I’m late today. The friendly bar-keep slid my coffee across the counter with a smile and a nod and a look that said that I could suck his cock anytime. All I had to do was ask.
The hot-shot bankers are missing from their table in the middle of the room; probably out buying Porsches with their humongous bonuses, or mugging a homeless old lady for her pension.
A biker in black and blue leathers, his larger chubby cheeks and chin festooned with a beehive of hair is sitting in a corner, nursing what looks like a tall glass of lemonade.
I’m sitting with my back to the wall to stop people looking over my shoulder, and so I can see when my husband arrives. It’s his birthday and I agreed to meet him so he can buy me lunch. Afterward, he’s planning to book us into a hotel, so he can tie me to the bed and have his wicked way.
So on we go………..
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Those were the first words that came out of my mouth the following morning, when I opened my eyes and looked across at the man sleeping soundly and quietly next to me in the big bed.
Then more quietly, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
That was what I’d done – he’d done – we’d done.
As my head slowly cleared I recalled the other things we’d done. Things I’d never done with anyone; not even my husband. Dear God.
Embarrassment turned my belly to water and I felt the vomit rushing up to meet the back of my throat.
Rolling carefully out of bed, I winced at the pain in my lower regions, scuttled across to the bathroom and hung my head over the toilet, waited for the multi-coloured discharge. But a few measly drops were all that came up. Turning, I sat down on the seat and let the warm wine and the other forms of alcohol I’d consumed flow out of me.
Conscience screamed in my ear: Slut, slag, cheat, unfaithful whore, adulterer. The words buzzing around in my head like angry, carnivorous bees.
I was a married woman. I was supposed to be at home and in bed with my husband; in a single bound I’d evolved from faithful wife to faithless slut.
It was Saturday morning. Right now he’d be turning me over, his hand reaching between my legs and….. but here I was hiding in a strange bathroom, afraid to go out an see the man who’d stuck his penis in every hole I had.
I wanted to be in my own bed. I wanted to awake and find that it was all a warm, safe, innocent, erotic dream.
Unfortunately it wasn’t as easy as clicking my heels together and saying, “There’s no place like home.”
How long I sat on the toilet I don’t really know. It wasn’t until I felt my thighs going numb that I finally rose to my feet and reached for the toilet roll.
I looked at myself in the mirror above the sink. Self pity, wake up and slap thyself!
How did I get myself into this mess?
It would’ve been nice to say that I’d been drunk and that he’d taken advantage.
I’d been a little giddy – yes. But I’d been more drunk with the lust that flowed through my veins, suppressing any feelings of guilt that might have been there.
I’d wanted him; my God, I’d practically ripped off my own knickers and demanded he fuck me.
I’d never been so wet, so horny, so ravenously hungry to be filled.
The details rushed in like steam trains. The pleading- the crying- the ecstasy when he’d slid into me – pain when he first penetrated my….my ass. Nobody had ever been there before – now a man who was almost a complete stranger hand taken my bottoms virginity. And I’d liked it.
I felt humiliated and dirty’ but at the same time there was another feeling; the feeling that something wonderful had happened. That I’d cum more and with more force and joy in one night, than almost any time before.
Which as I write this sounds kind of familiar. In a plagiaristic sort of way.
Oddly, it was at this point that the question of where I was popped into my head. The bathroom certainly wasn’t familiar. In fact it looked approximately one third the size of Christian’s whole apartment. Sunken bath and variegated blue tiles completed the impression that we’d booked into a very expensive Park Lane hotel.
He had gone from the bed by the time I managed to coax myself out of the bathroom and crept back across the carpeted floor of the huge bedroom.
I was still looking for my clothes when the door opened and my lover of the night before walked in, dressed in nothing at all. His long muscular body moving with hypnotic ease, the pendulum between his legs swinging from side to side as he made his way toward me, bearing a tray on which were two cups and several plates.
He acknowledged my appraisal with a small smile, returning it in kind.
“Breakfast is served,” he said casually.
Embarrassed at being caught naked, I threw myself onto the bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin. Which under the circumstances, was like bolting the stable door after the horse has run off.
“I don’t quite know how all this happened,” I began, my eyes following him, like he was a cobra about to strike, “but I don’t usually jump into bed with men I met the night before.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said.
“I’m not really sure why I….I…I did what I did. I mean why I let you do-”
“I hypnotised you.”
“I’m glad you’re finding this all so funny.”
“Please, I’m not mocking you.”
“If you’ll just tell me where my clothes are, I’ll get dressed and go.”
“I don’t want any breakfast. I just want to go.”
“I’ll drive you, as soon as we’ve eaten.”
“I said I don’t want any fucking breakfast.”
“Well I do. And as I’ve gone to all the trouble of having it made, I think it would be rude of you not to even taste the lovely eggs Benedict, which is a speciality of the house. Anyway your clothes are being cleaned and replaced.”
“You were in such a hurry to get out of them last night, you ripped the buttons off your blouse. So I’ve sent out for a replacement. I don’t think it would look good if you went home in one of my shirts. Your husband might start asking awkward questions.”
He sat down on the bed and held out one of the wide porcelain cups. I looked at it for a moment, then reached out and took it, clinging to the sheet with my other hand like a virgin on her wedding night.
“You could at least get me something to…………….
Damn! He’s here already. Lost track of time. Almost caught with my knickers down.