October Rendezvous

“You know we talked a lot about revenge,” he noted, leaning himself back against the small countertop of the hotel room kitchenette. The room was standard and clean, and the yellow-shaded lamps were comforting after having come in from the cold.

“We did,” she answered back, turning her face to hide the curl of her lips that matched the sudden curling of her stomach. With a quick turn she made an attempt at fussing with the drapes along the sitting area windows, combing down the stray plumes of the tassel pulls and pretending to sneak long glances out the window, onto the highway and train-tracks intercrossing below.

“Do you still think about it?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, a little too quickly. “No. Revenge implies a need for recompense, to pay back something lost. And now it seems like there really wasn’t anything lost, was there?” She turned back to him and scanned his face. Always the picture of calm, quiet understanding. A gentleness softened out the edges of his jaw and brow, a warmth radiated beneath the calluses of his large hands and the shirt that stretched across taught shoulders. He was growing out his hair, and the slightly mussed ends just barely caressed the rising of his chest as he breathed.

“There was,” he said quietly. “Technically. But not the important parts.” He ran an absent minded hand over his beard, smoothing through the rough new growth.

“But not the important parts,” echoing, nodding, she turned back to the window. Golden leaves littered the grass medians between railway and highway, the passing of cars shooting them swirling into the air. She remembered, briefly, the last autumn night they had spent together, and the painfulness of the next morning’s goodbyes. She felt this pain in a different way than before. It settled into a different region of her body, nestled less into her chest and more into the base of her spine. As if it had happened in a different life cycle than this one. Or that she finally let go of the life cycle that did not belong to her this time around. She took in a long, deep breath, relishing the lightness of it. They had both caused each other pain, but that was over now. In the rubble they had managed to find themselves and each other again, and that was enough.

“I’m curious, though. You said you could probably plan something, if you needed to. Revenge, I mean.”

“Oh sure, but that was a joke.”

“Was it?” His tone was light, but he didn't smile. His light eyes deepened. His mouth was still, compressed into seriousness, but the shape was almost taunting her.

“A joke...I was trying to flirt,” she managed to say. The color of his eyes seemed to choke her from across the room.

“I know,” he chuckled. “But I just wanted to know what was going on in your mind. What kind of revenge you were looking for. If there was something I could give you that might satisfy that revenge, and might also satisfy any drive for repentance I might have.” She raised her eyebrows.

“And do you?”

“What?”

“Repent?”

“For you? Of course.” Any leftover ease fell away from his face.

“I did have a few thoughts,” she said. Shyly, carefully, she turned her body away from the window and stepped in his direction. The small room was all of a sudden much too warm for her comfort. The low coffee table and a short stretch of cream colored carpet separated them, was all that separated them.

“Tell me more.”

“I… wanted to find a way to make you feel like I felt.”

A thick brow arched on his face, almost hidden behind the stray lock of hair that was always tumbling into his eyes.

“I wanted you to ache desperately for something you weren’t allowed to have,” she went on. “Just like I did.”

“Don’t I already?” he teased gruffly, the corner of his mouth sliding in a way that sent the air around her buzzing.

“You’ve said so, yes. But this was different. If I were going to get revenge on you, I’d want you to really feel like… like you need to beg and plead me.”

“And what would have me in that state?” Casually he pushed away from the counter and took several steps towards her, nearly closing the gap between them. The remaining space thrummed with energy, like pressure in a bottle.

Her eyes locked with his for a moment but flickered down to his mouth. She could almost feel the way his pulse thrummed behind the soft skin. Her mind was racing. What it would be like to twist into the warmth of his mouth, to once again feel the strength of his hands holding on to her again after so long. Intuitively, he took another step towards her, as if intending to kiss her. His lips parted without his command, ready to taste her skin of their own volition.

“If you want,” she breathed, looking up and into his eyes as his face lowered down, down, down to hers so painfully slow. “I could show you.”

“Yes,” was all he said. His warm breath heated her face and the simple word almost made her eyes fall back into her skull. As he leaned in even closer, it took all her strength to pull away from the heat of his mouth and step back. In her mind, anything like this would have been much more planned out, much more pre-set. Quickly she remembered the beautifully lacey lingerie set that she had left at home and cursed, picturing her own plain black undergarments under the dingy, warm light of the hotel room. But it would have to do. She was feeling brave, and determined to show him just what that bravery was made of.

