Trace Jill’s legs with your eyes, and tell me that they don’t resemble a bow, not unlike one you’d find on a birthday present, perhaps handmade from ribbon and just begging to be undone.
See who else is being sinful at Molly’s Daily Kiss!
Part II: Giving In
(Part I can be found here.)
He led her to a silk-brocade sofa close to the window, and indicated that she should take a seat. She ignored his gesture and kissed him at long last, casting her arms around his neck and pulling him close to her. Following her lead, he pressed his mouth to hers, his hands moving slowly down her body. She opened her mouth, her tongue slipping sneakily into his.
His hand settled into the warmth between her legs, and he pressed his palm against her. Her body tensed with pleasure as his fingers deftly caressed her vulva through her dress and her panties. She moaned breathlessly as their mouths finally parted, his lips coming to rest on her neck. He kissed her hungrily, with a passion forged in fire. He didn’t linger in one spot too long, she noticed, and she enjoyed that. Rather than focusing on one area he kissed a sexy trail along her bare flesh.
At the same time he began to gather up her dress, revealing her long, smooth legs as his hands ascended. She sighed as she felt his fingers brushing her skin, and when he reached her panties her heart skipped a beat. For an instant, she wondered if he could feel how aroused she was. Then he pulled her panties aside and began to caress her lips.
An electrical charge shot through Becca’s body. His movements were slow and deliberate. Long strokes stopped teasingly short of her clitoris, each one making her wish he’d touch it. At the same time his lips grazed her neck and shoulders.
“Wait,” she said, her voice a whisper, and when he paused she pulled the dress up over her head and tossed it to the ground. She could feel his eyes drinking in the sight of her body, but only for the briefest of moments before he leaned in close once again and took her in his arms. The kiss was hard, intense, and unforgiving. As his fingers resumed their place between her legs she began to grope blindly against his jeans, struggling to unbuckle his belt.
As she managed to slip the leather through the buckle she felt him finally make contact with her swollen, aching clit. Pleasure shot through her like a bolt of lightning and her legs wobbled. His fingers cradled the pink bud, rotating slowly. As her arousal grew even larger, washing over Becca’s entire body, she moved to open his jeans but he stopped her.
“Right now,” he said, “it’s all about you.” Then he began to lead her back to the bed. On the way she slid off her panties and left them forgotten on the floor. Before she knew it, she lay against the duvet, his hands petting her thighs. She looked up as he gazed down at her, unable to mask the white-hot desire in her eyes. She needed to feel him closer than he already was. She wanted to sit up and kiss him again, then take off that T-shirt and caress his broad, muscled chest.
As though he could read her mind, he stopped what he was doing and stripped off the shirt. She gasped at the sight, and reached up to touch him. He came closer, indulging her eager hands. His chest was firm, warm to the touch, and instinctively she began to caress him. She found his nipples to be responsive to her fingers, and he moaned softly as she touched them. As she continued up to his shoulders he reminded her that it was her turn, and moved back between her thighs.
Becca leaned back in anticipation of his touch. But rather than his fingers, it was his tongue. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt each long, slow lick. At the same time his hands reached up to caress her breasts through her pretty lace demi-bra. Her nipples stood up, rising to stiff peaks under his touch while her clit did the same. As he covered it with kisses and licks, she felt climax sneaking up on her.
“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly. “Please. Fill me up.”
It took a moment for him to stop what he was doing and Becca wondered if he was so focused on his task that he hadn’t heard her. But then he rose from between her legs and stood beside the bed. She heard him take off his shoes, and then he quickly doffed his jeans. She heard them hit the floor and then he was on top of her, inside her filling her just as she had asked him to. She gasped as she felt his thickness throbbing within her, the subtle curve of his cock stroking her in all the right places as his hips moved rhythmically.
