“You must be beat,” she said.
“Well, I’m kinda used to this schedule. I’ll really crash around noon. Thanks for inviting me over, going home and watching morning talk shows gets depressing.” I laughed and she smiled.
“Where are you from?”
“Los Angeles,” she said. “But really I live on a damn airplane. I am barely ever there.”
“Well that sounds exciting to me, I’m at my house entirely too much.”
“I really didn’t think you would show up,” she said.
“Why?” I asked.
“You just seemed so—scared.”
“Well, I am. But, I’m here anyways.”
I found myself smiling, something I don’t do often. She reached over, put her hands through my sticky hair, and kissed me. Her suit, her tattoos, and her slick hair intimidated me, but as soon as she kissed me I felt at ease. Her kiss felt soft and gentle. Her body smelled like a man’s cologne, but her mouth tasted like a woman’s perfume. I felt comfortable, like my body just knew exactly what to do next.
We continued to kiss, and she began to kiss my neck as her arms grasped for parts of my back. She held me closer to her, and she lifted up my striped Gap T-shirt, and unveiled my ever-so-sexy navy blue sports bra. If I had thought there was any inkling of me winding up in a bed that wasn’t mine, I would have worn one of my slightly more seductive lace bras, with matching panties, but that wasn’t the case.
However, my bra was torn off quickly and I don’t think she gave a shit of how lame it was. She pushed me down and grabbed my perky tits (I swear, part of the reason they are perky is because I wear sports bras). She was definitely the aggressor here and I was excited about it. She pinched my nipples and kissed my skin, she sucked on the side of my neck like a vampire and grabbed my breasts with overwhelming passion. My legs kicked up in the air as some kind of possessed reflex. My entire body felt what she was doing and we were only at second base.
She let go of my neck and stared at it.
“I like leaving my mark,” she said. She turned me towards the mirror and I saw a big swollen red hickey on my neck. I liked it. I felt like I was part of a gang. How many others were wandering around this earth with this same mark? It was nice to be part of something.
She continued to kiss me and her hands migrated down my body, gently but urgently. She stuck her hand inside my fuchsia panties, and in an instant knew the parts of me that would drive me wild. She knew her way around my vagina better than I did. She tickled and teased my outer pussy lips, and she gently pulled at my pubic hair. She licked my nipples and moved her fingers up and down the inside of my lips. There were so many sensations running up and down my body, I couldn’t stop looking at her beautiful face and her beautiful arms. It was really an incredible feeling to stare at a woman touching my body.
Her clothing was still on, and she continued to just focus on me. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be doing something to her too? But I really enjoyed being pleased. She was leading this, and I liked being her prisoner. I figured she would let me know when I was supposed to do something other than quiver and tremble and smile and enjoy.
Her mouth moved down my body and she spread my pussy lips wide open. She grabbed some lube that she conveniently had inside of her hotel night table, (a water-based lube I definitely recognized from the store) and she poured it all over my vagina, and then she massaged her fingers around my clit, faster and faster. I was so incredibly wet from a mixture of natural juices and lube. I felt like I was going to burst. I had never experienced such an incredible feeling before. I moaned loudly, a part of me felt like I was going to cry.
“I—I think I’m gonna,” I breathed heavy and I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth.
“You’re gonna what?” she asked.
“I’m,” I laughed, “I’m gonna cum!”
She went faster and faster; she must have previously gotten some kind of map to my clit, because she knew her way around it so perfectly. I started to feel the beginning stages of an orgasm and she stopped.
“Wait!”
I sat on the bed with my legs spazzing and panting like a sick dog. She grabbed a leather holster with a curvy strap-on silicone dildo from her suitcase, took her suit pants off, and pulled the contraption on herself, a woman with a cock poised and ready. She thrust herself inside me, and continued to rub my clit. The dildo hit my G-spot instantly, she thrust in and out, and rubbed my clit at the same time. Fucking hell, she was an amazing multi-tasker. I could see my internal juices on the dildo each time she pulled out, I grabbed my own breasts, I pushed my pussy towards the dildo so it could get as far inside me as it possibly could, and moments later I let out a loud carnal noise, some kind of cross between a scream, a moan, and a grunt. It was a giant orgasm that lasted for several minutes, and went in different waves. It started from my inside and spread to my outsides; it felt like twelve different orgasms rolled into one. Like every part of my body just got off in its own individual way. Is it possible to have an orgasm in your toes? Because even my toes never felt this good.
She kissed me softly again.
“You’re a lot of fun,” she said.
“Me? I barely did anything. Isn’t it my turn?” I mean, I knew I couldn’t do what she did, but I could sure give it the old college try.
“Well don’t you remember? I gotta go meet with your boss! And I have a few more stores to go to after that.”
“Oh! Yeah, well,” I couldn’t really speak.
“You can stay and crash, it’s cool! The beds here are super comfortable.”
“Really? You sure? I seriously don’t think I could drive home coherently right now. Really.”
“Yeah, definitely.” She kissed me again. She brushed her teeth, and I watched her put her suit back on. Before the top button was buttoned I fell into an incredible sleep.
10
My “weekend” consisted of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday afternoon. I worked Wednesday through Sunday night. I kept the same sleep schedule even on my days off so as to not fool my body into thinking I was a person with a normal schedule. I usually spent these days/nights doing laundry, binge-watching multiple seasons of a TV series on Netflix, and challenging myself to see what kind of gourmet meal I could come up with using whatever wasn’t rotten in the fridge and whatever was lingering in my pantry. Last week I really outdid myself with a baked ramen noodle casserole, made with hot dogs and cheddar cheese.
But this week was different. Meeting Amanda made me feel motivated; suddenly, I felt that I could actually make a difference in my workplace. I never thought of the rinky-dink shop I spent half my week at as something tied to an entire industry, but it was. There were so many possibilities to explore. Should I add new inventory? Should we have a blog? Do we even have a website? I pondered these things to excess. Having a wonderful orgasm also greatly awakened me, like an espresso shot that was administered from my clit. I never understood how important orgasms were. I need to have more of them. I felt this new urge of wanting to leave the house and go further than the grocery store, to explore the world around me. All the crucial Netflix series I hadn’t watched yet was not my number one priority at the moment. I mean, it was definitely at number two or three, but not one.