Grabbing hold of one of his wrists, she pulled him over to the couch.

“If this ends up being less...vengeful than I planned,” she smiled, “We can just think of this as an experiment of sorts.”

He simply nodded, and sat down as she motioned for him to do so. But that wasn’t quite enough. Scanning the room, her mind raced for a solution to her desire. Wandering around the corner and into the bathroom, she heard him take a deep breath. For just a second, she felt her bravery falter under the desire to impress him, but she pushed it away. The point was to make him suffer and ache for her, but if anything, selfishly, at least this will be another opportunity to run her hands over his skin, to feel the softness of his lips, his tongue, his bite…

A scratchy, white linen bathrobe hung unceremoniously in the open closet by the sink, hidden among the complementary garment bags and ironing board, the waist tie cinching the fabric together into a tight knot. This would have to work. Soon after, around the corner she returned, holding the long white makeshift rope in her hands.

“Do you have any opposition to...being restrained?” she asked shyly. He let out a small chuckle, the air escaping his throat in gruff bursts. He held up his wrists in front of him in response. Her heart beat in her chest so hard she felt as if she might burst. Carefully she took one of those wrists and guided it out and around, gently bending his elbow until his arm was behind him, and his wrist wedged between his back and the couch cushions. He let her do this, his other arm just as cooperatively following her lead. She tied the rope gently around his wrists until it looked like they were nicely pinned to his back. They both knew that with any exertion of his force, the knot would loosen and spring him free, but he settled back against his subdued hands in consenting submission.

“Now,” she explained, her narration unnecessary but comforting to her. “I’m going to start to take off my clothes.” A quick inhale parted his lips in anticipation. She went on softly, “The only rule is that you are not allowed to touch me, or anything else, at any point.”

“That is cruel,” he smirked.

“That’s the idea. Though this whole ‘revenge’ thing only works if I can produce a certain kind of response.”

“We’ll just have to wait and find out,” he muttered, almost whispering. “You’re free to continue.”

“That’s not quite begging.”

“Well this was your idea, after all. To illicit begging you might need a bit more. I’ve seen you without clothes plenty of times.” His comment sent a thrill through her, of both irritation and excitement. She knew exactly what he was doing, but she was ready for him.

“Okay.”

Her posture slowly changed as her eyes locked into his, and then fluttered closed. She rolled her shoulders back, and then her neck. Her hands found the sides of her thighs, sliding up to her hips, her waist, until they met in front of her belly, over her breasts, and then caressed her shoulders. With a long, slow breath, she settled comfortably into the space. She kicked off her shoes and pushed them neatly under the coffee table.

Music. Music would have been smart, but the situation surprised her. While it was true she had been fantasizing about teasing him this way, she never thought she would get her chance. Her socks came off next, and her bare toes wiggled into the carpet delightfully. He watched her every move so intensely, she already felt mostly naked. She kept on. Her hands found the hem of her blouse and pulled it up above her belly, leaving the buttons of her jeans exposed. One by one she popped them open, slowly, all while meeting his gaze. Buttons loose, she slid the pants down a few inches and stopped, raising her brows at him in question. He was so still, completely focused on her and the shimmer of black satin panties peeking out from the gap she had created in her clothing. This intensity was her answer.

With a quick turn, her back was to him. She tilted her head back to loosen her hair and relax her shoulders. The queen size bed beckoned to her from across the room, the pressed white linens clean and inviting. Her face warmed as she thought about being laid out on top of that smooth spread of the comforter. She slid her hands to her back and slowly pulled farther on her pants, sliding them down the last of her lower back, down onto the crest of her backside, and then lower until the fullness of her bottom was exposed. She felt the open air against the skin not covered by her panties. Shimmying her hips slightly, she slid completely out of her pants and kicked them recklessly to the side.

