EIGHT
Saturday. 2:52am. Outside her room.
So I had a brief amount of time to think on the way to her room and I've come to a realization--it seems I have inadvertently allowed her to take the reins and have control of this entire situation. That was never the intent. At least not on my end.
As I stand at her door, I take a deep breath and come to the conclusion that this stops here and I take back the control that was mine in the first place. This is my thing. My secret. Just for me. No way am I letting her take it over.
I knock on her door and it takes her no time to open it. Her dark hair is in a mess on top of her head and I'm certain I feel my face fall as I observe her in the hotel-issued, white, terry cloth robe tied around her waist.
Instantly I'm annoyed. I don't say a word to her as I step inside the door and she closes it behind me. I'm done playing these games. No more. No more games, no more teasing, no more being vague or coy. "You said you were naked," I say to her, matter-of-factly.
She glances down at herself then back up at me. "Well, I--"
I don't wait for her to finish. I don't have time for another phrase I'm going to have to decipher. I step up to her and untie her robe and fling it open. It reveals her small, naked body underneath and I try not to be too obvious when my breath uncontrollably draws in. Well, she only half lied, I guess. I feel my pants tighten as my dick hardens and I struggle to keep it together. Control is the game here. And I intend to win it.
_____________________________________________________
Saturday. 2:54am. Taking what's mine.
She's speechless at my action and I'm glad. I'm not really in the mood for conversation right now. It's not what I came for. Placing my hands on her bare waist, she lets out a small gasp, obvious that she's trying to keep her composure. But she isn't successful in catching it in her throat and I pick up on it instantly. I pull her close and I kiss her, letting my arms wrap around her inside her robe. There's something sexy about her being half-clothed. I'm not sure what it is but I actually kinda like it.
She instantly grabs for the button on my jeans and I instinctively take my hands off of her just long enough to pull my shirt over my
own head. As we kiss, she slowly begins to step backward and I follow her, obvious she's leading me to the bed. It doesn't make a difference to me, we were headed that way anyway. This is the last time I let her take control. Just until we get to the bed--
_______________________________________________________
Saturday. 2:56am. And I've lost control again.
It seems I've underestimated her grace and her skill. Actually I wasn't aware of either one of these character traits until right this very second. Mastering the art of killing two birds with one stone, she tugs my jeans to the floor and follows along with them, wasting no time wrapping her lips around my dick. I suck in my breath deeply and am more than happy to let this happen. Goddamn she's good at it, too. I bite my lip and I moan as I watch her and it appears as if she's enjoying herself. Between how fucking hot she looks and the tricks she's doing with her tongue on my dick inside her mouth, I could just as easily come right now. Except, thankfully, I've been blessed with amazing self-control and I am not, by far, ready to be through with this yet.
I don't want to stop her. What I want is to let her suck me dry. However, I am a giver, not a taker, and right now I'd be more than happy to give her whatever she wants. I lift her chin gently to indicate that I'm ready for her to stop. Looking up at me, she stands up and lets the rest of her robe fall to the floor. I pull her close and aggressively take her mouth with mine. The way her soft body feels up against my bare skin keeps me turned on and I can't get enough of the intoxicating scent of her hair as my lips and my tongue travel along her neck.
Her hands gently explore my body and I can almost feel the testosterone raging through my body as they slide up my chest, lightly toying with my chest hair. Just when I begin to feel in control again, I feel the force behind her hands begin to press on my chest. Before I know it, I lose my footing and end up on my back on the bed, watching her crawl over me. Her eyes never leave mine and she has the grace of a panther. I can't believe how hot she is. And I can't believe that earlier on I thought that she was just "okay." No. This woman is fucking smoking. And maybe it's the current situation affecting my judgment, I don't know.
Positioning her waist over mine, she straddles me and begins to grind against my dick--skin on wet skin. She fucking feels amazing doing that and above my head, her fingers tangle up in my hair. She kisses me and then lowers her head to grip my earlobe between her teeth. Just her breath against my ear is enough to drive me crazy and, as if that's not enough, she reaches between her legs and grabs my dick, nimbly positioning it and lowering herself onto it.
