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Fuck Me Harder

The darkest desires can only be fulfilled occasionally.
The phone on my desk buzzes loudly, jolting me out of the mundane spreadsheet which I’ve been absorbed in for the last half hour. I glance around the busy office before picking it up and seeing your message. You always manage to hit me up when I really need a break. The message doesn’t say much; just a hotel, a room number and a time. It’s enough though. Enough to make me smile and start craving the end of the day. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Two weeks can feel like a lifetime. But we have to be careful of course. Always looking over our shoulders, making sure no-one’s there, no-one’s watching us. It’d be foolish to get caught. We have to keep ourselves covered. That’s priority number one. Everything else comes second.

By the time the clock finally signifies the end of the working day, I’m already in the elevator, pushing the button before anyone else can get in and slow me down. 7.00 pm, your message said, and I don’t want to be late.

I get home and leave my clothes on the floor in a trail to the shower. I hate office clothes. They make me feel so constricted. The warm water rushes down my body, washing away the stresses of the day, washing away the perfume and makeup, leaving me totally bare. A blank canvas; all ready to be made into a masterpiece for you. Only you.

I slip on a black lacy bra and matching panties. It makes me feel so decadent, like I’m totally indulging myself. There’ s no shame in that though. Lingerie like this makes me feel more feminine than athletic; it gives me curves and clings to them, silky and beautiful. I pick out the little black dress you bought me last month and let it glide onto my body. It fits perfectly; just like you knew it would. It’s the first time I’ve ever worn it and I’m already in love.

I have my heels already picked out and I’ve an hour to spare so I take my time with my long hair, experimenting, plaiting parts of it and leaving the rest loose. I do my makeup the way you like; natural and simple until I’m satisfied.

Grabbing my keys, I head out to my car, leaving behind the cheap apartment block. I don’t feel right, walking near it. I look too neat, too preened to fit in with the ugly concrete buildings and peeling paint. That’s what I love about being with you. I feel like I become somebody else; somebody glamorous and desired, not the kind of girl who grew up in and out of foster families, the kind of girl who’s always having to make a choice between eating and paying the rent.

I turn the music up loud in the car, trying to maintain some sense of calm. I roll down the window, inhale the clean November air, and let it purify me. I lose myself in the music and by the time I pull up to the hotel, I’m thankfully relaxed. I check my makeup in the rear-view mirror. It’s five to seven. Perfect timing. I smile to myself and walk past the bellboy and into the shining lobby of the hotel.

I head to the elevator. Nobody’s looking at me. That’s a positive sign. It’s busy. Well, it is Friday night. The elevator sweeps up to the fourth floor, delivering me to you. I step out uncertainly, check the door numbers to see which direction I need to go and then walk that way, unable to stop myself trembling a little. I find the door, and pause outside it. The wood is dark, the numbers golden. I take a deep breath and knock.

“It’s open,”

I recognise the husky depth of your voice and it makes my stomach tighten. I put my hand on the doorknob and turn it, pushing the heavy door open and stepping inside. It’s the kind of room I couldn’t ever afford. The kind only rich people would ever stay in. Gleaming windows with glittering views, floor length curtains, paintings on the walls, Persian rug on the glossy hardwood floor, four poster bed.

That’s not the reason I came though. Sure, it’s nice to act like a millionaire for the night, and the chilled champagne is always a treat but I’d settle for a public toilet, so long as you came with it. These luxuries are your preferences and I’m indifferent towards them. All I want, all I ever want is you.

You’re sitting in the armchair off to one side of the room. You’ve already uncorked the bottle of champagne; you’re holding a glass in your hand. Your feet are bare, your white shirt is hanging out of your pants and your tie lies on the floor beside your blazer. The top buttons of your shirt are undone, revealing the smooth, tanned skin of your chest. Your hair’s rumpled, like you’ve been running your hands through it.

You were probably stressed out over meeting me again. That’s understandable.

The tension fades when you see me though. Your sculpted mouth stretches into a smile, your teeth a gleaming tribute to American dentistry. You’re so fucking beautiful. I want to walk straight out of the door and re-enter with the looks of Rosie Huntington-Whitley, but then you say the words that suffocate my insecurities.

“You look gorgeous,”

My breath catches in my throat as you rise gracefully from your seat and come towards me. You take my hand and twirl me around, laughing as you do so. You look so handsome and carefree, it almost pains me.

“Do you want a drink?”

You gesture at the champagne bottle and I shake my head. I don’t want to wait; I don’t want to waste any time. I want to be with you in the way that I like best.

“Are you sure? It’s delicious.”

You raise your glass to my lips, encouraging me to take a sip and I do so, just to please you. You’re right, it is delicious, but I know that you’d taste better.

“I like your hair,” You run your fingers through the silky strands and smile at me, your eyes running up and down my body like you never want to forget what I look like.

“I like your hair,” I say and you grin, your eyes shining with humour and excitement.

You set down your glass on the table and pull me into your body, holding me close, your arms wrapping around me. My body melts into yours. I feel like I’m home. I can smell your sharp aftershave, the hint of stale sweat from the day’s activities. The stubble on your face is rough and coarse, your neck warm and comforting. You pull away slightly; run a single finger down my face and under my chin, tilting my head up so your golden eyes can lock onto mine.

We kiss, your mouth hard on mine, your hands on my ass, pulling me against you. I feel your need, your desire and it seeps into me too, making my kisses hungrier. I never want to be away from you. You make me feel extraordinary.