The air on her bare legs and hips was intimidating, but the feeling energized her, and she slowly turned back toward him. There was fire in his stare. Her heart sped, and more than anything she wanted to abandon her plan and crawl into his lap and take his face into her hands. She reached to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up above her breasts, breaking her gaze on him only briefly as she harshly tore the shirt up and over her head, tossing it somewhere behind her. In only her bra and panties now, her hands found the warm skin of her torso and explored the softness. The sound of his breathing grew louder, more rough. Breaking her gaze away from the fire in his stare and the stillness of his face, she found a bulging in his pants. A pull deep down in her stomach longed to feel the hardness of his flesh, and she let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you stopping?” he asked.

“Would you like me to stop?”

“Do as you please, I’ll be a compliant captive either way,” he tried at a playful smirk, but the heat that radiated from his body did not cool and she could hear a desire burning in the back of his throat. But it was not enough for her, not enough to count as the revenge she had dreamed of.

She carefully slid her arms out from her bra straps before reaching one hand around to unclasp the hooks. With the other hand she caught her naked breasts before the falling cups could leave them exposed. Relishing the relief that undoing her bra gave her, she closed her eyes and caressed her chest, massaging. She sighed again in pleasure. Without opening her eyes, she pulled her hands away and let her breasts fall against her chest. In front of her she heard him take a sharp inhale, almost gasping. She couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he muttered.

“I am,” she said, opening her eyes to see his bulge straining against his jeans. Her hands now free, she peeled down the band of her panties, pushing them down over the curve of her ass, releasing the fabric from in between the thickness of her thighs, and letting them fall at her feet. Completely naked now, she shook her hair out until it fell pleasingly over her bare shoulders, and cheekily turned in a slow circle for him.

“I would very much like to be untied now,” he said, his voice thick and dark.

“That’s still not begging,” she said plainly. “Not much for revenge. I don’t think we’re finished here.”

Her devilish courage threatened to falter as they stared each other down. Never before had she been on display in such a way, but the pull of his hips against his pants encouraged her on. Her nakedness was somehow strange and new to him as she paced small circles in front of him, experimenting with the swing of her hips and the roll of her shoulders to test his frozen stare. He could not look away, his eyes glued to every inch of her flesh, hunger burning in his body.

She strolled to her bag, tucked away in the entryway, and returned with a neon-pink cylindrical object.

“What is that for?” he asked. His voice came at her low and quiet and felt like fingers down her spine. It made her shiver.

“I thought I’d bring this just in case,” she said softly, warming the soft plastic in her hands. “I know there was no expectation for sex tonight, but you said you were looking forward to a chance to relax. I thought you could use a little play, if the mood was right. Now I think I’ll take advantage of that mood.”

He did not reply. He just stared at her thick, angelic figure as she strode in front of him and sank down onto the low coffee table. Tall and curved, she enveloped the small table as she laid back, her legs hanging down off the edge. She arched her back to settle onto the cold, still surface, and tried to relax her body. Tentatively, she sent a hand down the side of her neck, over her breasts, down her belly, and down to find the warmth between her thighs. She felt her heart bulge in her chest as she caressed the wetness that she found there. His heat was contagious. It took only the darkening of his eyes and the roughness of his voice, the presence of him across the room where even the idea of his skin on hers left her breathless.

Her fingers slid slowly up and down over her opening, feeling the wet heat spread and her muscles shiver at the sensation. Her eyes fluttered closed, but nearby she heard him moan quietly. Her hips bucked in response, sending her fingers in deeper. The sounds he made were absolutely delicious, she wanted so many more. But that was the whole point of this, wasn’t it? Forcing those sounds out of him the best way she knew how. With one more gentle push she felt her fingers pulse deep within her before bringing them out to her opening again, humming with pleasure.

The buzzing of the little pink vibrator crashed against the hot, thick silence of the room, and they both jerked slightly at the sudden sound. Slowly, agonizingly slow, she lowered the toy to her thighs and rested the buzzing plastic onto her center. Immediately the sensation shot through her body and parted her lips with a gasp and a moan. Her hips rocked back against the table, spreading her legs wider. The smooth head of the toy slipped over her wet flesh with its buzzing, and she felt the muscles deep inside her core curl with tension and pleasure. Slowly again, tauntingly, she slid the toy away from her clit and down the wetness so that it was poised just outside her, the vibrations causing her to ache inside. Another small moan escaped her.