I hear a moan escape my throat as she sits up and begins to ride me. I can't put into words how wet and tight she is and the way she grinds her hips and proceeds to work on getting herself off is almost too much to handle. I can't help it. I raise my head up to watch her. It's then that I notice the death grip I have on her thighs but she seems to enjoy it. She's not complaining. In fact, she's picking up speed. She's switched from grinding to bouncing and I can feel my dick quickly sliding in and out of her while I watch her tits move to the rhythm. It's like live porn. I mean, I've been in this position with my wife many times but it never was like this. I can't explain it.
Shit, let's not bring up my wife right now.
The faster she goes, the tighter she clenches her teeth. She loves it. She fucking loves my dick and I love her on it. I mean--you know. She knows what she's doing. The short, rapid breaths she takes as her head falls back and the groans that escape her only begin to get louder and louder as I realize that she's going to come any second. "Come on," I growl at her. "Come on..."
And then she does it. She lets out the sexiest, raw, rebel yell I've probably ever heard outside of a computer screen and all of a sudden I realize it's nearly gotten me off, too. Quickly I lift her off of me just in time for me to come on my own stomach. She collapses next to me, out of breath, and then suddenly she starts to laugh.
_____________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:32am. Moments after.
Laughing? She's laughing? Should I feel self-conscious about this? I look over at her and the laughing subsides. "Did I miss something?" I ask her.
Still smiling, she rolls over on her stomach and rests her chin in her hand. "It's a defense mechanism."
"Against what?"
"Uh, normally I can last longer. I feel kinda silly, luring you up here for, what, a whole twenty minutes?"
I search her eyes for a moment before I smile back. "Well surely you didn't see me complain."
"Well, no. I guess not..."
Just then, reality sets in and I realize the position I'm in. I feel the blood rise to my face and now it's my turn to laugh. Nervously. "Uh, I gotta go get cleaned up..."
"You know where the bathroom is," she says, matter-of-factly.
I make my way to the bathroom, picking up my clothes along the way. After a quick cleanup at the sink, I pull my jeans and shirt back on and step out of the bathroom. I see she has already gotten dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. Pink seems to be her color of choice. However it's while she's adjusting her hair when I see it.
__________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:39am. Disbelief.
"What is THAT?" I ask her. How in the hell had I not noticed it before? I had my hands all over her body earlier. My eyes took in every single inch of her. How had I missed it?
She finishes tying her hair up and looks at me blankly. "What's what?"
"THAT." I point to the large ring on her finger.
She looks at her hand and smiles at me, genuinely. "Oh that. That's my engagement ring."
"Your what?"
She's still smiling. My stomach is churning. "I got engaged last week."
"You...got engaged..."
"Yeah. You know how it works. He asked, I said yes..."
I'm still in shock. I shouldn't be but I just can't shake it. "Yeah, but...you're engaged..."
"Yeah and you're married. So what?"
"So...you can just go and--I mean after--"
She sighs. She's obviously frustrated with me and I don't know how I feel. Am I annoyed? Angry? Frustrated? Confused? Hurt? Surely I'm not hurt. I mean, come on...
"Do we really need to get in the details of this?" she asks. "I thought we were having fun. I mean, I don't ask you about your marriage or anything."
"I'm not sure I'm a fan of having sex with a person I barely know."
"You just did, didn't you?"
I have no words. She has a point. I struggle for footing. "Well yeah, but I was already married."
"So I'm not allowed to get engaged?"
"I guess I just don't understand it."
"Taylor, are you in love with me?"
Her words are so far out in left field that they completely catch me off guard. I wasn't prepared for THAT. "What? No! Of course I'm not. I love my wife."
"Because you can't fall in love with me. And I can't fall in love with you."
"Trust me. I don't love you." It's the truth. It's probably the most truth I've spoken since I started following her online.
"Good. 'Cause I love my fiancée. I won't leave him for you."
"That's perfectly fine. I'm not leaving my wife for you, either."
"Good."
"Good." I'm relieved that we're at an understanding, however, my curiosity still kills me. "So...how can you do all this with me and
still say 'yes' to him?"
