Rebound Sex or Love?

by Irv O. Neil 3 years ago in taboo / erotic

Whether it is in a cheap motel room or a deserted storage locker, rebound sex seldom leads to love.

Damn I have so many books! Every time I go to my storage space, I feel overwhelmed. How did I accumulate so much stuff in only the 20 years since I got out of college? Well, the love of books just leads to more and more, I guess. Maybe I’ll sell some of my books someday, but that day still hasn’t come. Instead, I go to the storage and stand between the two 8' tall rows of over 100 boxes and say, "You’re out of your mind, Ben." Still, one advantage of my storage situation is that I met Lily Snapsit. She’s very pretty but quirky, too. She has a space a few feet across the aisle from mine, and I got to know her because we both go there at the same unlikely hours to do our thing. My thing is to stare at my books and ask myself where to begin to start selling them. Her thing is to take pinup pictures of herself in the empty space. Lily "Snapsit"—you see?

She puts on different costumes and sets up her camera and takes flash pictures against the stark background of her 5 by 10' foot locker. And they’re good. Something about her smile lights up that space, whether she’s in a bathing suit or a cowgirl outfit or a secretary’s duds. She puts her pictures online and has gained quite a following. She says her pinups symbolize the tenacity of glamour against the darkness of technology. Or something like that. I sure like Lily but always figured the age difference was a problem. I'm 42 and she's probably 27 or 18. Then, the other day…

Consoling Her After the Breakup

I went to my space around two in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It’s when the place is usually deserted. I can go then because I work at night teaching English and creative writing at a local college.

I saw that Lily’s door was open a crack, but there wasn’t the usual sound and sight of her flash going off, and the click of her high heels as she arranged a shot. She always wears heels in her pictures. She was very quiet now. I didn’t want to intrude, so I went to my own space and actually, believe it or not, started making a list of the book boxes I could start selling. But I was worried about Lily. What was she doing in there today? She was always so effervescent. So I went over.


I heard a sniffle. "That you, Ben?"

"Can I come in?"


I opened the heavy metal door and saw that she was sitting on her posing stool in a 50s style skirt and blouse, with nylon stockings and slingback peep toe shoes. Gil Elvgren, the great pinup painter, couldn’t have ordered a more perfect model. Even with her eyes obviously red from crying.

"He went vanilla, Ben. My boyfriend went vanilla."

In one of our conversations she’d mentioned some guy named Jason she was serious about. A prominent cardiologist, he was supposedly crazy about her and wanted to marry her and fund all of her future art projects. In fact, it was he who paid for her storage space which, if it was anywhere near the price I paid, wasn’t cheap.

"I’ll miss this space," said Lily. "It’s only mine till the end of the month. But I’ll miss Jason more."

Lily’s Legs

How Jason could reject Lily was beyond me. Her legs alone were flawless. I know that’s shallow of me, but I notice the physical first. Clearly Lily had many other worthy attributes and I could see them also. Feisty, brainy, unpredictable, I would’ve married her if I didn’t have commitment issues a foot thick around my psyche.

"I thought I’d utilize the space right to the end," she said. "I was going to pose with some donuts. You want a donut?" She pointed to a box on the shelf near the door. "Boston cream. Chocolate frosted. Honey glazed."

I wanted to touch her legs. I squelched my lechery and had a honey glazed. I am a good listener and I prepared to utilize that particular aspect of my personality if Lily needed a shoulder to stain with her tears.

She stood up and stretched her arms upward. They looked lovely in the long sleeved vintage blouse, and made me imagine a stenographer who’d just finished taking down a long stint of dictation back in the day. "Time for a donut myself," she said, coming over to the box.

Now we were closer. Standing there in the small room, with her camera on a tripod nearby. "Want some of my coffee? I hope you don’t mind cream and sugar." She held up a McDonald’s cup, and I took a sip as I ate my donut.

Lily gazed at me. "We’re two peas in the storage pod, Ben. You and your books. Me and my pinups."

"You’ll be able to shoot more pinups elsewhere. You could shoot a few in my space, if you don’t mind standing between two hulking walls of cardboard boxes. You could wear your best nylons and pretend the walls are closing in. That would work with your basic theme of feminine glamour as a holdout against the claustrophobia of an intrusive society." I was attempting to quote something she’d said in an online interview.

Not the Marrying Type

"Jason decided I wasn’t the kind of wife he wanted. He was 'conflicted.' Liked me for a novelty, but finally…some Connecticut girl from a stuffy family won his heart and everything attached to it. She burrowed into his ventricles, Ben. She’ll give him a home and babies and only pose for pinups when he holds up his phone and says, 'Lemme get a shot of you in your new bathing suit, honey.'"

"Didn’t you want babies?"

"Brrr, no. Am I bad for feeling that way?"

"Not according to me."

We kept our voices low so that if other people were around on the floor they wouldn’t hear. But the softness of our tones, almost in whispers, created a greater feeling of intimacy between us. In the middle of the afternoon in this storage facility, we were really alone together.

She wore a subtle perfume, something like pineapple. Her hair was up in a ponytail. I worked hard to maintain my friendship mode, but I wasn’t succeeding.

"You look pale, Ben."

