Wicked Wednesday: Women’s Week

I’m dashing up Commercial Street in the pouring rain. A chill April thunderstorm soaks my previously meticulous hair and makeup and I’m cursing the whole way. It’s hard to dash in 3” heels, particularly when there are no sidewalks. Provincetown tourist season is starting again and the only parking to be found was in the back of the wharf. Of course your room has to be near the boatslip. Not that far but fuck it seems like an eternity before I finally get there. My black rubber trench coat is dripping and the frayed edges of my flares are sopping wet. I don’t even want to know what I look like. Thank God for waterproof mascara and eyeliner.

You open the door and even though I feel as though I’ve known you forever we’ve never laid eyes on each other in person. You can’t help but break out in a shit-eating grin at my appearance. Evidently, I’m more drowned rat than dewy eyed temptress. “Hi,” I’m sheepish, embarrassed, dripping all over the carpet. Great first impression and very cool opening line. Not.

“Hi.” Leaning against the door jamb and allowing me very little room to maneuver into the room, you look amazing. But I had no doubts about that. “Can I offer you something? Drink? Towel? Hot shower?” I’ll start with the towel and try not to jump all over the hot shower just yet. You bring a big, fluffy white towel out of the bathroom and I try to find someplace inconspicuous to put my wet belongings. I flip my head over and scrub my hair. Now I’m sure I look like Adam Ant. You reach out and run your fingers through it and I reach up and grab your hands. I’ve wanted this from the moment I first saw your photos. First talked to you. I put your finger in my mouth and closing my eyes I slide it very slowly in and out. All the way in. All the way out. I open my eyes and your face is so close to me. I put my finger in your mouth and press my rain drenched lips over your mouth and my finger.

My knees buckle and the next thing I know we’re on the floor. Kneeling and fairly frantically working to take each other’s clothes off. The hunger I’ve felt for you has become starvation and I feel as if I’ll die if I don’t taste you now. Our mouths and hands are everywhere.  I’m on my back and my arms are out to both sides—your hands entwined in mine: strong, electric. The push and pull, give and take, control and submission ignites a passion I haven’t experienced in years. I force you onto your back and kiss you deeply, biting softly, sucking your lower lip, tugging at your lip ring playfully.  I pull you up so I’m straddling your lap and arch my back and you bury your face in my tits. My nipples are so hard. But it is my clit that throbs with need and as I lie all the way back you work your way down my body with a tongue that doesn’t stop.

Now you are exactly where I need you and my clit jumps at the first expert touch of your tongue. “Turn around. Turn around.” I want you in my mouth at the same time. I want to bury my face in your sweet Holy Grail. I can’t get enough of you and you’ve got my clit in your teeth and at least three fingers in my cunt. Everything is so fast and I’m moaning deep into you, creating a hum that reverberates off the walls inside you. I want to control it —I want it to last forever—but I can’t. I’ve got skyrockets going off in the deepest part of my body and it is reaching all the way down to my toes.  At the same time you shudder and buck against me and I drink you in as though I’ve been in the driest desert for 40 years.

But you aren’t done. I know your need to control and while I don’t easily give over to submission I don’t protest as you quickly slip into your leather harness and strap-on while flipping me over onto my stomach. I instinctively arch my back—my ass in the air as I shiver in anticipation of your penetration. You enter deeply as you pull on my still damp hair and I moan and push back against you. Your thrusting is fast and wild and I can’t tell where I end and you begin anymore. You tease me by slowing down and then making me beg you to fuck me harder. I hear your own groans join mine and together we collapse in a sweaty, heavy-breathing heap to the floor. We roll over laughing.

“So,” you say, “nice to finally meet you.”

WickedWednesday

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3 Comments

  1. Well, I’m awake now!!

    Hot damn …

  2. Damn, read it at work again. Will I ever learn? I think I will go take a walk around the block.

  3. ohhhhh fuck.. like Blazer, I will never learn not to read hot smut at work.. goddamn.. i love how you write sex


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