She stares at me for a moment and then she sighs again. "I'm not trying to get all personal with you. But if you must know, then here it is. My boyfriend--fiancée--and I have an open relationship."
"Open..."
"Yes. Open. He travels for work. A lot. He's allowed to do what he wants and I'm allowed to do what I want whenever he's away. We always come home to each other. It works for us."
"And you--I mean it doesn't hurt you? Either one of you?"
"It's why we're made for each other. We both believe in monogamy, but we believe that monogamy shouldn't be treated as something that ties you down. It's natural for humans to be attracted to multiple humans. By simply acknowledging that, and letting nature take its course, we're eliminating the emotional factor associated in what most people all 'cheating.' For us, it's not cheating. We don't necessarily talk about our escapades with each other, but we both understand that it happens. However, at the end of the day, he loves me and I love him. It's just sex. That's it."
"And you can't just Skype or have phone sex or something?"
"What's the fun in that? By the time we see each other again, it's like having sex with a new person. Except that we actually WANT a life together. I'm not saying we're both whores or anything. It's not like we sleep around every chance we get. It's not like that. But if the opportunity presents itself, and we desire a person, we have that option to give in."
"That's the craziest damn thing I've ever heard."
"Says the married man."
Choosing to ignore her comment, I run my hand through my hair, trying to understand it all. "So...I mean, how many..."
"I don't sleep around as much as you may think. You're the first man I've slept with in at least six months. Well, besides my fiancée, that is."
"Six months? That's about how long--"
"Yeah. I kinda figured you out early on..."
"So are you telling me you're using me for my body?"
She looks at me and giggles. She has a cute giggle. "You're not using me for mine?"
She has me there. Because I kind of am. "Well..."
"There are no strings attached here, Taylor--"
"Call me Tay."
"Tay?"
"Yeah. Taylor just seems formal. We're far from formal at this point."
"Well, then. TAY. I am engaged to be married to the love of my life. I'm not trying to get emotionally attached or anything. The truth is, you're a hot piece. And the sex was kinda great. I wouldn't mind hooking up with you again."
Honestly, all I'm getting out of her little speech is permission. Before I can think about it, my mouth spouts out, "When?"
And then she shrugs. "Don't know."
And we're back to the vagueness.
Then she yawns. "But what I do know is that I need sleep. And you probably do, too. Thank you for meeting me at this crazy hour."
"Um...you're welcome?"
"Goodnight, Tay."
"Uh, goodnight."
_______________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:52am. And with that, it's done.
It's been an hour. I've just had some of the hottest sex I've ever had. Well, maybe not the absolute hottest. But it comes damn close. It's not like she pulled any acrobatic tricks or anything like that. I think it was just the newness--and the wrongness--of
it all.
She wasted no time saying goodnight, that's for sure. As I walk down the hall, I recount the events of the past half hour. Her getting engaged must explain why I haven't seen her online all week. And why does the thought of her marrying that chump still churn my stomach? I don't love her. I don't have feelings for her. Hell, I still barely know her. But I can't help but feel a sense of possession over her. She's part of my secret. She IS my secret. Mine and only mine. And now some man is going to marry my secret. It doesn't seem fair.
I get to my door and I stop short when Zac comes out his door across the hall. Suddenly feeling defensive, and afraid my secret is written all over my face, I spit out, "What the hell are you doing up at this hour?"
A look of annoyance instantly overtakes his face and he gives me the once over, his eyes landing on my feet. "Where the hell are your shoes?"
"Where are you going?" I ask, trying to change the subject.
He narrows his eyebrows in apparent suspicion. "Snack machine..."
"Right now?"
"I'm hungry..."
"Oh. Well, uh...just didn't think you'd be awake, I guess."
"Likewise..."
"Uh, okay, then. Goodnight."
"Yeah..." he simply responds as I unlock my door. I turn the knob and Zac has already made his way toward the alcove at the end of the hall containing the vending machines.
I'm not sure why I feel the need to watch him walk away. But now I'm feeling nervous. I feel exposed. Just judging by the way he acted he has to know something is up. Then again, it's four in the morning. We can't always be held responsible for the odd things we do at four in the morning.
Accepting the logic I've talked myself into, I enter my hotel room and close the door behind me.