"Do I? Didn’t sleep well last night, maybe. But I’m more concerned about you. Will you be alright? You looked so glum when I came in."

Damn, why was it always so easy for me to fall into the brotherly mode? I had a tough time getting out of it, like quicksand.

Lily put her hand on my forearm. "We quirky types have to stick together. The Quirkies. I wandered from the tribe, and I got taught a lesson."

"Oh, you’ll find another doctor. They’re not all Jasons."

"We did have great fun while it lasted."

It didn’t want to hear about that great fun. I wondered if it could be measured in inches.

"But maybe I should swear off doctor boyfriends permanently?" she added, looking at me. She was almost my height, with bigger eyes.

"Doctors," I said, leaving the word hang, not knowing what to follow up with.

"Ben," she said, reaching across me and pulling the door to her unit more tightly shut. She took a big metal clip, the kind that photographers use to hang scrims and backdrops, and secured the door so it wouldn’t open. Then she looked at me again and said, "Ben, oh Ben."

"Lily, oh Lily?"

Taking Initiative

She laughed. "I don’t bite."

"Biting is okay with me."

"So I guess I have to take the initiative?"

She took the words right out of my mouth. I couldn’t have phrased it better. Lily reached up and held my face in her pink-manicured fingers and kissed me hard, pressing herself against me. I always wanted a pinup to step out of a picture and seduce me, and now I got my wish. I ran my hands over the silk blouse and could feel the warm flowing length of her back, only interrupted by the clasp of her brassiere. I moved my hands around and filled my palms with the sensation of her breasts underneath the blouse in the lacy cups, feeling her nipples harden within. The lingerie barrier was exciting.

We kept kissing, and she lifted up one of her legs so that her skirt fell back and I could feel the garters of her stockings. Then I got a surprise. She had no panties on. I’d seen some of her pinups online and so I knew she usually wore panties, often flashing them in her pictures, but today there were none. I wondered why but didn’t ask. Maybe if she were alone in her little storage studio she would have tried to forget her sadness by rubbing herself off? But I was here, it was just sheer luck that I had come around this day, and her nakedness was open to my fingers, taking them in easily and hotly as we kept kissing.

"Lily…" I did like saying her name. "Lily."

I was stiff and she rubbed me through my jeans, undoing the zipper with a rasp that seemed to echo in the quiet space, and then she had me in her hand, rubbing her palm upwards against the veiny shaft, swirling her fingers over the wetness at the tip and then crouching down quickly to take it in her mouth.

Her hair was still up in the ponytail, of course, and I held it gently in my hand as she kissed my cock and took me deeply into her face. Her cheeks were lightly rouged for the pinup she’d hoped to shoot, and she was altogether so lovely. It was lovelier still that she took me into her lips so spontaneously, so urgently, without really knowing me. But that does happen to people sometimes, although it had rarely happened to me.

Taking it Slow, Then Fast

I didn’t want to cum too fast, but it was possible because she was so exciting, from her face to her clothes to her nylons to her shoes to her whole attitude of sudden desire and total lack of inhibition. I lifted her mouth off my cock and she smiled at how strikingly it loomed between us, leaking a little, and then I pressed her up against the corrugated metal wall of the space and kneeled before her pussy. Her wetness gleamed between the lips and I scooped it out with my tongue and swallowed it down, reaching my hands up to feel her breasts through the blouse again, although by now she was undoing the buttons and pulling down the cups so that her nipples were standing out stiff and pink.

I had to be careful I didn’t knock the camera over by kicking the wheeled tripod, so I gently eased it away with my foot and by that time we were both standing again, Lily pulling off my t-shirt and kissing my chest, and me tweaking her nipples before bending down to suck. The whole thing was a whirlwind and there was so much to do, but we had to do one thing next, which was fuck, and Lily parted her thighs. The tops of her stockings and the garters were like guideposts to the treasure. She held my dick in her hand, rubbed and caressed and prepared it for the journey, then she tugged me inside and leaned back against the wall.

I supposed she was trying to forget Jason or maybe get even with him, and if I had a hat on I would have doffed it to the dolt, because he’d done me a favor, putting me in this sweet place between her legs. We fucked fast and hard, it had to be that way because if it went on too long it would feel like a relationship and that’s something neither of us wanted, I figured. We forgot where we were momentarily (at least I did and she seemed to be doing the same) and I guess we made a bit of noise but then suddenly our breathing ratcheted up and our gasps, and finally we were cumming, maybe not at the same time but near enough to make it seem sweetly so.

Moving On

Then we held each other for a long while, saying nothing, alone together in this space where she made pinups, and I didn’t know what I’d just gotten myself into; but maybe like with all the books I’d accumulated into a library without realizing it or planning for it, I would eventually find out. Maybe I would be with Lily just for this minute, or maybe for longer.

"Well, that was a nice interlude!" Lily suddenly said, looking refreshed and moving out of my arms and straightening her clothes. "I think perhaps I can get on with my life now. Want another donut, Ben?"

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Irv O. Neil

Writer and editor for erotic magazines. Lover of vintage cuties. Admirer of Asian beauties. Worshiper of the Eternal Feminine in its myriad forms!

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