She moaned, enticing him deeper with whispered words, and clasped her ankles behind his waist to draw him within. At the same time their mouths met again, locked together in a voracious kiss that she hoped would never end. His tongue lapped against hers, exploring her mouth just as his hands were now doing with her body.
He alternated mostly between holding her hips in place as he thrusted, and touching her full, heaving breasts through her bra. Why hadn’t she taken it off before he lay her down on the bed? She made a mental note to discard it as soon as she was able; there was simply no way to handle that task without putting the brakes on his wonderful ministrations.
Their kiss intensified. With each movement the head of his cock glanced against her G-spot, driving her ever closer to orgasm. She drew him even further inside her, first with the heels of her feet, and then with her hands. Her fingers dug into his firm ass, pulling with force and purpose. It wouldn’t be long now, that much was certain.
As she came, Becca let loose, gushing a torrent of wetness all over him. All over herself too; she could feel a waterfall on her thighs and her ass. She moaned without hesitation or restraint, without even a trace of self-consciousness for who might hear her or for the enormous puddle she was surely leaving atop the duvet. He moaned too, a long and lusty sound of satisfaction for the response he’d coaxed from her body.
He slipped out of her quickly, much to Becca’s disappointment. She was about to voice her protest, to ask him to come back, when he replaced his still throbbing cock with a very hungry mouth. Gone were the slow, teasing licks with which he’d tantalized her before. This was something entirely different. This was a man so aroused by her orgasm that he needed to lap up every drop of her before his hunger could be sated.
Once it was, he entered her again, and raised her legs up onto his shoulders. He gave her just a few seconds before he slid all the way inside, filling her even more fully and deeply than he had before. She gasped at his intensity, his thrusts slow and complete rather than quick and frantic.
She felt herself once again getting carried away. Her moans came quickly now, and she moved a hand to her clit intent on helping push her over the edge. Then she paused, and looked up into his dark brown eyes, seeking tacit permission. He smiled and nodded, drops of sweat rolling over his brow, and Becca began to play.
This time her orgasm was even more intense, though not as wet as the first had been. When it subsided he wasted no time before turning over onto his back, taking her with him. She straddled his waist, her thighs clasped tightly about him and his engorged cock still deep inside. She was wet, slippery, and began to slowly rock back and forth on his length.
He took her hands in his and pulled her down, kissing her with a hunger and passion she’d never known. As their mouths fused together his hands instinctively went for her chest. She sighed with pleasure, enjoying how well they fit together. For a moment she fancied that his hands were the mold from which her body was cast.
Without interrupting the kiss she reached back and unfastened the straps, freeing her breasts and letting the bra fall lifelessly to the surface of the bed. At long last, the kiss broke and he took her breasts in his mouth, first one and then the other before returning to the first and continuing the pattern. His lips were noisy, smacking and slurping as he had done with her pussy. He swirled his tongue around her nipples before enveloping each breast in his mouth. If there was a Heaven, surely this was it.
Without her noticing, his fingers made their way to her lips, opening them and strumming her still-buzzing clit. Her body sped up, her movements no longer slow back-and-forth rocking. Instead she was riding him like a woman possessed, grinding so hard that her next orgasm was ensured. With each shifting of her body he impaled her completely, rolling her engorged button between thumb and forefinger. This one was the most intense orgasm she’d yet experienced. Once again she soaked him, but he didn’t stop touching her, didn’t cease his thrusts, until the melody of moans and sounds of pleasure emanating from within her had ceased completely.
She collapsed against his chest, his cock still diamond-hard inside her. “I think I might have had two just now,” she said breathlessly. Her voice was excited, but faint. “I can hardly talk.”
They kissed again, softer and more sweetly this time. There was still a measure of heat to the kiss, but familiarity and comfort as well. She wanted to tell him how good it was, how it was perhaps the best she’d ever had. How no one had made her body do things like that before. But instead, when their lips parted, she moved next to him, lay her head against his chest, and listened to his heartbeat.
