The Experience and Her Name
He only wanted one thing, and that was – a fuck.
He entered the bar, eyes scanning patrons as they eyed him. There was that distinct whiff of alcohol, food and cigarette smoke in the air, which he was sure he won’t be able to sense in five minutes most. Another thing he was sure of, was that he would have to take a shower before returning to his squad; he wisely took extra change of clothes with him, but he was painfully aware of how strong might be that characteristic mix of smells lingering on his hair. Only half of the sits by the bar were empty, but certainly that would change during the night. Gabe sat down, ordered his drink, and put his bag beside his barstool. He came here with purpose, and he knew, getting himself wasted will help carry out his plan. The bartender gave him an incredulous look, so he just flashed him his ID, fake of course, and gave a leveling stare.
After the first swig of alcohol ran down his throat, Gabe allowed himself a small smile. He imagined, what his parents would think if they knew where and for what he came to a bar for. The place was so different from what he was used to and where he grew up. Of course, there were bars in his city, but no one would ever dream of seeing Gabe at any there. It would look bad on him; for he was a little rich kid that came from a well-known family. He had faint hope, when he turned 17 that he wasn’t living life to the fullest. And there was no chance that he would drink anything even remotely alcoholic whenever he would go out.
He took another swig, and just when he was about to chug it down, he sensed someone nearing from behind him. That was it. As he swallowed, faint fragrance of a lady’s perfume reached his nostrils, and after a second there was a dark-haired girl, woman, he corrected himself, sitting at his left. She took his bottle, taking a short sip of his drink. He drank the rest after she had set it down, eyes never leaving hers.
She smiled warmly.
“You’re alone here, stranger,” she said. Gabe discretely regarded her form.
Slim, tanned legs, currently crossed to show off perfect ankles and carefully selected shoes. Full lips and even fuller breasts accented by a long necklace ending at her cleavage. Oh yes, this woman was the best he would find at a place like this.
“Maybe,” he murmured, before drinking again. The woman’s smile turned playful, as she absent-mindedly picked at the label on the bottle. He judged she had to be about five years older than him; even with all the make up she had on – eyes surrounded by black kohl – she might pass as a 22-year old woman. He didn’t mind, though. She was beautiful, and brave, probably not stupid too. There was no mistaking why she came to him, why he came here, and Gabe was sure they both knew it.
“Got into a fight?” she asked. Her emerald eyes drifted to his bandaged temple, and he very briefly smirked.
“Maybe,” he simply said. He hadn’t gotten into a fight; he merely tripped over the expensive Persian carpet and knocked his head on the hand-crafted table at home.
She smiled fully now, Gabe noticed tint of pink on her cheeks. She probably had drunk for courage too. Her eyes met his.
“Are you blind?” There was wonder on her face, not fear or confusion. It puzzled Gabe slightly. It was probably because of the pale blue eyes he possessed. Or maybe it was the way he acted, as if he wasn’t as interested in a sexy lady as herself, as if he didn’t know what she looked like. He decided to play along, and smiled back.
“Maybe,” he said again, with a tone, not giving a hint of doubt that he most definitely could see her.
The woman became serious all of a sudden. She settled her eyes on his lips now.
“Want to come somewhere quieter?” As if in a trance, she traced her own mouth with a forefinger. Then she smiled again. “Let me guess – ‘maybe’?”
Gabe shook his head slightly. “I’d like that.”
She was surprised now, but quite pleasantly so. They got up, Gabe picking his bag up in one swift motion, then following her. He put an arm around her waist. Even though she wore high heels, he was still slightly taller than her.
“Your place?” he softly asked. His breath tenderly reached her ear and made her shiver slightly, and Gabe made a mental note of her sensitive spot. They left the pub, embraced, and in the crisp air he distinguished that dreadful smell on the woman’s tresses. He knew his own hair smelled alike, and frowned slightly.
“If you don’t mind; it’s two blocks away.” She turned her head and smiled gently. He smiled back, to cover his surprise and silence, which she couldn’t know was normal for him.
