Did Someone Ask For Something Naughty?

Per Request...




She slips into the hotel room with an anxious sigh and kicks off her high heels. With only ten minutes until her appointment she primps her self in the bathroom mirror. She turns and gives her ass an arousing squeeze, slowly sliding her hands down the skirt.

“No panties, no panty lines.” She announces to her self as she walks out of the bathroom, intentionally leaving the light on.

Grabbing one of the high heels from the floor she peers out the peephole. “Good, he’s not here yet,” she thinks to her self as she opens the door, propping the door open with the heel.

Walking back to the bed she stops.

And the waiting begins.

With what little light that escapes the bathroom her fingers undo the top buttons on her blouse. In the dark room she can barely discern between shadows, but she knows that he’ll find her.

In the dark there is nothing to distract her from the random thoughts in her mind, thoughts of how she all this started. Thoughts drift to the sex in her marriage had turned so bland over the years. So many predicable nights of the same routine, rolling on and off of each other. And then there was the night that it all changed.

A smile creeps across her lips as she recalls the “incident” at last year’s Halloween party. After one too many drinks on the part of both her self and her husband the two of them found themselves arguing in a back bedroom of the party. The alcohol let loose of a torrent of insults and in a rash moment of anger her husband had grabbed her threw her to the bed, pinning her down. Costume clad, she looked up at a man that looked nothing like her husband. Anger quickly shifted to passion and she soon found her having the most intense fucking of her life. The mystery and aggression was the spice that she had been looking for. She often found herself starting arguments just for the angry sex that would undoubtedly follow.

A voice comes from the hotel hallway and she holds her breath, but it was a false alarm. She remembers the first night her and her husband had rented a hotel room for their little game. It was months after the Halloween party and her budding rape fantasies had bloomed into full role-play. Once every couple of weeks she would leave a note for her husband to meet her in a bar or hotel room. But soon even their monthly rendezvous seemed to take on the same air or repetition their sex had before. She needed more.

Repositioning her bare feet on the hard hotel floor she could feel the result of her anticipation starting to drip. She breathes deeply as the door was creaks open. The hallway light slices it’s way through the darkness as her long awaited intruder enters the room. He callously kicks the shoe out of the doorway and walks up behind her.

Her arms tense as he stands inches behind her; his hot breath cascading down her neck. As she turns he grabs both of her arms tightly and pined them to her side. She struggles as he pulls her arms tighter, pulling them behind her back. Her breasts squeeze against the inside of her blouse. With a smile on her lips she pushes back attempting to wriggle free, but his hold remains unbroken.

“Not so rough” she whispers.

“Shut up.” He responds throwing her down on the bed.

Picking her self up on her elbow from the coarse comforter she feels him pushing her skirt up over her ass and around her waist. His hand lightly caressed the pale skin before slapping it hard; she could feel a red handprint branding it’s self into her cheek. She exhales with a moan, the sharp slap was electric and her hips could not help but to grind in response. She wants more, but still she resists, knowing he was going to take it turned her on, and knowing she couldn’t stop him made her made her burn for it.

His left hand grasps the back of her neck and presses her face on the bed while he unzips his pants. The hand on her neck clenches down tightly, so tight she felt herself unable to breath. A gasp of air passes though her compressed windpipe as he shoves himself inside her. Digging her nails into his wrist was motivation enough to take his hand from her neck and grab her hips.

To say they were fucking would be considered an understatement; his this thrusts were impaling her. With the anger and fury that consumed her fantasies all these months he kept slamming her against him.

Again he slaps her ass and she cries out, her fingers now claw at sheets while the mattress slides beneath her. His hands leave her hips only to find their new target. She moans loudly as his fingers clamp tightly onto her nipples. Her body bucked and surged as she reaches climax, every part of her body clenches tightly.

Midway through her orgasm his hand slithers past her breasts and grasps her throat. Pulling her close to his body he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck as he surges inside her. Her knees went weak as he took his mouth from her neck and callously drops her on the bed. She doesn’t move move. She just rests her head on her arms as he pulls his pants up and walks toward the bathroom.

“Fucking whore,” he mutters as he exits the bathroom and leaves the hotel room.
After taking a moment to catch her breath she walks to the bathroom on unsteady legs. She smiles at her self in the mirror as the word “whore” escapes her lipstick-smudged lips. As she glances around the bathroom she sees the used and discarded condom floating in the toilet.

“Fucking whore,” she says flushing the condom.

She pulls skirt back down she proceeds to straighten out her wrinkled clothes, attempting to make herself presentable.

With fantasy complete she vividly recalls the last e-mail she sent him. “The room will be propped open with one of my high heels,” The e-mail said. “No names, No strings.”
Wiping the smeared lipstick from her mouth she notices the teeth marks on her neck. She wonders how she’ll explain the “intruders” teeth marks to her husband, then turns to look for her shoes.





Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com