They lay together in silence for a moment, Becca hoping her own heartbeat would slow to normal. She hadn’t felt this way in a very long time, and the feelings she had for him scared her a little. It was all she could do to keep from climbing back on top of him.
“It’s your turn now,” she said, a wicked smile on her face. “I want you to come for me.”
“I will,” he said. “Believe me, I’ve been close a few times.”
“Time to go all the way,” she said, sitting up. She began to kiss her way along his neck and collarbones, then his chest. He really seemed to like it when she kissed him there; she knew some guys’ nipples were more sensitive than others, and she enjoyed turning him on this way.
Her lips made their way over his stomach, then kissed along the curve of his hip. He moaned, and Becca made sure to remember that he liked the way it felt. Next she started to kiss the inside of his thigh, but thought better of it and went instead for his cock. She knew he had been wanting to feel her mouth on him, and she saw no reason to make him wait a second longer.
He had been somewhat reserved up until this point, but as her lips enveloped him, he could hold back no longer. He moaned his appreciation, his body tensing up as pleasure overtook him. She moved her mouth up and down, swallowing him to the base and then slowly releasing. She couldn’t get enough of him; she wanted to feel his swollen tip at the back of her throat.
She began to lick him up and down with a spry and eager tongue. She listened for his breathing and any change in his moans, but he remained consistent. Becca noticed his hand gripping the duvet, his knuckles flexed into a tight fist. She smiled to think that she was the one doing this to him and continued, now pumping him quickly up and down as she ran her tongue over his head.
She took her in her mouth again, this time taking her as deeply as he would go, though she could only hold him there for an instant before she had to come up for air. Then she did it again and again, emboldened each time by his impassioned sounds of gratification. Rather than touching her – stroking her hair, maybe, or caressing the side of her face – he remained perfectly still. He didn’t undulate his hips or even tremble with delight, and he barely moaned. Becca realized that he was actively focusing on his looming orgasm.
After a moment, he spoke: “I’m close. Where do you want it?”
She stopped sucking. “Want to come on my tits?” He moaned his agreement as Becca stroked him in her hand.
“Get on your back. I can finish myself off.” She gave no indication that she heard him; she had taken his cock back in her mouth, intent on bringing him as close to the edge as she could before he pushed himself over it. It didn’t take long.
He warned her of his impending eruption, then hopped up to his knees as she rolled over onto her back. He took his cock in hand and rubbed it back and forth until he’d reached the point of no return. He moaned loudly and lustfully, the sounds of his pleasure filling the room. She held her breasts up to him, proffering them for his use. With one spurt, then two, then three, he painted her. He continued to pour out onto her like a canvas until she was nicely decorated.
His moans gave way to short, quick pants as his climax subsided, and his movements slowed to almost total stillness. Only the odd shudder remained as his body was wracked with the dying embers of his pleasure. He slid down to the bed, wrapping her in a warm, protective embrace as they lay side by side. As his chest pressed against hers, Becca could feel his thunderous heartbeat. His breath on her neck came in shallow exhalations as he slowly regained his composure.
“That was so good,” he said at last. She laughed, proud of herself, even as she felt herself blushing. “You know, I remember you telling me that you didn’t like giving blowjobs.”
“Not that I didn’t like it. I just…wasn’t comfortable doing it.”
“Well, you sure seem comfortable now,” he said with a smile.
“You make me comfortable,” she said, her fingers trailing his hip once again. It was true. He made her feel safe and secure, both physically and emotionally. She kissed him softly on his cheek, and he turned his head so that their lips met. The taste of his lips, the subdued introduction of his tongue in her mouth – all of it made her heart feel happy.
When their kiss broke he led her to the shower, a spacious cabinet encased in glass on three sides. He turned on the water and once it was warm they stepped onto small gray and white tiles, letting the spray cascade over them. But rather than washing they kissed again, hands once again traversing each other’s bodies. His hands found their way to her pussy, fingers stroking her clit with the circular motion she’d so enjoyed. Without warning, he pulled away from her, quickly turning her around to mount her from behind. His fingers continued their work even as he pistoned in and out of her, and he didn’t stop until they came together.