Saturday. 2:52am. Outside her room.
So I had a brief amount of time to think on the way to her room and I've come to a realization--it seems I have inadvertently allowed her to take the reins and have control of this entire situation. That was never the intent. At least not on my end.
As I stand at her door, I take a deep breath and come to the conclusion that this stops here and I take back the control that was mine in the first place. This is my thing. My secret. Just for me. No way am I letting her take it over.
I knock on her door and it takes her no time to open it. Her dark hair is in a mess on top of her head and I'm certain I feel my face fall as I observe her in the hotel-issued, white, terry cloth robe tied around her waist.
Instantly I'm annoyed. I don't say a word to her as I step inside the door and she closes it behind me. I'm done playing these games. No more. No more games, no more teasing, no more being vague or coy. "You said you were naked," I say to her, matter-of-factly.
She glances down at herself then back up at me. "Well, I--"
I don't wait for her to finish. I don't have time for another phrase I'm going to have to decipher. I step up to her and untie her robe and fling it open. It reveals her small, naked body underneath and I try not to be too obvious when my breath uncontrollably draws in. Well, she only half lied, I guess. I feel my pants tighten as my dick hardens and I struggle to keep it together. Control is the game here. And I intend to win it.
_____________________________________________________
Saturday. 2:54am. Taking what's mine.
She's speechless at my action and I'm glad. I'm not really in the mood for conversation right now. It's not what I came for. Placing my hands on her bare waist, she lets out a small gasp, obvious that she's trying to keep her composure. But she isn't successful in catching it in her throat and I pick up on it instantly. I pull her close and I kiss her, letting my arms wrap around her inside her robe. There's something sexy about her being half-clothed. I'm not sure what it is but I actually kinda like it.
She instantly grabs for the button on my jeans and I instinctively take my hands off of her just long enough to pull my shirt over my
own head. As we kiss, she slowly begins to step backward and I follow her, obvious she's leading me to the bed. It doesn't make a difference to me, we were headed that way anyway. This is the last time I let her take control. Just until we get to the bed--
_______________________________________________________
Saturday. 2:56am. And I've lost control again.
It seems I've underestimated her grace and her skill. Actually I wasn't aware of either one of these character traits until right this very second. Mastering the art of killing two birds with one stone, she tugs my jeans to the floor and follows along with them, wasting no time wrapping her lips around my dick. I suck in my breath deeply and am more than happy to let this happen. Goddamn she's good at it, too. I bite my lip and I moan as I watch her and it appears as if she's enjoying herself. Between how fucking hot she looks and the tricks she's doing with her tongue on my dick inside her mouth, I could just as easily come right now. Except, thankfully, I've been blessed with amazing self-control and I am not, by far, ready to be through with this yet.
I don't want to stop her. What I want is to let her suck me dry. However, I am a giver, not a taker, and right now I'd be more than happy to give her whatever she wants. I lift her chin gently to indicate that I'm ready for her to stop. Looking up at me, she stands up and lets the rest of her robe fall to the floor. I pull her close and aggressively take her mouth with mine. The way her soft body feels up against my bare skin keeps me turned on and I can't get enough of the intoxicating scent of her hair as my lips and my tongue travel along her neck.
Her hands gently explore my body and I can almost feel the testosterone raging through my body as they slide up my chest, lightly toying with my chest hair. Just when I begin to feel in control again, I feel the force behind her hands begin to press on my chest. Before I know it, I lose my footing and end up on my back on the bed, watching her crawl over me. Her eyes never leave mine and she has the grace of a panther. I can't believe how hot she is. And I can't believe that earlier on I thought that she was just "okay." No. This woman is fucking smoking. And maybe it's the current situation affecting my judgment, I don't know.
Positioning her waist over mine, she straddles me and begins to grind against my dick--skin on wet skin. She fucking feels amazing doing that and above my head, her fingers tangle up in my hair. She kisses me and then lowers her head to grip my earlobe between her teeth. Just her breath against my ear is enough to drive me crazy and, as if that's not enough, she reaches between her legs and grabs my dick, nimbly positioning it and lowering herself onto it.