She lived in a luxury penthouse. She took her shoes of, and placed them neatly aside, he did the same, and left the bag on the wooden floor. They entered the living room area. Large windows covered a majority of the wall, overlooking the city. Classy furniture was finely laid out.
The woman looked slightly panicked now, like she didn’t know what to do now, to start what they really came here for. Gabe didn’t have good idea what to do himself, but as a guy, he let his instincts kick in.
“Give me your hand,” he ordered mildly. Now he took the woman’s hand into his palms, and carefully felt for the right places with his fingers.
“I never got your name,” he said.
She smiled up at him, enjoying the feeling of his hands basically massaging her hand. She thought it was weird at first, because she had never had anyone do that before, but she liked that he was being different and tried a different approach.
“It’s Camille,” she answered, “and yours?”
“Gabe,” he replied.
As he worked his way up her arm, his mind drifted to his friends back at the hotel. It wasn’t difficult to run from their eyes – their coach said they’ve got two days of leisure before leaving back home from the swim meet – so little after 10 p.m. there was only Gabe and coach it their hostel. He just told him he’ll be back before dawn, and left, dressed in his usual attire. After retrieving his bag from nearby bushes he used the first dark alley he encountered to change into something less eye-catching. A simple dark blue t-shirt hugged his form, dark jeans, and plain white shoes, also tossing on a jacket. He smirked at his reflection in a window as he walked down the street to the bar he investigated earlier.
Would any of his friends believe that he was going there with one simple purpose – to fuck? He didn’t try to wrap his intentions into nice words, flowery euphemisms, is what he called it. This was about releasing tension, both mental and physical; and after a swim meet like that, he was in definite need of some. He didn’t want to risk his relationship with the girls on the swim team or other friends that are girls back at his school. He only wanted one thing, and that was – a fuck. He couldn’t do that, and risk ruining his reputation of a good guy; word spreads fast at his high school and he wouldn’t know how to cope.
This was a task he could accomplish only with an aid of a stranger, in a place far away from his city and his family’s connections. Gabe knew the fact, that he was still a virgin at seventeen was due to his upbringing and surroundings. He wasn’t old enough to seriously interest any of his older companions; he was tied by his family’s policy on dating, so dating someone and “getting things slow” was not an option either. When he attempted with a girl for the first time, he was only fifteen; and after a car accident days later, left him pinned to bed for weeks. He then worked hard on getting his body back into shape and he was now ready to perform. Working and being around his family’s business, he heard all sort of stories from adults. And then he realized that if a teenager ought to know every aspect of life, it wasn’t about technical or book knowledge; it is the experience that matters. So he decided his lack of practical view on some things must be corrected.
And there he was, stroking gently, but surely, the upper arm of a stranger.
Camille was flushed now, he noticed, lips parted slightly and breath coming slightly faster than normally. He moved his hands to her neck, rubbed the back of it with his fingers, and drove his thumbs in small circles. She licked her lips once, twice, and finally bit the bottom one. She was standing so close he could sense heat radiating from her body.
Either the room was unusually warm or he was getting excited as well, because there was moisture gathering slowly on his back now. His hands shifted again, this time to the woman’s chest and she sucked on a loud breath, gripped his forearms, when his palms surrounded her breasts. His mouth was hovering near hers now; she took the initiative and touched her moist lips to his mouth. Gabe moved his fingers, she opened her mouth – to moan, perhaps – and he used the opportunity to lick at her bottom lip, tasting strangely sweet, an unfamiliar mix of alcohol and woman. Then she kissed him, deeply, and he transferred his hands on her back and head, to hold her close, to prevent her from stopping the ministrations of that sinfully brilliant mouth of hers. They ceased all movement briefly, to catch a breath, their foreheads pressed together.
“I want you,” she said, and Gabe smiled, at sheer ridiculousness of that statement. He slipped his hands under her skirt, and felt the smooth shin of her thigh.
“Come to the bed then.”