To be continued…
Welcome to our new home! We’re still unpacking a few things, but we’re more or less moved in and we look forward to entertaining visitors here for years to come. Note the rotating headers. There are sixteen of them, so refresh your browser often.
On Friday night I went drinking with a friend from high school who happens to work at Google. She knows nothing of the ins and outs of Jills and my relationship, or of this blog for that matter. Thus it was necessary – though difficult after several beers – to keep myself from telling her how her company had thrown the blogging community to which I belong into disarray.
Last Monday, February 23, I and many of my fellow bloggers who use Google’s Blogger platform received an email announcing changes to Blogger’s adult content policy. According to the email, as of March 23 Blogger would no longer allow blogs with “sexually explicit or graphic nude images or video”. It would, however, “allow nudity presented in artistic, educational, documentary, or scientific contexts, or where there are other substantial benefits to the public from not taking action on the content”, and if that doesn’t sound like an arbitrary distinction, I don’t know what does.
As of March 23, any blogs that contained the aforementioned graphic content and which were not deemed by Google to offer “substantial benefits” would be forced to go private, viewable only to blog administrators and those they have approved for access. It was claimed that no content would be deleted, however.
This isn’t the first time we felt threatened by our choice of blogging platform. In June 2013, Google announced plans to shut down any monetized adult blogs that used Blogger. We weren’t really blogging for pay; our brief tenure writing sponsored posts for a certain adult retailer that doesn’t deserve a shout-out had wrapped up long before, and at any rate, we removed links and references to the company from those posts. Still, the word around the blogosphere was that if Google was shutting down monetized adult blogs, their next step was certainly shutting down all adult blogs. It was simply the latest in a long line of sex-negative maneuvers by the status quo.
Unwilling to lose the years of writing and photography we’d shared, we exported our Blogger blog to WordPress. We declined at the time to self-host, opting instead for a standard free blog. However, it wasn’t long before WordPress announced that it would be shutting down all non-self-hosted adult blogs. So we abandoned our new abode after one single TMI Tuesday post – a lost TMI Tuesday, if you will – that will be posted here soon, and returned to our Blogger blog, taking care to ensure that nothing about it said “we get paid to do this.”
After more than a year and a half of blogging at Blogger with no complications, the email I received on the 23rd was most unwelcome, but perhaps it was a wakeup call. Perhaps if we had self-hosted back in 2013 it wouldn’t have mattered. But all I could think of was the extraordinary expense of self-hosting when blogging had always been – and perhaps should be – free. After all, we’d blogged without paying a dime since 2008. Why should that change just because someone high up on the Google food chain feels uncomfortable when he – certainly he, not she – hears the word vagina?
It became clear that the only way we could continue blogging and reach an audience doing so was to finally bite the bullet and self-host. While money is tight, I was more concerned with whether or not I could actually pull off such a move. However, many of my fellow bloggers offered encouragement, pointing out the relatively low cost of self-hosting, and the relative ease of making the change.
As I contemplated self-hosting, my Twitter feed began to fill with retweets from hosting companies offering sanctuary to those who would be displaced by the policy change. Tech bloggers and free speech activists wrote about the implications of such a move, with most decrying Google for the draconian measure. And the adult blogosphere itself was indeed thrown into disarray, some bloggers throwing up their hands and admitting defeat, and others like me planning to abandon the platform that had served them for so long.
On Thursday, February 26th, I received an email from Katie Notopoulos, Senior Editor of Buzzfeed. She was working on a story about the policy change and had found our blog listed on Rori‘s Top 100 Sex Bloggers list, as reposted at Innocent Loverboy. As our URL indicated we were using Blogger, she asked for some background on our blog, as well as our thoughts on the situation.
