Locked in the Dark with You

Everyone was watching us as we said hello to each other for the first time. I could feel your eyes on me the moment I walked through the door. We stumble towards each other, pushing past other clumps of people holding drinks and making small talk.

 

"Let's get out of here," I think. I was the one who spoke, but I can't be certain. I was so nervous. I know I was thinking I wanted to be alone with you. And I could tell by the way you looked at me that you felt the same way. You took my hand in yours, and we ducked quickly and quietly to the hallway outside the meeting room. A younger couple, apparently intent on getting upstairs as quickly as possible, ran right into us, knocking me into you. 

 

We stumbled back a step or two, trying to regain balance. Your arm slinked around my waist and held me tightly as we watched the two tipsy revelers make their way unevenly along the hallway. We both smiled at their eagerness to consummate whatever it was they were feeling.

 

"I feel the same way, actually," you said huskily in my ear. "Or would you rather go back to the party?"

 

I looked up into your eyes and found I could not look away. "Let's get out of here. Now," my voice was barely audible over the noise. You nodded your response, "yes," and led me away down the hall towards the hotel lobby. We bobbed our way through the crowd, refusing to be separated, and made our way to the bank of elevators. 

 

Just as we were about to enter the nearest one, there was a huge noise that sounded like a transformer exploding, and the hotel was plunged into darkness. "Rats!" I heard you say as you realized the elevators were out of commission. I wondered if the hotel had a backup generator, or if we would be making our way up ten-plus flights of stairs in the dark.

 

The thought of letting another day go by without knowing what it was like to be with you decided me. "There was a closet in the ballroom. "I didn't even get the chance to finish the thought. You squeezed my hand hard and quickly led me back to the room we'd just left. It was a storage room for audio-video equipment, we discovered as we quickly looked inside. 

 

You flicked a lighter on unexpectedly, and I jumped. "Oh. That startled me. " You'd had enough of a look at the room and returned the lighter to your jacket pocket, pushing me gently into the small room.

 

I heard the lock click in place and realized we were finally alone. I barely had a moment to catch my breath when you caught me up in your arms.

 

"We've been waiting a long time for this," you said simply as I nodded in agreement. And then, all thoughts went out of my head as you bent down to kiss me for the very first time.

 

You moved very slowly, taking your time. The first touch of your lips was almost electric, softly brushing against mine, without pressure but generating sparks of heat that burned inward. I could feel your arms tighten around my waist, and I reached up to put my arms around your neck. Your lips found mine again, this time not as soft but insistent. My lips parted slightly to allow your tongue to slowly reach out to mine as the kiss grew deeper and became almost urgent in nature. 

 

I pressed myself against you, lightly rubbing my breasts against your chest as my hips swayed provocatively against you. I knew the effect I was having on you; I could feel your cock begin to harden against my stomach as your hands reached down and found purchase on my hips. You pulled me hard against you as your tongue explored, inviting and teasing me with each flick against my lips and tongue. I met and matched your passion easily, slowly beginning to suck a bit at your tongue when it entered my mouth.

 

And then, that marvelous tongue was trailing down my neck, your teeth sharply nipping the soft skin, your breath hot against my throat. I could feel my breathing was becoming heavier, and my whole body felt as if it would be consumed and burned to ash in an instant with the heat of your touch. It was like a choreographed dance: we both seemed able to anticipate what each other would do next so that we moved in concert. All I knew was I needed to feel your skin against mine as quickly as possible.

 

It was as if you could hear my thoughts, for I know I did not speak aloud.

But there you were, tugging at the zipper of my gown as I reached to unbuckle your belt and gain access to your flesh.

 

Your coat jacket: on the floor, sloughed off. My gown: around my ankles. I reached for your tie, but you beat me to it. "Clip-on," you said with a wicked grin before kissing me yet again. I unbuttoned countless buttons on your shirt, remembering at the last minute to unbutton the cuffs as well. The shirt joined the jacket on the floor, and I pulled on the zipper of your pants, reaching my hands inside to cup your hips and slide the pants to the clothes heap on the floor as soon as I could get the zipper down.

 

Deftly, you managed to unhook my bra with one hand, catching it with your free hand and then letting it, too, drop to the floor as you stepped away from the pile of discarded clothes and towards my waiting flesh.

 

And then I could feel your wonderful hands on me. I cried out with joy, for it was a sensation remembered rather than experienced for the first time. I could feel my nipples harden beneath your palms as you held them, and I pushed against your hands, wanting more touch, more feeling. But your hands did not linger at my breasts for long. No, they were roaming everywhere as you kissed me. I could feel your hands on my shoulders, cupping my ass, reaching up into my hair to pull my face closer to yours. Then you were sliding my panties down, leaving me bare except for my heels and thigh-high stockings. 

 

You knelt in front of me, like an altar boy in church waiting to receive a sacrament, or blessing. You pulled me to you and began to trail your kisses down my belly to the warm wetness of my sex. Your arms wrapped themselves around my legs as you began to explore with your fingers as well as your tongue. I shifted my weight somewhat so as to stand with my legs apart to provide easy access to my pussy and my ass.

