erotic story: The Quickie

2010 madonna_making_breakfastLauren’s 100 Day Tutelage has ended and she has decided to go on a 100 Day Anais Nin quest writing erotica. 

The buildup is always different. Time is a factor. The longer it takes before we see each other, the stronger the desire. But it’s not just the weeks apart that determine how much I need his touch, how much I crave to be kissed and hugged, or how eager I am to be fucked before my body has a chance to catch up. My longing grows with every fantasy sparked and shared. With every scenario hinted at and masturbated on. With every script in my head that gives me orgasms no real life partner can give me but Big’s imaginary and always available twin brother works them brilliantly. How desperate I am to see Big depends on how many earth shattering masturbation sessions I had.
And this time it was a lot.
“BB I’m of no use. I’ll be wasted from my trip.”
BB meant Baby Bee. But this little insect was not taking no for an answer.
“Can I come over AM? I’ll bring breakfast.”

So on a sunny day I arrive with a box of fresh eggs, French bread, Italian meat products and a selection of condoms that could cover a modest gangbang. When it comes to seeing Mister Big I always come prepared. As expected Big is clean and dressed despite just rolling jetlagged out of a plane. His overseas meeting was jammed into an in-and-out operation which illustrated his attitude to work. I fear I will one day lose him to a heart attack but I never say that. And by pushing he “takes advantage of me” when he clearly needs his rest, I am keeping him overworked.

*
Big is always quicker than me. Already back into his clothes, his hair nicely combed. Music and the smell of coffee escape the kitchen. I’m putting my hair back up although I ll probably look fucked despite. I join him in the kitchen.
“I’m concerned about you. How much you work. I don’t say it because it gives an excuse not to see me. But then I feel guilty asking for your time.”
“You have every right to ask for it.” Big responds. “How’s your business going?”
“Crushing it. I have a new program for the yoga. I want the same success for my books. I’m into Stoya for this.”
Big was responsible for introducing me to her porn on one of our first dates.
“I want to be the Stoya of literature. She has her own channel now. She’s totally independent.”
“Are you a member?” Big laughs.
“It’s a business expense. My accountant might think otherwise.”
Big shakes his head still laughing.
“You win BB. Compared to you my work will always be boring. And stressful.”

We sit down for our breakfast to conclude our 90 minute date. He has to leave for an appointment, I know that.
“I collected my things, but the cap from the lube is missing.” I say. “Can you get it? You were the last one to have it.”
“Just leave it,” he shrugs. “It’s not like it has any text on it right?”
“Something like: extra long lasting lubricant for hours of anal sex? I don’t think so. But I don’t want it found by the wrong people.”
“I’m sure it’s neutral,” he insists.
“Oh I would recognize a lube cap anytime. And you’re responsible. You were Chief Lubrication Officer.”
“I ll have a look. Are you still sore?”
“From behind you mean?”
He nods. “Because it hurt and we stopped.”
I shake my head. “That’s okay. I wanted you so bad I got greedy. I wanted you so much it hurt.”

*

I smelled liquor on his breath. Probably booze from the Wall Street bar he went to with an American colleague.
“There are two cute girls here.” He texted. “But my buddy is not getting my signals.”
“Are you turning me on?” I texted back. “It’s working.”
I was always frightened he would get an std. Yet when he hinted at sex with other women the turn on was undeniable. If he ever became trustworthy I would probably end it for reasons of irreconcilable boredom.
“It scares me, you and someone else. But I’m also turned on.” I Whatsapped when he was waiting at the gate. “Conflict of interest.”
He texted back: “I can handle that.”

I can handle that opened the door for me, I dropped my bags, threw myself in his arms and was welcomed by a warm tongue, strong arms, and dry fucked against the wall. I was groaning with every painful rub of his hard on to my jeans. We made it to the bedroom and undressed each other in what seemed like one yearning, one mutual desire. And then it stopped. It was the too-much-on-your plate-suddenly-not-hungry experience I never had with him. That feeling of wanting sex but for unknown reasons dropping out of it. It would still be okay but it would lack the most vibrant part.

We were naked and kissing and I didn’t know if I was going to tell him. I could already feel the disappointment that whatever I would do, I could not bring it back. Suddenly he ceased his passionate cuddling and made eye contact.
“What do you want?”
I let the maturity of his question sink in. I could feel it right down there. It was like I was tingled back alive, or maybe better pinched back live. What I was hearing went straight between my thighs. He gave a soft kiss on my cheek but his embrace stayed still.
“What do you really want? You can tell me.”
He knew the effect his voice had on me. And we had a shared memory of our first time anal sex where he had asked me the exact same thing: What do you really want?
His voice was controlled, sensual and slow.
“I want anal sex,” I sighed. ”Very much”
“Already?”
I nodded.
“I bought new lube. I’ll show you.”

Relieved I could hand this over to him, I showed him the lube and which condom we should use for this.
“I got it.” He laid down on his back. “Now come here.”
He directed me in a straddle pose over his face and I received his warm tongue. It was generous and sweet and with a magical combination of tongue, saliva, and his fingertips, he did what he could to prepare me. He asked me to give him a blowjob and I did. I still didn’t know who enjoyed it more, him or me. It was one of the many things that was always flawless with him. I always felt totally appreciated. Memories of other men were mixed here, awkward or tainted. Like I was the one enjoying sex and had to convince a partner. Like I needed to fix them. Mister Big didn’t require fixing.
“Here,” he said.
I looked up and he handed me the condom.
“Come sit.”
I was the woman on top and the moment it went in I collapsed in total pleasure.
“It’s been so long,” I said, suddenly emotional. He embraced me, hugged me close. Our French kisses mixed with my tears of joy and I pressed my knees to his ribs. He slid a fingertip up my ass and hugged me even closer. A rocking movement.
He took the bottle of lube. I sat up straight and we stared in each other’s eyes as he used the lube to stretch me from behind. “You like it double, don’t you?” I gave him a wide smile. He lifted me up.

His tip pressed my anus and I slowly lowered. He thrust up, just a little nudge, which resulted in an immediate sharp pain.
“Ow! Don’t move.” I begged. “I need to stay here.”
Whenever I dared to move it hurt. No matter how careful I was.
“It’s so painful. I can’t take it.”
We hugged intensely, faces buried in each other’s neck and my tears ran freely.
“I miss you so much sometimes.”

I was on hands and knees. His first thrust was just to get in, the second hit the cervix. The third and fourth made me shout out and again I forced him to slow down even though I had agreed to be “fucked doggy style, properly” as he put it. When he finally backed off it became sensual smooth fucking. The two, three deep thrusts I got after I cried out became a source of joy, transforming into hot waves of pleasure. A finger in my ass, probably a thumb. More pleasure, more shame. I dropped onto my forearms and squeezed my face into the pillow. Smothering my orgasm, not wanting to make too much noise. He came the moment I did.

We cuddled and kissed. Our afterplay was as always simple and loving. I remarked:
“I think we did everything two people can do to each other. In under 30 minutes.”
And Big answered: “The best recipe for a jetlag I could have wished for.”

 

 

Also available: erotic story The Saint

 

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