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The Fourth Night – An Erotic Story in 4 Parts

We have come to the end of our erotic adventure – which started here, and continued here and here. Read on if you’re ready to read as these two lovers reach the climax of their story…

***

The relationship that binds us is made up of fleeting encounters that infuse our relationship with the breath we need to survive until the next visit. And  every time, I arrive gasping for air. My desire for him is a constant necessity that leaves me no way of thinking about anything else, that I can not deceive or ignore. A physical and vital need.

I do not know if it’s the same for him, but I know it’s not enough anymore. And  these past 3 days together have shown me exactly the measure of what is not enough for me anymore.

This is the tenor of my thoughts when I wake up at dawn on the fourth day, the last that we are given to spend together: tomorrow I will take a train that will take me back to my city and my life without him. I extend a hand, as usual to the space that I know is empty of the bed, aware of having slept, for another night, at the edges of it, and then contact with another body makes me jump,

Before realizing that the most logical consequence of finding a body asleep next to me, in the same bed, after a night of love, is that this body belongs to the person with whom we made love, I have time to pass in review at least a couple of frankly quite absurd alternatives.

When I finish formulating the second hypothesis (a stranger has broken into the hotel room to sleep next to me) I am lucid enough to understand that there is no stranger: the man next to me is the man I have been seeing – for however brief of visits – for 6 months.

As if I had formulated this thought aloud, or rather had shouted it, Stefan suddenly jerks awake and leaps from the bed to look at me with a terrified expression. The expression on his face and his wild hair in the early morning are so funny that I can not stop myself and burst into an uncontrollable laugh.

It’s the first time I’ve laughed in four days.

***

While nosing my car into the early morning traffic, I try to concentrate on the work waiting for me at the office, but after the fog I was in when I left yesterday at lunch, I’m not having much luck. but the fact of having left everything halfway through yesterday does not help me. I hope Tina has clearer idea that I do – though I can already picture her stern face and look of disapproval she will notices me wearing the same clothes as yesterday. In accidentally falling asleep at the hotel last night, I hadn’t set an alarm and so had no time to stop off at home.

I knew it would happen, it is the simple and inevitable consequence of a series of unforgivable concessions that I had made myself. First of all, four nights together are too many, we have always said, the old scheme of the short weekend, from Friday to Saturday, worked perfectly and the single night midweek even better, there was no reason to change it. Then, not only was I spending each evening with her, I also skipped out on work for nearly the entire day. Only to end up like  that this morning.

In bed together.

***

I wake up again and this time I’m alone, but the image of Stefan, ruffled and stunned, puts a smile on my face that will be difficult to erase.

I stretch languorously and then sit up to look at the table: as expected, a rich breakfast has been delivered and, after three days when I practically fed only sex, I realize I’m ravenous. Approaching the feast, I see our ever open suitcase, displaying its goodies to whomever entered the room. Its series of creations whose erotic purpose is quite evident, was sure to make us legends among the staff.

I look at the objects we have used together: the whip that looks so harmless but of which I still bear the signs of, the handcuffs that though pretty, completely subdued me. I watch the vibrator with a sinuous shape and I am tempted to take another turn; I caress it, its surface is impalpable, its curves tempt me. Then my attention moves on the only three objects that we have not yet tried: a pair of ben wa balls, a plug and an instrument that I really do not know the function of.

And then I had an idea.

***

As expected, my late arrival in yesterday’s clothes didn’t go unnoticed. Tina gave me A Look – one that made clear everything she thought of me, none of which was complimentary. As if her eyes hadn’t  said enough, she followed me into my office to rattle off all the fire consequences of my defection yesterday. In five years of working together I had never left so suddenly, and it clearly had thrown her off. I listened t resignedly,  and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when she left and I finally started working.

Now it’s nearly lunch and I feel like I’ve found my feet again. Accumulated work has been dealt  with to an acceptable level, so I allow myself a few moments to think – not about last night or even the night to come, but the practical steps needed to reorganize myself. I could go home during lunch to shower and change, then I could go straight back to the hotel after work, I shouldn’t be too late…

The ringing of the phone interrupts me.

‘Yes, Tina?’ I asked with annoyance.

‘There’s a young lady here for you.’

‘A woman?’ Tina’s tone was controlled but outraged, whereas mine was utter confusion.

‘She did not give a name, but says you have an appointment.’ Now her tone suggesed skepticism. But  I barely hear it – my focus has has moved into an irrational part of my body, a part that I’ve spoiling a bit too much lately.

‘Let her in,’ I say, and hang up before giving my secretary time to formulate other feelings.

***

The expression on his face as I walk through his office door is identical to the one this morning, but I stifle the laugh this time. As I turn to close the door, he’s already walked toward me, planting a kiss on my lips that makes me melt.

‘How did you find me?’

I would like to tell him that Googling his name brings up his office address in .67 seconds, and I don’t need to have him followed as he did for me, but I’m enjoying his incredulity.  

‘I have my sources,’ I say mysteriously.

‘It’s a beautiful surprise.’

‘And the surprises don’t end there,’ I say with a wicked smile.

I undo my long coat to reveal the silver evening dress I’m wearing under it. I hear him give a single sharp inhale as he takes it all in. He has always chosen my clothing for our meetings – a habit that  started by chance and that became part of our game, a game that I had always enjoyed with pleasure. Not today.

