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It was a four star hotel and the room was up to that high standard and price. It cost Alex three hundred dollars for the night and it was well worth it. But it wasn’t because of the amenities. They didn’t even notice them. The room had a bed and four walls and a closed door and that was all that mattered. It was worth it because they were finally alone together.
Zawe walked over to the dresser and put down her bag. She caught her reflection in the mirror and closed her eyes. Was she really going to do this? She wanted to so badly. But if she did what would happen afterwards? How would she feel in the end? A few minutes of pleasure wouldn’t be worth the days of regret, she was telling herself when she felt him come from behind, his hard body pressed into hers, his erection at the cleft of her ass, pushing through his pants, his hands slipping through her dress touching her breasts—finally touching her breasts, and they were beautiful breasts, pear shaped and firm, b-cups but felt deceptively bigger; her nipples in his palms, she felt them harden as well as her resolve. This felt too good to stop. Stop being the good girl for once. She leaned her head back exposing her neck; he came in closer; he inhaled her; he kissed her—finally he kissed her. Her lips were full and sweet from the wine. Their tongues were entities all their own; spoke their own language. It was a contradictory tongue as they concurrently wanted to caress and devour each other. She thought she could have stayed kissing him for an hour. Yet just as that thought came to mind it went away. She wanted more. She turned around and faced him and began leading him backwards. He directed them to the bed but no, “The floor,” she said. He happily obliged and went down. She got on top and straddled him. He threw off his blazer and began unbuttoning his shirt, but “No, let me,” she said,” and he obliged again. She unbuttoned it but didn’t take it off, but it was enough to see his chest and abs. His abs were so defined they could have been a musical instrument. She played with them with her fingers while his hands went behind her and found her ass—finally—and it was bountiful and beautiful. How many times had he watched her from behind and imagined gripping it as he was now; firm, round, smooth and with a slight chill, which made him so incredibly hot, and hard, so very very hard. He went to his pants so that he could free himself and go from one enclosure to the next, but again she stopped him and chose to do it herself. She unbelted and unzipped his pants but just enough to expose his erection beneath it. She hiked up her dress and began to grind him. This felt incredibly good to the both of them. Zawe especially as she dry humped unabashed. Yet as good as this felt Alex knew it would feel infinitely better without clothes. “Okay, Zee, let me put my pants down,” he said but she didn’t hear him. “Zee, let me—” he attempted to continue but she kissed him. He tried to reach for his pants but she pinned his arms down and continued grinding, harder, faster, wetter. This was beginning to drive Alex insane and Zawe . . . to an orgasm—an audible one. She moaned like a baby wolf that slowly turned into a cat then collapsed on his chest completely spent.
“Can I pull my pants down now?” Alex asked ready to experience a climax of his own.
“Sure . . . I’m done,” she said.
He didn’t like the way that sounded. It sounded very final.
“What do you mean you’re done?”
“I mean I came.”
“I know, I saw. Now let me make you come again.”
“That’s okay, I’m good,” she said and started rising to her feet.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m tired. I’m gonna go home now.” She began fixing her dress.
“Go home? You’re not serious . . . you’re not serious.” She began touching up her hair. “Are you fucking serious? Zawe,” he shouted.
“Alex I’m tired and I wanna go home. Can you do me a favor and tell your family I got sick and I had to go.”
“Are you really serious? Are you really going to leave me like this?” He got to his feet. “Look at this,” he directed her to look down at his erection, which was stretching the elastic lining of his boxers. “I’m so hard I could fuck through a wall.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh this is funny to you. Oh well, you know what, you lost the bet.”
“If that’s your idea of sex you go right ahead and believe that,” she said, then picked her bag up from the dresser, turned and exited the room leaving Alex both flummoxed and pissed.
“Oh you bitch, you bitch, you bitch, you—beautiful fucking bitch. You sexy ass bitch. Oh I was so close, so close—and now I’m so hard. Why am I still so hard?”
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