As this was the first mainstream media request we’ve ever received, I was only too happy to oblige. Here’s my reply to Katie’s email:
We launched our blog in September 2008. As we had been married just over a year, we thought it would be fun to have some ongoing record of our escapades. It was, and is, a labor of love; we enjoy writing for the blog, and did so even when we had very few regular readers. The adult content that we post includes but is not necessarily limited to photography and prose or other writing. We’ve written a few political posts, generally concerning sexual politics: Sandra Fluke, Republicans’ attempts to ban pornography, sexual consent, and use of the word “slut”.
I couldn’t possibly guess as to how many regular (or even occasional) readers we have, though according to Blogger our posts over the last two months have an average of 197 page views. Posts that we’ve done for Sinful Sunday, a weekly photo meme, received an average of thirteen comments each week since January, but it’s a relatively popular weekly meme and not necessarily indicative of regular blog readership. It’s also worth noting that we’ve blogged less actively the last couple years than we did previously; Sinful Sunday posts in 2012, for example, received between twenty and thirty comments.
We blog for a number of reasons. In addition to having a record of our sexual life both together and apart, we sought a community of like-minded individuals, i.e. those who view sex as a natural part of existence and something to be enjoyed rather than to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. The majority of those we know offline are far less candid about the subject, and it pained us to consider that those few who viewed sex as we do had grown more conservative with age or parenthood. Additionally, I enjoy writing, and I’m fairly certain that more people have read this blog than literally anything else I’ve written.
We’re upset by Google’s decision. It represents yet another example of society’s sex-negative bent, and it’s all the more disappointing considering that Google claims to champion freedom of speech. We find it especially troubling that the company’s Blogger platform will continue to allow explicit imagery “presented in artistic, educational, documentary, or scientific contexts, or where there are substantial benefits to the public”. Sounds arbitrary, doesn’t it?
However, we aren’t surprised by this turn of events. There was rumor that Google would be changing its policy in June of 2013, so we exported our blog to WordPress just in time for them to levy a similar threat at non-self-hosted blogs. We abandoned WordPress and resumed blogging in our original location, wary that they could change their adult content policy at any time. Now, however, it appears we’re out of luck dealing with Google, and are planning to switch to self-hosting through WordPress in the next week or two.
By the time Katie’s article was published, however, Google had posted a statement on its Blogger support page effectively reversing its position.
This week, we announced a change to Blogger’s porn policy. We’ve had a ton of feedback, in particular about the introduction of a retroactive change (some people have had accounts for 10+ years), but also about the negative impact on individuals who post sexually explicit content to express their identities. So rather than implement this change, we’ve decided to step up enforcement around our existing policy prohibiting commercial porn.
I woke to a message on Friday calling my attention to this latest development, and briefly considered staying with Blogger. After all, I could think of plenty of things to do with the money I would be spending on hosting, and what’s more I didn’t need the stress or headache that would inevitably come with moving our blog into a new space. But then I thought back to 2013, and I realized that eventually someone at Google would decide again to eliminate or otherwise diminish all adult blogs that use Blogger, and I’d have to go through all of this once more. It might be six months from now, or it might be a year from now. And they might backpedal again, or they might not. Or they might just arbitrarily delete my blog one day without warning. It’s happened to others, though whether accidental or deliberate based on content or other factors I cannot say.
That’s ultimately a big part of why Jill and I decided to self-host. It wasn’t as expensive as I thought it would be, and while it was difficult for someone with my limited acumen I had lots of help from those in the know, especially DomSigns, proud owner of Molly Moore, with whose Sinful Sunday meme you’re undoubtedly familiar. Additional guidance and support came from Cheeky Minx and Beck. If you are enjoying our new digs, be aware that they wouldn’t be quite as snazzy without them. In fact, without Molly and DomSigns, we would likely still be shackled to Blogger.