‘Surely the surprises don’t end here …’ he murmurs, touching the delicate strap. I  lean even close to his body, letting my lips brush against. He lets the strap fall from my shoulder and bends down to follow the curve that starts from my ear with his burning lips. A shiver runs through me, waiting for his hand to go lower.

I don’t have to wait long.

His lips are moving towards my breast, his hands run over my back, they cling to my bottom … I hold my breath. He lifts my dress, hoping, I know, that I’m not wearing underneath, and lets his fingers move between my legs until a sudden moan lets me know that he’s found his surprise.  

***

I pull away from her as if I’ve been shocked. And the expression of triumph I read in her eyes confirms that I was not mistaken. I slip my hand again between the voluptuous roundness of her ass, on her silky skin, I walk the sinuous line until my fingers hit a small metal ball, warm as her body, for the second time. but definitely foreign to it.I turn her around, I get down on my knees and the sight of the little sphere, adorned by an intricate design, nestled between her buttocks sends me into delirium: she wore the anal plug I had reserved for our last night together! I touch the sphere with my fingers, I pull it and I rotate it slightly and she languishes in response,

With a single motion, I stand up and push her so that she’s sitting on the edge of the desk. Lifting her dress and placing her legs on my shoulders I take in the glorious view that is her excited body. It’s then that I notice the little black cord – are those the ben wa balls from the suitcase?standing up and I take it in my arms, the adagio on the table, I lift the dress, I lift my legs and

‘I know you can’t have a third surprise for me,’ I say, thinking about the final object from the set – a dildo of sorts with a very, very imaginative shape.

‘I thought I should save something for later.’ she murmured.

***

‘Don’t forget we’re in an office,’ he says, before ducking down before me. His lips, then his tongue, hot as they chart their slow course up and down me.He says. Then he slides between my legs and I feel his hot mouth leaning on me. I stretch out on the desk while I tightening my legs around his head. I begin to moan slightly but he stops his attentions to whisper ‘Shhhh’ against my body, this vibration of air almost as exciting as his tongue.  Again he turns his mouth to that deliciously slow journey from my clit, all the way downward, and then up again.

I moan again and this time he stops to look at me.

‘I’ll have to cover your mouth then.’

Before I have time to realize what’s going on, he’s stood up and flipped me onto my stomach.

One of his hands caressed my cheek before covering my mouth, while I feel him gently pull at the plug I’m wearing with the other. Slight resistance at first, and then I feel it slip from my body with a strange sensation that makes me shiver. I use one of my arms to pull at the coat I’ve abandoned on the table, and he pauses.

‘Left pocket,’ I murmur into his hand. His hand leaves my ass to wrestle a small sachet from the coat, which I hear him tear open with his mouth. Then I feel his fingers, slick with lube, enter me, followed shortly by his tip. Slowly, he takes the place of the plug, pushing farther inside me. I moan into his hand.  

Begin to move, at first slowly, he increases to a steady page that pushes me against the table with every stroke and makes the balls thud inside my vagina. I keep moaning against this head, trying not to match the strength of the orgasm building inside of me, and failing. Still, he pushed on, now grunting as he pushes the desk out of its divots on the carpet. And then, I feel it break inside me, sending infinite waves of pleasure, like a stone thrown in water, and I lose track of time and space.

***

We walk side by side, as we did yesterday.  I don’t even bother looking at Tina – I know what face she’s making – nor do I bother telling her that I’m taking the afternoon off.

The air is crisp and I imagine you’re cold with just that thin coat and that dress with nothing below.  The thought that only those two light layers of fabric separate me from her naked body makes me shiver with excitement and hold her to me, while I sink my mouth into her hair that smells of sex. She pulls me to her in turn, then raises on the tips to whisper in my ear:

‘Fortunately we still have that third to try,’ she says, smiling at me slyly, ‘Otherwise we would not know what to do.’

We both laugh, with that silly face of happy people.

***

The young woman hugs herself in her light coat as she watches the arrival of the train. Around her the usual crowd of stations at lunchtime, students with voluminous backpacks, men on a business trip, women alone, like her. Her figure stands out among the others, a little incongruous; it could be the slightly retro-looking leather case that she holds with both hands, it  might also be because the temperatures has dropped quickly in the last days and her beige trench coat and her bare legs do not match the heavy coats and long pants of everyone around her.

She looks around, barely noticing the announcements and whistles of departing trains. A man spies on her from a distance, hidden behind a pillar. The train closest to her begins to trundle to life and she checks her ticket, then gets in line behind the other passengers.

Then, a hand pulls the suitcase from her. It’s him.

There is a jostle of confusion around them as they stand in the middle of the platform; people grumble as they’re forced to move around them toward the train. But they don’t care.

‘Stay?’’ He asks her.

A pause; neither long nor short, but his heart stops and makes it feel like an eternity..

‘Yes,’ she says finally.

She always says yes. The man takes her by the hand and pulls her from of the crowd, along the quay, towards the exit.

‘Where are we going?’ she asks, as they exit the station.

‘Home, Irene, let’s go home,’ he answers.

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About Donna Turner

Donna is a Volonté contributor and freelance writer who lives in San Francisco with her husband and two sons. Her work has appeared in Psychology Today, Go! Magazine (Australia) and is regularly featured in the San Francisco Herald.

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