Opening her eyes, she looked over towards him. At this point his shoulders were visibly strained, hunched forward, trying not to undo his bonds but still pulling against them. He watched her ravenously.

“Would you like to watch me come?” she asked, her own voice now as deep and husky as his.

“Yes,” he breathed.

Her toy slid back up to her clit at his words and her body rolled into the pleasure. The buzzing waves turned her breathing to dense fog in her lungs and her hips moved with their own will. Every string in her body tightened and tightened, and she heard herself moaning softly. In no time at all the waves of pleasure choked her, and her body shivered with the powerful release. She gasped as it all washed over her.

Through her own ragged breaths she heard him mutter, “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please let me touch you, let me have you. I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“No? Are you sure you don’t want to watch me come again?” she teased, biting down on her lip to stifle a quiet giggle. He looked into her eyes with liquid fire.

“Please,” he said quietly. “I’m begging you, now. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” she breathed. “Kiss me? Kiss me like you mean it.”

“Yes, of course. Everything you want, love. Please just let me. I need you.”

The combination of endearments and the plea in his voice sent her over the edge. Rolling her body up off the table, legs still weak from her orgasm, she went to him. In a second she was in his lap, her thighs straddling the hardness in his jeans. She reached around to help him free his hands from the tie, but there was no need. It took no time for him to wrench his own arms free, and immediately his hands were on her body. Thick, strong hands made their way up her sides, taking turns caressing her from top to bottom. His lips met hers in a furious crash of skin and tongue and teeth. The room melted away around her, the only thing that mattered was his mouth and the way it enveloped her. With the deepening of every kiss, she ground her hips down over the roughness of his jeans until she could no longer stand the fabric barrier.

He immediately understood her intentions, his hands already undoing the button at his waist, as she peeled herself back from him and off his lap. As he slid out from his pants, she crossed the room towards the pillowy hotel bed. She had only just turned to face him when he met her there, grabbing her tightly in his arms, pressing her body against his, their chests flush together. The heat of his skin burned her in the most beautiful, delicious way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair until she had a lock hold onto the base of his skull, keeping him as close to her as she could. He forced her backwards onto the bed, falling on top of her and pinning her under his body, his hardness pressed into her inner thigh. She moaned loudly, the sound surprising her, having seemed to come suddenly from deep within her.

He pulled back from her just enough to gently push her legs apart and position himself at her opening. Without hesitation, he tenderly slid inside her with a long, breathy moan. The slow pressure of him inside her caused pleasure to roll up her back in shivering waves. He was somehow even larger than she remembered, filling her all the way to the end. Her hips rolled into his as their torsos met, her thighs pushed open wide by his movement. As her hands fell away from his neck and back onto the bed, he began to speed up, adding more pressure and strength to his thrusts. The gasp she let out at the sensation drove him wild, he grasped her hips tightly in his hands as their bodies came together in rough, slamming movements.

He pounded against the spot deep inside her and she could not keep track of the desperate, gasping moans that curled out from her chest. Her body felt like it was melting back into the bed, her legs liquefying and her abdomen tightening and releasing wildly. All at once the rush of feeling shot through her body like lightning, and she reached out for him, hands curling around the sides of his waist, fingernails digging into his skin. He shivered violently in response and moaned loudly, lifting her ass up in his hands to angle himself even deeper into her. She screamed in pleasure, and in a few moments the tail end of her release intertwined with his.

Both panting, he lay next to her in the center of the bed, covers and pillows still untouched. He smiled lightly at her and she stretched her arms up and nestled her chin into the soft comforter. The soft bedding was wonderful and comforting after their rough, hungry act. He gently folded an arm over her bare breasts as he inched closer.

“So, are you satisfied with your revenge?” he asked, smiling.

“Maybe. Are you satisfied with your repentance?” she asked back. His smile faded slightly.

“Maybe. There’s still a lot that we might need to talk about.”

“I’m okay with that,” she said, running a hand over his bare chest. “Maybe it’s like Catholicism, we need to do this a few more times before you’re truly absolved.”

He laughed softly. “I’m okay with that,” he whispered, placing his lips at the top of her head. The sun had set sometime in between her time out on the coffee table and the journey to the bed, although neither had noticed. The sounds of soft breathing filled one another’s minds as they both drifted to sleep.