Exhilaration sweeps through me. Everything about you makes me want to smile.

“Take your dress off,”

You step away from me to watch as I hurriedly wriggle out of the dress and let it fall to the floor around my feet.

“God,” you shake you head as your eyes drink me in. “You’re even better than I remember.”

I feel the blush rise in my cheeks but before it gets there you pull me into you again, kissing me hard and passionately. I moan at the unexpected fervency and I hear you growl somewhere deep in the back of your throat. We part for breath, me winded, and your breathing coming out hard and controlled. Wordlessly, you gesture at my bra and panties and I hasten to slip them off, as you do the same with your shirt.

You look so calm and measured but your fingers fumble as you undo your belt and I’m secretly thrilled that I affect you just as much as you do me. Before long, your pants and boxers are added to the heap of clothing on the floor and we’re both standing before each other, naked and beautiful. I step forward and kiss you, my hands running through your hair, and you take the opportunity to let your hands glide over my body, feeling down my back and clawing at my ass.

I pull away, overwhelmed and we gaze at each other for a second. The room is so still and silent; I feel like we’re the only two people who matter in the world. You drain the champagne in your glass and I move over to the bed, watching as you come to join me, the dark green bottle held in your fist.

The pillows are soft, the sheets brilliantly white and I sink into them, my eyes warily watching as you hover over me, taking an occasional swig from the champagne bottle. You pour a little into my mouth and I savour the cool crispness once again. Then you dribble it down onto my neck, sucking it up before it can run onto the sheets. You do the same all the way down the length of my body. I close my eyes tight, feeling the chill as the cold liquid spills onto my soft skin. Your warm mouth is quick to lap it up but inevitably it spills over onto the sheets and we both laugh.

Your mouth is between my legs now and I open my eyes to see you watching me as your tongue sets to work, running lightly over my clit, teasing me. You pour a little champagne down onto my pussy and lick it up as it dribbles down my slit, voicing your appreciation. I squirm beneath your hot, hungry mouth and you do it again, and again and again until eventually the champagne bottle is empty and I’m begging you to let me come.

You smile at me, that knowing smile that makes me feel helpless and beautiful at the same time, and then your finger is sliding inside my pussy, slowly testing how ready I am. Then you take the empty bottle and you’re fitting the top to my dripping hole, guiding the cold glass inside me. I close my eyes and moan out loud as you fuck me with it. You sit up on your knees, easily manipulating me, your free hand exploring my body, pinching at my nipples, wrapping gently around my neck.

Before I have a chance to come, you’re pulling the bottle away. I hear it land on the rug with a dull thump and then you’re between my legs, your hard cock brushing against my swollen clit before pressing to my hole and sliding smoothly inside me. I hear you sigh with relief and then you begin fucking me slowly, your hands holding onto my hips.

I sigh with pleasure as we settle into the rhythm but you don’t start going harder as I expect. You keep it at that slow pace, making me tilt my hips up and encourage you to fuck me properly.

“What?”

You grin at me, knowing exactly what I want, but purposefully holding it out of reach, teasing me, taunting me.

“You know what,” I moan. “Please,”

Your brilliant white teeth flash as you laugh. “Tell me,”

I close my eyes and press my body against your hard masculine form. “Fuck me harder,” I whisper.

“I can’t hear you,”

I groan and narrow my eyes at you but that just makes you laugh more.

“Fuck me harder!”

Your smile widens. “Still can’t hear you,”

“Fuck me harder!” I demand.

“What’s the magic word?”

I glare at you but you’ve had enough of playing games anyway and your eyes darken as you start picking up the pace, slamming deep inside me.

I moan in appreciation and let my hips move with yours. You grasp my hands in yours, pinning them above my head as you fuck me harder, the concentration visible on your face as you grit your teeth and lose yourself to desire. You fuck me harder than I expect; a vigorous pounding that makes me explode into orgasm before you’ve even settled into it. My clenching pussy doesn’t make you stop though. You’re in the game now, fucking me for your own pleasure, your hard cock stretching me wide, slamming against my cervix.

The sheets are wet with champagne and sweat, your mouth is on mine again, your tongue practically down my throat. There’s no romance in the kiss; it’s fuelled by pure lust and I love it. It’s painful and pleasurable and I feel myself build again only to fall apart once more, my body sweating and shaking uncontrollably. Finally, I feel your resolve weakening and you slam deep inside me once more, emptying yourself as you groan, your eyes shut tight.

We hold each other in the sweaty aftermath, not saying anything. There are no words I can find so I’m glad for the silence. I fall asleep in your strong arms, feeling safe, loved and satiated.

In the morning, the feeling has gone, as have you.

The champagne bottle is lying on the ground, empty, hollow. I feel the same way.

I wonder how long it will be before I get to see you again, if at all.

Then I groan out loud as I realise something. I forgot to ask your name again.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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Comments(4)

SSean08
Posted 09 Jan 2014 07:40
Mmmmmm i love the way you write. So elegantly and so descriptive. What a great scene. I'd like to know why no one could know why you were meeting....just something to intrigue the reader
oldvietnamvet47
Posted 23 Dec 2013 11:42
HOT
Basinah
Posted 26 Nov 2013 15:18
You set the scene very nicely, and build well toward the eventual climax. Very well done!
sandymonroe
Posted 26 Nov 2013 15:10
It was nice and romantic!
 

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