They parted, and he followed her with measured steps. She halted at the bottom of the bed, visibly more confident now, and then gave him a seductive half-smile.
“Sit down here,” she ordered.
Gabe raised a brow at her, slightly confused, but he participated nonetheless. Camille took off her top slowly and seductively; letting him drink in the sight of her. Gabe, although composed, wasn’t the one to just sit back and do nothing, so he took the task of unzipping her skirt off himself. He let it fall off to the floor, his hands drifting to her back again, undoing the clasp of her bra. He lapped his tongue, tasting the skin of her flat stomach, felt one of her hands wound itself into his hair and the other caressed his neck. His mouth traveled upward, as she moved her bra down her arms, so when he reached her breasts, she was deliciously naked there. His hands softly kneaded delicate skin, while he occupied himself with exploring one of the nipples with his tongue. It was soft in the beginning and then it hardened, as if the room was cold. But it wasn’t, in fact it was getting warmer and warmer with each passing second. Gabe heard once, one of his buddies discussing with another one of his friends how good it was to suck on girls’ nipples. Although it made him slightly nauseous at the time, he amused himself with that idea afterwards, and decided that now would be a good time to see where the appeal in it was.
At first he embraced the nipple with his mouth, which earned him a content sigh, and then tentatively he sucked on it. When breathy moans reached his ears Gabe concluded it was time to take care of the other nipple as well, so as he sucked more seriously on the one in his mouth, his fingers played with the other.
Deciding it was time to move things a little further, he tugged at the back of Camille’s left knee with his free hand and she shuddered. He made a note to himself, that weird places hold interesting secrets. She sat down on his lap. Gabe let go of her breasts, put his hands on her hips and latched his mouth to her neck, just below her ear, where he suspected she should be quite sensitive to the touch. She was indeed. Her moans made him feel light headed. It was a strange feeling, to know that he could bring pleasure and oblivion to a stranger so easily. There was an unfamiliar scent filling his nostrils – sweet and inviting – Gabe wondered if it was unique to her, or was it just a perfume than anyone could buy. He nipped at the shell of her ear, traced its outline with his tongue, felt a little tiredness of this particular muscle. Her arms were under his shirt now, pulling it up, he moved away slightly, and let her help to take it off. It was strange, her awe-filled eyes on his chest, fingers gently tracing his muscles. He never really put much thought into his looks, but he did care for his body, for he showed a lot off during meets. But now, being with this woman, he found that acceptance is comforting, even if it wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. Camille licked her lips again, and he felt an urge to kiss her.
With a simple movement of his hips, aided with a supporting arm, he flipped her over on the bed, put his mouth on hers. She whimpered, as he settled between her legs and sucked on her tongue. Her hands were on his hips now, going to unzip his pants and dive under his boxers to stroke his semi-hard cock. His eyes opened involuntarily, amazed at the feeling. His hands never felt this good, and surprisingly to himself, he grunted into her mouth.
Now Gabe wanted to feel her too, so he glided his right hand over Camille’s knee, let his fingers tickle slightly velvety skin of the underside. As she sprawled her legs more widely, he pushed the black lace of her panties aside and for the first time in his life, touched another person in the most sensitive of places. She sighed, her mouth now on his cheek and chin, planting sloppy kisses on his neck and shoulder. He let his forefinger dive between her folds and felt how wet she was. She panted as his finger was engulfed by her moist hotness. His hand moved, as if of its own accord to match the ministrations of her soft palm on his penis. His panting and her quiet moans echoed in the dim room, sweat started running down Gabe’s back, as he added a second finger to bring her more pleasure.
“Enough,” he managed to grunt out eventually, head bowed, trying to regain his composure. He slipped his fingers out of her and moved away. Camille looked at him with confused eyes, still under influence of his unskillful skilled hands. But then comprehension sparkled into her green irises, and she hooked her fingers under the elastic band of her undergarments, raised her legs to take it off. Gabe gulped audibly, because if anything, that was the most erotic sight he has ever seen. With all his experience as a mature boy, he still was just a teenager, and for the first time that night he wondered, if he’d really stand up to the challenge that was this stranger. For now, he just kissed her shin, took the panties rest of the way up, and threw them somewhere back. He slid his hand into one of the pockets of his pants and revealed a condom.
