Reset Password
Reset Link Sent
| Blogs > ThomBombadil > Vs. The World. |
Control Part 1
|
Control Part 1 The orange glow of incandescent hotel lighting on skin. I can never forget that. No more than I can forget the smell or the taste or the feel of it. The smell of her sweat. Of her lotion. Of the hormones pouring out of her. I run my hands down the soft skin of her shoulders, my lips gently on her neck, lightly kissing. I pull her back into me, feeling the luscious curve of her ass against my hips. A strong hot tingling sensation runs though my body, from the base of my skull, down my spine, into my cock as our bodies move against one another. I kiss her neck again, my lips parting enough this time to taste the sweet salt of her skin. My heart pounds a little harder. He heads tilts away, opening up more of her neck for me to kiss slowly up, taking occasional nips at her skin as I do. A hand comes up to grasp the back of my head, pushing my face deeper into her skin. My own hand traces up her arm, over her collarbone, finding it's way to her throat. I wrap my fingers around it and give it a gentle squeeze. She lets out a soft moan, a voiceless, breathy "yes" as her hand comes up to meet mine at her throat. My other hand traces down her side, fingers lightly following the supple curves until I reach her thigh. I feel the soft fabric of her dress around the shape of her ass, my hand barely touching but just enough to let her know it's there. I give it two soft pats- a warning, before giving it a firm smack, sharp enough to make her jump slightly. "Thank you, sir," she whispers. The words light my heart on fire. "You've been a good girl tonight. A very good girl." And she has. *** The dim lights of the hotel bar revealed just enough to keep me busy while I waited. At the end of the bar another couple sat. A little older. Mid fourties maybe. A pudgy, average guy in a green wool suit with and bright red tie, almost as if he was preparing for Christmas a scant 4 months too soon. The suit looked like it had been purchased at a thrift store years ago. Perhaps it was his only suit. He sat back against the edge of the seat, his head raised up high, maybe in an attempt to hide his thinning patch of orange hair. He nursed a glass of whisky in front of him as he chattered away to a woman far too attractive for him. She focused her eyes moreso on the drink than the man she had clearly overestimated when they set up this evening out. Slender fingers with painted red nails grasped at a straw which she was using to continuously stir the concoction in front of her. Her black dress hung tight to a lean body, long straight hair draped down over her shoulders tracing its way to the rather conservative neckline on the garment. Occasionally she would raise her head slightly, red painted lips parting to grant to occasional "Sure", or "uh huh". Just once she raised her head in my direction, deep hazel eyes meeting mine. I smiled politely. She smiled back, the corners of her eyes betraying the utter tedium of what I surmised was a first date. I nodded, hoping to convey my empathy to her before turning my eyes to the opposite side of the bar, where a pair of men seemed to be having a heated argument about the nature of a college basketball<b> team. </font></b>"Another mate?" "Sure". The bartender poured from the bottle of Jura. 12 year old. Single malt. Neat. "Cheers," I said, raising the glass to him before taking a sip. It went smooth and sweet down my throat, warming my belly as it sank into me. The bartender nodded and went to check on the couple. I heard the woman ask for the check while the man continued to prattle on with whatever nonsense he had been boring her with. "Is this seat taken?" I turned back to the smokey sweet voice to catch the figure in the bright red dress behind me. I glanced up to find a pair of sharp green eyes in mine. "You're a bit late, aren't you?" "I'm right on time." "Excuse me?" "I'm right on time, sir." She smiled as she said it, sweeping a bit of wavy auburn hair off her shoulder. "Sit." She climbed up into the seat beside me, her eyes locked with mine. "Can I get you something?" the bartender asked over his shoulder as he swiped the card of the dark haired woman at the end of the bar. I glanced down the bar to catch her eye again as she waited eagerly to pay her check and escape the man still going on and on beside her. She nodded in my direction this time. "Vodka Redbull". "Such class," I teased her. "I plan to be up late" she retorted. I couldn't help but smile. She laughed, having won a small victory over me. I admired her as she did so, her perfect lips, her bright smile. It was hard not to crack. It was equally hard not to grab her, let my fingers tangle in her hair, and pull her face to mine for a deep, passionate kiss. I fought the urge off and did my best to regain my composure. It was going to be a long evening for me. A very long evening. And one that I was greatly anticipating. *** "Everything in moderation, including moderation" - Oscar Wilde |
Become a member to create a blog