I hear a moan escape my throat as she sits up and begins to ride me. I can't put into words how wet and tight she is and the way she grinds her hips and proceeds to work on getting herself off is almost too much to handle. I can't help it. I raise my head up to watch her. It's then that I notice the death grip I have on her thighs but she seems to enjoy it. She's not complaining. In fact, she's picking up speed. She's switched from grinding to bouncing and I can feel my dick quickly sliding in and out of her while I watch her tits move to the rhythm. It's like live porn. I mean, I've been in this position with my wife many times but it never was like this. I can't explain it.
Shit, let's not bring up my wife right now.
The faster she goes, the tighter she clenches her teeth. She loves it. She fucking loves my dick and I love her on it. I mean--you know. She knows what she's doing. The short, rapid breaths she takes as her head falls back and the groans that escape her only begin to get louder and louder as I realize that she's going to come any second. "Come on," I growl at her. "Come on..."
And then she does it. She lets out the sexiest, raw, rebel yell I've probably ever heard outside of a computer screen and all of a sudden I realize it's nearly gotten me off, too. Quickly I lift her off of me just in time for me to come on my own stomach. She collapses next to me, out of breath, and then suddenly she starts to laugh.
_____________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:32am. Moments after.
Laughing? She's laughing? Should I feel self-conscious about this? I look over at her and the laughing subsides. "Did I miss something?" I ask her.
Still smiling, she rolls over on her stomach and rests her chin in her hand. "It's a defense mechanism."
"Against what?"
"Uh, normally I can last longer. I feel kinda silly, luring you up here for, what, a whole twenty minutes?"
I search her eyes for a moment before I smile back. "Well surely you didn't see me complain."
"Well, no. I guess not..."
Just then, reality sets in and I realize the position I'm in. I feel the blood rise to my face and now it's my turn to laugh. Nervously. "Uh, I gotta go get cleaned up..."
"You know where the bathroom is," she says, matter-of-factly.
I make my way to the bathroom, picking up my clothes along the way. After a quick cleanup at the sink, I pull my jeans and shirt back on and step out of the bathroom. I see she has already gotten dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. Pink seems to be her color of choice. However it's while she's adjusting her hair when I see it.
__________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:39am. Disbelief.
"What is THAT?" I ask her. How in the hell had I not noticed it before? I had my hands all over her body earlier. My eyes took in every single inch of her. How had I missed it?
She finishes tying her hair up and looks at me blankly. "What's what?"
"THAT." I point to the large ring on her finger.
She looks at her hand and smiles at me, genuinely. "Oh that. That's my engagement ring."
"Your what?"
She's still smiling. My stomach is churning. "I got engaged last week."
"You...got engaged..."
"Yeah. You know how it works. He asked, I said yes..."
I'm still in shock. I shouldn't be but I just can't shake it. "Yeah, but...you're engaged..."
"Yeah and you're married. So what?"
"So...you can just go and--I mean after--"
She sighs. She's obviously frustrated with me and I don't know how I feel. Am I annoyed? Angry? Frustrated? Confused? Hurt? Surely I'm not hurt. I mean, come on...
"Do we really need to get in the details of this?" she asks. "I thought we were having fun. I mean, I don't ask you about your marriage or anything."
"I'm not sure I'm a fan of having sex with a person I barely know."
"You just did, didn't you?"
I have no words. She has a point. I struggle for footing. "Well yeah, but I was already married."
"So I'm not allowed to get engaged?"
"I guess I just don't understand it."
"Taylor, are you in love with me?"
Her words are so far out in left field that they completely catch me off guard. I wasn't prepared for THAT. "What? No! Of course I'm not. I love my wife."
"Because you can't fall in love with me. And I can't fall in love with you."
"Trust me. I don't love you." It's the truth. It's probably the most truth I've spoken since I started following her online.
"Good. 'Cause I love my fiancée. I won't leave him for you."
"That's perfectly fine. I'm not leaving my wife for you, either."
"Good."
"Good." I'm relieved that we're at an understanding, however, my curiosity still kills me. "So...how can you do all this with me and
still say 'yes' to him?"
She stares at me for a moment and then she sighs again. "I'm not trying to get all personal with you. But if you must know, then here it is. My boyfriend--fiancée--and I have an open relationship."