It was thrilling, to bend over her again, supporting his weight on one hand and raising the small package to his mouth. He tore it open with his teeth, eyes never leaving hers, just like earlier tonight, when she drank from his beer. She wasn’t smiling now, but it was good anyway. Camille’s hands were on his now, and she took the condom out of his grasp, threw the package on the side, and put it on for him expertly. He gasped, when cold rubber engulfed his shaft, but then there she was with her lips on his again, her hands coaxing him ever so close. He kissed her without really thinking, as all of his nerve endings seemed to be concentrated southward anyway.
When he felt that hot wetness again – this time on his cock – he let drew in a calming breath, because it felt so unbelievingly divine, he thought he’d loose his control.
“Fuck me,” she moaned into his ear, and he shivered.
His hips moved forward; she wrapped her legs around him, burying him deeper. One of her hands settled on his ass, kneading at him pleasantly, the other moved to grip his arm. Gabe lifted himself slightly on his left arm; his other hand steadied her hips, as he started moving. First he tried long, slow thrusts that left him amazed at the sensation. Then there felt like something was missing, so he tried moving a bit harder, thrusting deeper. Eyes closed, lips parted, he could only hear purring and moaning from under him, not so much caring for who the voice belonged to. He bowed his head, lost in those steady beats that rocked underneath him, and made the mattress squeak rhythmically. Eventually, even that proved to be insufficient, so he bit his lip and started moving faster.
There were two hands on his back now, nails digging into his skin, adding fresh scrapes. His left palm gripped the sheets tightly too, because the pleasure was just so intense, because he felt like on a brink of pain now.
Obscene slap of skin against skin added to his excitement, as well as more and more needy voice from his partner.
She chanted something, some steady stream of words, but he didn’t care, he wanted the release, now. His hips moved in a brutally strong, almost broken rhythm and then he heard her – screaming.
“Damn! You’re so,” she stopped to moan loudly, “good!” she shouted. He wanted to agree but he pondered on why she would say that, it was in fact, his first time. But that only made him more confident in his actions, because he was pleasing an older woman... a hot and sexy older woman by the name of Camille. He felt her insides clamping around him, impossibly tight and that was it. That was his undoing, which was all that he could ever want. His brows joined as he concentrated on riding the feeling to the end.
When he regained a hold of his senses he was laying on top of her, his nose buried into the junction of her shoulder and neck. Hair plastered to his neck felt itchy, and he shivered slightly, as a faint gust of wind rolled through his moist skin. His ears picked on the sounds coming from the streets below, soft panting of the woman below him, and his own calming breath. There was smell of sex in the air, sweat mixed with semen and that sweet fragrance he sensed before. He mustered enough strength to push himself up on his hands, grunting as he did so. It startled him, when she pushed a stray lock of his hair behind his ear and smiled up, obviously contented. Her eyes were glossy.
“That was amazing,” she said simply, and it felt natural, to just smile back.
She reached up and kissed him. His mind drifted to his friends again, eyes found the clock on the night table. It was midnight. So he still had three spare hours before he would have to get back to hotel.
Camille’s leg rubbed at his thigh and Gabe felt a tingle of familiar filing in his gut. He remembered one of the stories his adult friends exchanged while he was filing some papers, one of many that motivated him to be in his current position. It was one of the employees, who said the best sex is not the first round, but the second – because then one knew where to touch, how to stroke, and when to bite – and that it was both pleasant and practical to do it in the shower, as long as the hot water was running.
Gabe decided that since he would have to take a shower anyway, he might as well be using experience gathered by his superiors, instead of engaging in another exploration on his own. He broke the kiss and looked into green eyes, dead serious.
“How long do you think your shower’s hot water lasts?”