I am grateful to everyone who expressed support and offered encouragement and assistance, but more than anything I am happy simply not having our blog attached to the yoke of a major megacorporation, not having to trust that Google won’t delete our blog someday when someone who works for them has a bad day or simply presses the wrong button. That was always a fear for Jill and I, and it led me to back up our blog religiously. And while we will likely continue to do so, I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief, somewhat more confident in the knowledge that our blog is in good hands.
Lest it sounds like I’m painting Google in a harsh light, please know that nothing is further from the truth. I just don’t want to rely on them for my blogging livelihood. However, I will be forever grateful to them not only for giving us a platform in the first place, but also for the excellent Doctor Who browser game they created for the show’s 50th anniversary. Play it here if you’re so inclined.
Hook-ups: A cultural revolution
Hookups – brief uncommitted sexual encounters between individuals who are not romantic partners or dating each other.
Jack’s Answers
1. When was your last hook-up?
For the purposes of this post and my answers, I need to ask whether we are talking about one-night stands, or ongoing hookups (i.e. what is commonly known as a fuckbuddy or friends with benefits situation). Or are we talking about both? I feel like my answers are going to grow increasingly wordy as I try to answer the question in both ways. My last spontaneous hookup was…you know, it was more years ago than I can really recall at the moment. I’ve never had a problem with casual sex, really (though I find sex much more exciting when it’s with someone I’ve known to some extent beforehand, if only because it’s almost a sure thing that I’ve spent some time wondering what she looks like without her clothes, or what she sounds like when she comes). That being said, all of my extracurricular dalliances since meeting Jill have occurred with some manner of planning or at least forethought. Depending on how one might define the term, the last such hookup I’ve experienced was either a threesome Jill and I had, or a solo hookup, both of which occurred in December.
2. Briefly describe the hook-up?
The threesome was with the manager of a major chain copying, printing and shipping store. We were having a photo enlarged, and while waiting for it we struck up a conversation with her. When it was clear that the three of us were hitting it off well, she said that we should all go out for coffee or drinks. At the time we weren’t sure if she was saying it in jest, or perhaps to be polite, so rather than laughing it off I told her that sounded great. She quickly wrote down her number, and we ended up calling two nights later. We met at a bar, and after one round she asked if we wanted to go hang out at her place. Bear in mind that we really had no idea whether she was interested in us sexually – though she was very expressive with her body language, we didn’t make any assumptions. However, once we were at her place she became very flirty, especially with Jill. Things progressed naturally from there. As for the solo hookup, it was with a trainer at the gym where Jill and I work out. She and I had sex a couple times in summer, and I was pleasantly surprised when she texted me shortly before Christmas.
3. How did you feel physically and emotionally after your last hook-up?
Good and good. Triumphant. Not clingy or weird.
Have you ever held an Eroscillator on your clit while the Hitachi pressed against your pussy? It is indescribable.
See who else is being sinful at Molly’s Daily Kiss!
On Friday, the Sinful Sunday community learned that two regular participants had stolen all of their images from other websites. While I can’t say for certain how long the two had taken part in the meme, nor how many other bloggers they managed to fool, both also had Twitter accounts. I don’t know whether they used that site to share any self-portraiture (or any photography at all, for that matter), but it can and should be assumed that any information they tweeted was also fraudulent.
Your post must contain a photograph (original drawing and paintings are acceptable) that you took or that someone took of you.
Part I: Anticipation
Becca stepped out of the cab, her purse slung over one shoulder and her overnight bag on the other. She paid the driver through his open window, then bid him a good day. By the time he’d pulled away from the curb she was already at the lobby doors.
She wouldn’t have described the room as cavernous, exactly, but as she heard the echo of her heels clicking on the polished ceramic tiles she guessed that whoever first used that word to describe a large room was thinking of a place like this. Enormous marble columns seemed to hold up the ceiling like great stony arms reaching to the sky. Beautiful crystal chandeliers hanging twenty feet from the ceiling provided more elegance than illumination; each resembled a jeweled crown, but the real light came from a series of electric lamps that ringed the lobby.
