Later that night after tucking my daughter into bed and kissing her lovingly goodnight, I slipped into my own bed both wired and tired.
I settled the covers to my preference and peered out into the darkness. The blue digital light on the cable-box blinked 12:16am. It was still relatively early. I could grab the remote and turn to something interesting, or acquire my Nook from my bedside table and continue reading one of the several books I was in the midst of. The Last Kind Words was riveting however Tom would have to wait. I was in the mood for something singular.
My fingers traveled down the smooth, soft, curvy terrain of my body. I inhale and exhaled slowly. Time floated backward as I stared into the black, conjuring a vivid, animated scene that took place a few hours ago. My eyes recessed just past the point where I paid for the room. Fast forward a few scenes ahead and Imtiaz inserted the key and turned the knob. The room was well appointed despite the large bed backed into the middle of the far wall, practically filling the moderately small, rectangular room. Two tiny, white lacquer art deco tables flanked the bed while an overhead TV protruded from the wall, projecting into the space even further. An adjoining dark mahogany door led to an immaculate bathroom with modern fixtures. And for 90$ it was all ours, for the next three hours. I dropped my bags on the ground just before he reached for me. We tumbled onto the bed, hungrily kissing and groping, excited to get our first feel of each other after what seemed like an eternity. I suddenly remembered my surprise and placed my hand between us, pushing at his chest.
“Wait. Wait, I’ve got a surprise.”
“Oh yeah. And what’s that?” Imtiaz asked, lacing his fingers in my hair and thumbing the line of my cheekbone.
I hopped off of him, eager to show rather than tell.
“I’ll be right back.” I tossed over my shoulder, reaching for my bag. As a conciliatory prize, I gently flung the remote I found laying on the nightstand.
“Occupy yourself for a few minutes.” I winked.
Imtiaz tucked his hand under his head and started flicking channels. “Babe hurry up. You have no idea how hard I am.” He grumbled, adjusting his groin.
I smiled at the girl in the mirror above the sink as I closed the door.
Oh I have some idea tiger.
A few minutes later I opened the door to the bathroom and shyly stepped forward wearing my red, three inch heels and a black, fishnet body-stocking complete with thong back.
“Oh my God, babe look at you? You look so freakin’ beautiful. Turn around.” He exclaimed, abruptly pitching forward into a seated position.
His reaction excited me. I did a full, slow turn, gaining confidence from his words.
“Oh my God, babe, look at you? You always give me what I want. I can’t believe it. Come over here baby.”
I stood in front of him as he sat on the bed. He pulled me closer and used his fingers to touch and caress my thighs, my ass, the sides of my breasts. I closed my eyes, my body tingling with each new sensation.
“Oh my God, oh my God.” Baby, I can’t take it. Get on this bed. I gotta eat that pussy now.”
I’d never been with a man who wanted to lap me up like ice cream at every opportunity. He had me so sprung I was oblivious to decorum or danger.
I happily obeyed, fanning my hair above me, lying down, completely seduced by his desire. He freed himself of his clothes within seconds and climbed onto the bed. He kissed me intensely, full of lust and longing and worked his way quickly down to my sweet spot. He pulled the barely there string to the side and gave me a slow, delectably torturous working over utilizing his tongue and fingers. I erupted with desire and shuddered when I climaxed, his name on my lips, my own taste in my mouth. And that was just the warmup. My tiger’s energy was as ceaseless as his falcon. Whether he was under me or I above him, there was no limit to our pleasures. If we took a break from fucking it was only to make love. There was nothing in that span of space and time but each other.
“Who’s pussy is that baby? Is that my pussy?”
“Yes baby, that’s your pussy.”
“Mmmm, I love your pussy baby. Your pussy is so good. And who’s dick is this? Baby is that your dick? Is this dick yours?”
“Yeah baby, that’s my dick.”
“That’s right. Say it again. Who’s dick is this?”
“That’s my dick baby.”
I’d never spoken those words to anyone, nor had anyone spoken them to me in such a raw, carnal manner. It only enhanced our experience. Sometimes we were naughty and sometimes we were nice but never spent. We could have kept it up all night but time was in limited supply. And eventually the alarm on my phone went off signifying the necessity of a quick shower and a few minutes to get dressed.
As I returned my three inch heels to the plastic bag and zipped up my boots, my tiger sat beside me, trailing his fingers up and down my thigh. I turned to him and he kissed me softly, lovingly.
“You know that I’m falling for you Cat?” He posed it as a statement before pulling me into a sweet embrace and kissing me again.
I shrugged into myself shyly and bit my tongue.
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And only after replaying ever part of my afternoon tryst, did I finally turn to my side, curl up and doze off, my last thoughts of the honey brown skinned boy who was now more than ever, mine.