earlobe, sucking it into her hot mouth until he groaned again before kissing her way down his neck, pulling passionately with her mouth, foraging for his groans that echoed her desire. As she went, she unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his cotton undershirt instead of the skin she was desperate to taste. She pushed his shirt down his arms, letting out a frustrated growl of exasperation when the sleeves caught on his hands.

Gabe swept her up in another fiery kiss against his soft, sure lips, reaching between them to undo the buttons at each wrist and slip the shirt from them. As soon as his arms were freed, Charlotte pressed herself back against him, hands sliding up under his shirt's smooth cotton and exploring his firm torso. The skin of his back felt silken under her hands, the muscles bunching as he leaned forward to nibble at her neck. Charlotte leaned her head to give him access, demanding more.

Gabe's hands skimmed up her torso and along the line of her bra, outlining the shape of her breasts before embracing her to release the clasp. Charlotte impatiently peeled Gabe's undershirt over his head and quickly shucked her own, greedily pressing her bare chest against his and reconnecting their mouths. Charlotte mewled when Gabe's fingers found her nipples, rolling them firmly. A line of desire arced like lightning, burning a path to her clenching core. Gabe's mouth replaced his hand, suckling as she reached desperately to undo his belt while grinding against him.

Charlotte managed to release the buckle, staying focused on the moment and on Gabe, his eyes half-lidded in desire and utterly intent on her. She smiled widely, too aroused to feel shy. She backed off the bed, maintaining eye contact as she slipped off her shoes and shimmied out of her jeans and sopping panties, clothes pooling on the ground. His appreciative gaze followed her clothes to the floor. Gabe toed off his own shoes and socks and unbuttoned his jeans with insolent, smoldering energy. His eyes never left hers and a lazy half-smile turning up the side of his mouth. Her gaze followed his pants, appreciating the male form that emerged.

Gabe's cock sprung free of his boxers, saluting her proudly. Charlotte sauntered forward, wrapping her fingers around his shaft with admiration at the way they couldn't touch around his girth. He was just as substantial as she remembered. She smiled wickedly up at him, licking her lips before taking his head into her mouth, swirling her tongue before resting it in the sensitive junction with his shaft, flicking her tongue against it, devouring his groan as his hips bucked against her. Charlotte relaxed her throat, plunging to the base of his erection, licking the tops of his balls simply to prove she could, liquid slipping from the corner of each of her eyes with the effort.