The lobby bar looked warm and inviting as she passed. A dozen stools, five of them occupied, stood before a long wood-paneled counter. Four small tables with leather chairs surrounded the bar. A waiter in a classy black vest and tie carried a tray of cocktails to a couple sitting at one of the tables. She imagined taking a break from the evening’s fun just long enough to come down for a drink.
As she approached the front desk she passed the most peculiar piece of abstract art: A quartet of burnished stone rings, each placed at staggered intervals along a metal rail. Actually, “rings” wasn’t the right word. These were definitely hoops. They were big enough for the dolphins at Sea World to jump through. She looked at it for a moment, and it occurred to her that while it was an interesting piece, she couldn’t tell what the point might be. The meaning, if there was one, eluded her. Maybe it was just another expensive flourish, like the the columns and the chandeliers.
Speaking of expensive flourishes, a shiny black parlor grand piano sat near the front desk. There was no one playing it, but she imagined a tuxedo-clad pianist performing for guests during peak hours. Right now, the lobby was almost empty, and she walked right up to the desk. The clerk was a well-dressed, impeccably-coiffed young woman with a pleasant smile on her face.
“Good afternoon. Are you checking in today?”
“I’m actually supposed to be meeting a guest of the hotel. He said you’d have to call up to his room.
He’s in room…” She checked her phone for his text message. “Room 2704.”
The desk clerk indicated that she would need the name of the guest. Becca told her, and the clerk dialed his room. The conversation was short, then she replaced the telephone handset and withdrew a plastic card from behind the counter. “He asked that you be given a key to the room.” She placed the card into a small paper folder and wrote the room number on the outside. “As you said, room 2704.”
As the elevator ascended, Becca felt the anticipation stirring within her. Her panties were damp with arousal. She was wearing a maxi-dress that reached her ankles and it was all she could do to keep from hiking it up and taking off some of the pressure. She looked around the elevator for signs of a camera. She couldn’t see one, but in this kind of hotel it had to be there. That’s all she needed: To give some bored security guard the show of his life. She silently reminded herself that the years-long desire she’d felt for him would be culminating in mere minutes. Every fantasy that had ever passed through her mind was on the verge of coming true. She was closer to him than she had ever been before.
When he had suggested finally meeting, she was intrigued. She had enjoyed the casual back-and-forth that had exemplified their relationship: an email here, a text message there, and perhaps a Skype session when they wanted to actually speak to each other face-to-face. Meeting in person on a regular basis or even an occasional one had simply not been feasible until now; nearly two thousand miles separated their homes, and the stress of air travel wasn’t something he relished. The fact that she was a part-time student more or less ruled out the chances of her traveling recreationally.
He told her he was going to start a travel fund specifically for the purpose of flying out and meeting her. She found the idea and his enthusiasm cute, much like when a family puts money aside to take a vacation together, though this was hardly the same thing. Although she didn’t think he’d really do it, she enjoyed the occasional message he’d sent her whenever he added money to the fund. It took him almost a year after he first made the suggestion, but eventually he texted her the good news.
The doors opened onto the twenty-seventh floor and she stepped out. Her heels fell onto plush red carpeting and she followed signs to his room. As she neared room 2704 she realized that she was nervous, but it was a good feeling, not unlike when you’re at a surprise party and the unwitting guest of honor is about to walk through the door. She had been to many surprise parties, but none of them had ended up like she hoped this little party would end: With both of them naked, covered in sweat and tangled up in silk bedsheets as they lay intertwined.
