Orgasm

Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 7:19 AM

From: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX

To: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX

Good morning,

I am already at work.  Text me the room number when you get it.  I am excited to see you too.

Me
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Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 10:20 AM

From: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX
To: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX

Good morning my love!

I hope work isn't too stressful and the ACs are behaving : )   I'll keep you posted as to my times when I better know when they are leaving.

 Can't wait to see you!

HFG
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Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 10:35 AM

From: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX
To: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX

Hello HFG,

Nobody else is working today so no AC issues.  It is a little hard to concentrate knowing I am going to see you soon.  Things aren't going as expected.  I will be here longer than I thought.  It won't be a problem for us though.

SNB
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Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 11:45 AM

From: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX

To: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX

Hello You:

I'm glad things aren't going to be problem for us. When are you getting out you think? You like peaches? So, I googled rock bars, lounges, dance clubs and this site comes up called club planet. There are a lot of rock bars, most grungy, one sounded more polished. I wonder if you have time to take a look and see what you think. Should we do holes in walls down and dirty jeans, or dress and heels type of places?

Love you lots and lots,

Your very happy SNG
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Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 12:35 PM

From: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX

To: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX

I was thinking down and dirty.  I am wearing jeans. 

I will take a look if I get a chance.  I am guessing I will get out at about 3.  I need to go home and could be at the hotel any time after 4.

Love you more,

Me
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Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 1:18 PM

From: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX
To: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX

OK, like East Village then. They're gone but I have a few things to do before I can leave. I'll keep you posted.

XOXOX

Me.
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Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 3:23 PM

 

From: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX
To: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX

I am leaving work now.  I have a few things to do at home.  I should be ready to leave at 4:30.  Let me know what time you will make it.

Me

Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 3:38 PM

From: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX

To: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX

I'm going to leave here at 4:30 or a few minutes past. So, I should be at the hotel around 5 or 5:15 depending on traffic, although I expect to be light today. I'll text you the room number. Or you can just spot me in the lobby and trail me upstairs.
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Sat, Jun 23, 2012 at 3:43 PM

From: K<dancing.midnight@XXXXX.XXX
To: Claudia Bonn@ XXXXX.XXX

See you soon.

He picked me up and carried me to the bed. Usually at times like these, we women fear ourselves as heavy as sacks of flour, but he held me with such ease, with such obvious lack of effort in his expression that I felt as light as he felt me. His arms around me bloomed with muscle, the one hundred push-ups that had calloused his knuckles in sinewy evidence. He lay me gently onto a cloud of a duvet, as if delivering a glass slipper onto its cushion. No strain in his face, no shake to his arms, no sudden letting go to relieve strained muscles. I loved lying underneath his powerful bulk, knowing that if he chose to kill me right at that very moment, he could, and knowing that he wouldn’t. His erection pressed against me through his jeans, igniting in me a simple kind of happiness. He wanted me. Erections don’t lie. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to administer to it like an artist would to a promising canvas. I wanted to honor it, to attend to it, to love it, use it, enjoy it, and most importantly to put it in my mouth. Yes, there was no problem. Yes he wanted me. Yes, everything had come together for this moment in my life. He would take complete and utter pleasure in me. I looked into his face, the light glinting in the blue of his eyes like sunlight off waves. He kissed me then, his lips parting mine sure and insistence, probing and sucking on the plump softness, pulling away, then coming close again, slow and rhythmic as the dance of the tide.  

“Are you ready for me?” He asked before he entered me. It was something, he would ask often and for a long time after. He was the only man who ever asked this of me, and I found it endearing as if he was a small boy, my cherub, or, as I adjusted it when he protested that he was neither round nor innocent, my evil cherub. I willed with every cell in my mind for him to trust me enough to lose his demons in me. My triumph depended on it.  

"I'm always ready for you," I murmured, guiding him to me.

I felt him part me then, this man, taking me, fucking me. This white man, this Irish-American man fucking a woman from the Middle East where women like me are stoned as whores. I was his whore. He was the all powerful white man and I was his coolie whore, I thought as he happily fucked me, his cock stroking my G spot, sending through me a continuous cord of pleasure.

That night, he fucked me for hours. He fucked with his eyes open. He said he liked looking at me while he fucked me. So, I kept mine open too. Incredulous, I watched lust burn in his eyes clear like blue flames, and rose to heavens above. At that moment, there was nowhere in the world I would’ve rather been but in his arms. I was, for the first time in my life, making love to a man I was in love with and who was in love with me. I was suddenly living in the here and now every love scene in every movie that I had ever seen in my life. He fucked like a typical man, too fast and shallow for me to cum, even though his cock sent rifts of pleasure through me. He fucked me however he wanted, at times with long quick strokes, at times short staccatos, at times pounding me like a rag doll, and I loved every thrust, every quiver and gasp and jab of pleasure that he sent into me. It turned me on to think that his pleasure was single-minded and selfish. I was stronger than whatever had stopped him the last time. That night, he not only came inside me, but he came into himself. As long as we allow ourselves orgasms, there is still a self who stands half a fighting chance in this world.

He went down on me later, eating me out hard and rough, like a man likes his cock socked. I grasped his arms, his muscles hard ridges under my fingers. I thought of how this man, this man whom I adored, this man loved me enough to put himself between my legs. His tongue was warm and soft and cruel. This man who would never hurt me was delivering pain, something I had gotten used to over the years, and had begun to welcome, surrendering myself to it until it became pleasure. I reveled in the delicious punishment delivered by the innocent tongue of my earnest lover until pleasure exploded deep inside me and bliss flowed sweet and slow through my limbs.  

We had triumphed.