"Open..."
"Yes. Open. He travels for work. A lot. He's allowed to do what he wants and I'm allowed to do what I want whenever he's away. We always come home to each other. It works for us."
"And you--I mean it doesn't hurt you? Either one of you?"
"It's why we're made for each other. We both believe in monogamy, but we believe that monogamy shouldn't be treated as something that ties you down. It's natural for humans to be attracted to multiple humans. By simply acknowledging that, and letting nature take its course, we're eliminating the emotional factor associated in what most people all 'cheating.' For us, it's not cheating. We don't necessarily talk about our escapades with each other, but we both understand that it happens. However, at the end of the day, he loves me and I love him. It's just sex. That's it."
"And you can't just Skype or have phone sex or something?"
"What's the fun in that? By the time we see each other again, it's like having sex with a new person. Except that we actually WANT a life together. I'm not saying we're both whores or anything. It's not like we sleep around every chance we get. It's not like that. But if the opportunity presents itself, and we desire a person, we have that option to give in."
"That's the craziest damn thing I've ever heard."
"Says the married man."
Choosing to ignore her comment, I run my hand through my hair, trying to understand it all. "So...I mean, how many..."
"I don't sleep around as much as you may think. You're the first man I've slept with in at least six months. Well, besides my fiancée, that is."
"Six months? That's about how long--"
"Yeah. I kinda figured you out early on..."
"So are you telling me you're using me for my body?"
She looks at me and giggles. She has a cute giggle. "You're not using me for mine?"
She has me there. Because I kind of am. "Well..."
"There are no strings attached here, Taylor--"
"Call me Tay."
"Tay?"
"Yeah. Taylor just seems formal. We're far from formal at this point."
"Well, then. TAY. I am engaged to be married to the love of my life. I'm not trying to get emotionally attached or anything. The truth is, you're a hot piece. And the sex was kinda great. I wouldn't mind hooking up with you again."
Honestly, all I'm getting out of her little speech is permission. Before I can think about it, my mouth spouts out, "When?"
And then she shrugs. "Don't know."
And we're back to the vagueness.
Then she yawns. "But what I do know is that I need sleep. And you probably do, too. Thank you for meeting me at this crazy hour."
"Um...you're welcome?"
"Goodnight, Tay."
"Uh, goodnight."
_______________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:52am. And with that, it's done.
It's been an hour. I've just had some of the hottest sex I've ever had. Well, maybe not the absolute hottest. But it comes damn close. It's not like she pulled any acrobatic tricks or anything like that. I think it was just the newness--and the wrongness--of
it all.
She wasted no time saying goodnight, that's for sure. As I walk down the hall, I recount the events of the past half hour. Her getting engaged must explain why I haven't seen her online all week. And why does the thought of her marrying that chump still churn my stomach? I don't love her. I don't have feelings for her. Hell, I still barely know her. But I can't help but feel a sense of possession over her. She's part of my secret. She IS my secret. Mine and only mine. And now some man is going to marry my secret. It doesn't seem fair.
I get to my door and I stop short when Zac comes out his door across the hall. Suddenly feeling defensive, and afraid my secret is written all over my face, I spit out, "What the hell are you doing up at this hour?"
A look of annoyance instantly overtakes his face and he gives me the once over, his eyes landing on my feet. "Where the hell are your shoes?"
"Where are you going?" I ask, trying to change the subject.
He narrows his eyebrows in apparent suspicion. "Snack machine..."
"Right now?"
"I'm hungry..."
"Oh. Well, uh...just didn't think you'd be awake, I guess."
"Likewise..."
"Uh, okay, then. Goodnight."
"Yeah..." he simply responds as I unlock my door. I turn the knob and Zac has already made his way toward the alcove at the end of the hall containing the vending machines.
I'm not sure why I feel the need to watch him walk away. But now I'm feeling nervous. I feel exposed. Just judging by the way he acted he has to know something is up. Then again, it's four in the morning. We can't always be held responsible for the odd things we do at four in the morning.
Accepting the logic I've talked myself into, I enter my hotel room and close the door behind me.