She stood in front of the door to his room and brought the key card close to the lock, but she couldn’t make herself insert it. Was she supposed to just walk right in? She raised a fist to the door as if to knock, but then felt silly doing so. He’d asked that she be given a key, so obviously he wanted her to walk right in. She imagined him soaking in a jacuzzi tub and beckoning her in. Or maybe he was already lying in bed, atop the covers amidst velvety red rose petals. She imagined quickly stripping off her clothes and climbing on top of him, riding him energetically until they both climaxed.
She felt the anticipation building and quickly pushed the key card into the lock. A light beside the slot quickly turned green and she twisted the handle downward, to no avail. She tried the handle again, upward this time, then re-inserted the card. The green light came on once again, so she tried the handle. Both directions. No luck. She looked at the shiny brass plate beside the door and confirmed that she was in the right place. The engraved numerals corresponded to the room number in his text message. It occurred to her that maybe she was just going too fast for the lock to keep up; she was feeling impatient, after all.
She waited a few seconds to make sure that the green light had gone out, effectively giving the locking mechanism time to reset, and then she tried the key card again. When the light turned green, she took a deep breath. She slowly exhaled, then placed her hand on the handle but by that time the light had been extinguished. She let out a sigh of frustration, then tried again. This time the light flashed a disapproving red. The next attempt yielded the expected green, and she pulled the handle downward, then upward, all the while pressing her shoulder into the door.
“Oh, for – ” She gave up and balled her hand into a fist, rapping three times on the heavy wood. She expected him to come to the door in a bathrobe, dripping wet from the tub, and wondered what she might say to him by way of apology. She’d blame the stupid door, of course. Or the woman downstairs, who seemed so helpful but obviously didn’t have a clue about how to program a key card. Maybe it was her first day on the job.
She could feel her cheeks flushing, and tried to keep it together. No! There was no reason to apologize. He wouldn’t be upset that she couldn’t get the key to work. Even if he was mildly inconvenienced, he’d feel differently about it once he got a look at what was under her dress.
She heard a click from within, and the door slowly opened. The sight of him standing on the other side took her breath away. He wasn’t naked, or wrapped in a towel. He was completely dressed, in a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting T-shirt. He still had his shoes on, even. But the sight of him there, right in front of her, close enough to touch! Becca was fairly certain she’d never swooned before, but she was sure that this is what it felt like.
“Hi.” His voice was soft and welcoming, and he motioned her into the room. “They didn’t give you a key?”
“No, they did,” she said as she stepped inside. “I tried it over and over again but it didn’t work.”
He nodded as she spoke, considering each of her words. “That happened to me a couple times. It’s tricky. I’m sorry about that.”
She didn’t answer. She was too busy admiring the king-size bed. A wide and luxurious mattress was topped with an impeccably-fitted white duvet and three soft pillows, and the entire thing butted up against an oak headboard. Two nighttables flanked the bed, each with a tall porcelain lamp. All she wanted to do was pull back the covers and climb in with him; she had waited far too long to be restrained any longer.
This week on TMI Tuesday let’s talk sexual expectations or…
The act of sexually arousing your lover before you partake in having sex. The fore is derrived [sic] from before. Usually the woman initiates it by either giving the man a handjob or a blowjob.
I have no words.
8. Something I think about a lot related to sex is _____ .
How to have more of it with other people.
Bonus: Tell us something you love about your sex life.
Honestly, I’m just grateful that I have one.
In the U.S.A. there is a late-night talk show hosted by comedian/writer Conan O’Brien.
I had not seen Conan O’Brien show for several years. Recently, I decided to watch it and I heard these questions for TMI Tuesday.
5. You never forget your ____ .
Bonus: This week’s question comes from The Late Phoenix – “Why was fuck chosen as the ultimate swear word? It coulda easily been duck.”
I have no idea! I love to fuck and I don’t see it as a bad thing in any way. In fact, I can’t really understand using the word when you’re angry (although I do it myself sometimes). When I hear it, it almost always makes me smile regardless of the context, simply because of the connotation.
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link totmituesdayblog from your website!