 

Your fingertips tickled the insides of my thighs, but I didn't feel the slightest bit like laughing. They were at the top of my legs, your fingers teasing lightly before one or two slipped inside me at the same moment your tongue found my clit and began to do a slow dance around it, almost, but never quite coming to rest upon it. My hands are in your hair, holding you and guiding your mouth and your tongue as you slide easily in the slickness of my excitement. "I want you," I remember saying to the air.

 

And then you are beside me again, arms tightly pulling me into you. Your cock, still confined beneath your shorts, springs free as I manage to pull these down below your hips. I reach out and touch you, almost timidly at first. I am at once overwhelmed with the silky feel of your penis in my hand: it is the contrast between your rock-hard erection and skin that feels softer than any baby's that excites me terribly. I sink to my knees, and now it is my turn to pray at the altar of our passion. 

 

I reach out and gently caress you with my hand, sliding my hand from the tip all the way down to the base, allowing myself to cup and gently cradle your balls in one hand as I delicately trace around the head of your cock with my tongue. I feel your excitement too as your balls tighten and a shudder runs through you. I hear you moan softly, involuntarily, as I fully take your head into my mouth and tease the very tip with my tongue. 

 

I can taste the drop of slightly salty, slightly sweet pre-cum that forms at the very tip. Now I take you in deeper and then withdraw, taking my mouth away from you for just a moment. I pull my face back far enough to be able to see you there, so hard and full of desire. I begin to lick and tickle your cock from base to tip with my tongue, teasing with tiny nips that are not quite bites but firm enough to cause you to squeeze my shoulders and then lift me to my feet.

 

Both of our eyes have grown accustomed to the dark, and we can see that there's a small table against the far wall of the closet. Without a word you lift me and set me down on the corner of the table, stepping into the "V" that is formed by my legs, spread apart to allow you entry. 

 

Once more I am aware of my heart beating loudly as your lips touch mine, your tongue relentless and inquisitive in its explorations. My whole body is aching for you, and I can hardly stand the anticipation of the next moment. I slide my hips to the very edge of the table, draping one arm around your neck while using the other to guide you inside me.

 

You push the head of your cock between my pussy lips and stroke up and down from my clit to the base of my ass for a moment, marveling at how hot and wet I am. But when you try to push inside me, there is resistance. I smile nervously up at you, "It's been a long time since," but you cut off my words with a sharp thrust from your pelvis, and you slide fully inside me all the way to the hilt.

 

"Oh," the word was something between an exclamation of pain and one of intense pleasure. I had forgotten just how wonderful it felt to have a man inside me. Your hands reach around and beneath me, cupping my ass cheeks and lifting me slightly off the table as we begin to establish a rhythm: slow, deep strokes withdrawing almost all of the way out before plunging deeply back inside, over and over again. 

 

I feel one of your hands groping for my ass, finding the spot, and lightly running your finger against me with ever-increasing pressure, seeking entry there as well.

 

My body is now on fire. I lean back on the table, trusting that you will cradle my fall as I lift both my legs, bending them at the knees as you are forced forward and drawn even more fully into this embrace. One of your fingers pushes inside my ass, not pumping, just applying pressure against the base of your cock, which continues its assault on my dripping pussy. 

 

We move so well together—I can feel every inch of you, the entire length, as you pump me harder and harder, driving us both to the very brink before slowing down and easing off, for just a moment, then building to a crescendo once again. I look down as you raise up just a bit and arch your back, allowing us both to watch you plunge inside me over and over again.

 

Our mouths find each other again, and your kisses are so sweet, coming between the panting sounds we are both making. I cannot distinguish your breathing from my own. I can feel one heart, pounding loud and strong, but cannot tell if it beats within my chest or yours. Our eyes meet, sending shivers through me as my back arches and I buck against you harder.

 

My orgasm begins as my already tight pussy goes into spasm, alternately squeezing and releasing your cock, sending you over the edge as well, to join me in my Elysian garden of delight. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over both of us, and I become aware, after one moment or an hour, I do not know that movement has stopped: we are clinging to each other, locked in that embrace. 

 

We are both spent, but somehow unwilling, unable to separate back into the two separate individuals we were before we kissed, before we touched. With a heavy sigh, you collapse against me, still buried inside, softening almost imperceptibly, and we just hold each other. I close my eyes, and the world blurs and then moves away.

 

The alarm rings, and my arm shoots out from beneath the blankets almost automatically to shut off the noise. After a moment, I open my eyes, look around, and realize sadly that I am alone. I move to my desk, turn on my computer, and begin to write this down as my coffee brews and I struggle to make meaning of it all. Sadly, there is no you—there is only I. And I am alone. Was it all a dream? Did I imagine it? It seemed so real. 

 

More real than I feel at this moment. More alive than I can remember feeling, ever. I can still feel the hum of your whisper and the taste of your perfect cock deep in my throat, deep within the recesses of my sex. Oh God! How I crave you now! Can I crawl back into bed and recapture that dream? Can I go to sleep and never wake up, except in your arms? Are you my imagination? A devil or an angel sent to me? I wish I knew. But you were so real, my imaginary lover, and you have spoiled me for another's touch, I am afraid.

 

I get up from my chair, pad into the kitchen, and pour myself a cup of strong black coffee. Walking back to my bedroom, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror: I see the bite marks on my neck and throat. They're light but unmistakable. I feel the wetness between my legs and close my eyes, wondering what really happened.

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