Jordan Knight Snapshots (Mature)

Can't Let Go

It's hard for me to tell him no. And he knows it. He pulls me in every time. Uses his power over me like a master to a slave. I am addicted to him in the worst way. And I don't know what to do about it. I saw him last night. He was in town and he called me. I went running, as I normally do. Every time we're together I tell myself it's the last time and it never is. I tell myself I'm not going to answer his calls and I do. I tell myself I'm not going to run to him and I can't get in my car and start the engine fast enough when he summons me. He is everything to me. Everything. But he is not 100% mine. I share him. With his wife and his children.

He is the first and only man I have ever slept with. I have come close to sleeping with others but like a person with ESP, Jordan always calls right before the action goes down. That's his name. Jordan. I'm sure you know him from New Kids on the Block. The sweet one. The quiet one. The one with the charming dimples. But what the public doesn't know is his dark side. His demanding side. His possessive side. How with one look he can make me drop my panties, even after I've been screaming at him for hours or I've just finished crying my eyes out. Why do I let him do that to me? Why?

I sit and stare at the phone, willing it to ring. It's Saturday night and I'm alone. I don't usually see him two nights in a row but I'm praying this night will be different. He had a show in town last night and he stayed an extra day on business. During his performance, he eyed me in the audience several times, tugging at his ear, which is our special code. The tug is always followed by a subtle gesture, either close to his head or his heart to let me know I'm not far from either one. He tucks me away in the shadows where no one can see me, but he knows where I sit. He's sent for me in different cities numerous times and I always go, no questions asked. I'm sure his wife is somewhere near some of those times, but I don't care. Theirs is a marriage of convenience. But he still won't let her go and I'm still the side piece. A role that I am sick of playing.

I wish I could move on to someone else, love someone else. But I can't. I feel so stuck. So caught. I deserve better. I deserve more. But Jordan is all I want. Him and no one else.

I jump with a start as the phone rings, startling me. My heart leaps with adrenaline when I see his name on the caller ID. I pick it up on the second ring. "Hello?" I answer, a little too eagerly.

"The Hilton. Room 508. Twenty minutes."

I feel my conscience squeezing me, begging me to turn him down; to reconsider; to leave him alone and turn away. Oh, if I were only that strong. "Jordan- "

"Twenty minutes baby," he repeats in a no-nonsense tone. "Or I'm coming to get you."

The calls ends, and I tearfully stare at it for minutes, gritting my teeth. On automatic pilot, I get dressed, get in my car, and go to him.

I arrive at the hotel in less than twenty minutes. My body is on fire and ready for him. Last night was not enough. I need to touch him again and have him touch me. I need to run my fingers through his hair; see his face in my pussy, feel his tongue inside of me. I want to watch his dick going in and out of me. I am not a lady when I am with him. Sure, we have our moments of cuddles and sweetness and small talk but sex is our language. That is how we communicate. It is always good, and it is always dirty. And that's the way we like it.

I race through the lobby of the luxurious hotel and catch an elevator, just as it's getting ready to close. A couple is on there making out like there's no tomorrow and it only makes me more anxious for him. When the doors open, I run out of the elevator and hurry to room 508, knocking loudly on the door.

The door opens, and I see my love standing there. He gives me that killer grin that always makes my panties wet. He's dressed in only a towel and a smile. He looks good enough to eat. I want to taste every inch of him. I want to drop to my knees and service him like a school girl gone bad. But I wait. He likes to make the first move. He loves being in control.