Thirty-Four Oh Five – An Erotic Story
My room is dark and my bed is empty and fuck I wish you were here.
The sheets around me slip and slide. Cool to the touch, they prick at my skin and send shivers down my spine. The folds trace at my arms, hips, stomach, inner thighs, and though my room is dark I still close my eyes.
If you were here…
Cold air would rush in as you pull back the covers, but your warmth would chase it away just as quickly. Your chest to my back, hands to my waist, hips to my ass.
Lips against my neck.
Breath right by my ear as you whisper, I’m home.
You settle in behind me and I sink back into you as your fingertips trail over my stomach, to the curve of my waist, up over my ribs, and down again.
The third time you reach my ribs you pause for a second, tapping at my hip, and I twist to meet your gaze. I can’t make out much with the lights out, but the moon through the blinds reflects in your eyes, focused in on me.
Okay? you ask.
Yeah, I answer. Definitely okay.
Your fingers splay over my neck and your thumb angles my jaw and your lips find mine in the dark. My breath escapes me this time as you grind into me and the sound I make echoes louder against your mouth.
You swallow it all.
I bite down, hard, to keep quiet, but you tilt my head back and nip at my bottom lip, coaxing it free and kissing me again.
C’mon, babe. Let me hear you. Don’t be shy.
And when you sink your teeth into my neck, oh, do you hear it.
Hardness presses into my lower back, and I hum at the sensation. You’re wearing the strap-on. The one that’s my favourite. The one that unhinges my jaw and sits heavy on my tongue and leaves me panting when you pull back.
The one that vibrates.
I spin in your arms, pushing you onto your back and find your mouth again as I straddle you.
Your fingers dig into the flesh of my ass, nails biting in and dragging down my thighs. My hips move involuntarily and a guttural huff escapes my throat as your palms leave and come down with a resounding smack.
I grip at the sheets, breathing deep to clear my head, but you don’t give me a chance. Your hands come down again as you buck up into me and the friction is so good I can’t help but moan into the crook of your neck. It stings. It stings. Fuck yes it stings.
More, I whisper, muffled against your skin.
The next slap has me sitting up, throwing my head back, and grinding down into you. I brace myself against your thighs and nearly lose my balance when you follow, pushing yourself up with one hand and wrapping the other around my waist.
The heat of your mouth envelops my nipple as you suck and flick it between your teeth. I lose all strength in my body as your tongue drags against me, and when you switch from one to the other my breathing stutters.
Your mouth slides free when I bow forward, arms falling slack over your shoulders.
Fuck me. My voice cracks over the words. Please. Just fuck me.
And despite how fast you flip us, you support my body and keep my head tucked into your shoulder as you lay me down and settle between my thighs.
Your lips find mine again and my breath hitches when the length of the strap-on rubs against me. I grip at your back and slide my hands lower, grappling at your thighs to keep you close when you pull away.
The loss of contact is jarring, but you return quickly and I can feel your hand working over the strap-on, fingers slick with lube.
Patience, babe, you say, not hurting you today, taking your time, kissing me once before pushing into me not nearly quick enough.
Inch by inch you fill me in long, languid strokes, agonizingly slow and deliciously deep. You press in, stretch borderline painful, until you’re flush against me and you pause.
C’mon, I breath next to your ear, goading. That all you—ah!
Shocks course through my entire body as you finally, finally fully thrust into me, with the vibrator turned on.
I grip at your shoulders and press my forehead into your neck as your hips drive forward even deeper. My breath is hot against your skin and then suddenly not as your fingers weave into my hair and yank my head back.
I hum and grin as you tug at my roots, hard.
Touch yourself, you say, eyes blazing. Fuck yourself while I fuck you.
My eyes roll back as you go deeper still and the deeper you go the more I can’t keep quiet. I slide a hand between our bodies, working myself as you pick up pace, my voice rising higher, moves more erratic, whole body clenching, legs tightening, and—
I writhe in your arms, sounds ripping from my throat, as I bite harder into your shoulder with each wave that hits me. My chest heaves against yours, slick with sweat, and tears prick at the corners of my eyes as you move faster, chasing your own release.
I pull you close, your moans raw in my ear as you cum, and I relish in your weight against my body as your movements start to slow. I press my lips to your neck, over the mark I’ve surely left, and trail fingers along your back as you come down.
You in my bed in my arms is what I want. I want that more than anything.
But for now, it’s you and me, here, together.
And this is pretty awesome too.
[Call Ended – 34:05]
Arin is an office worker in Toronto, Canada, channeling her current quarantine frustrations into reading and writing. When not glued to her laptop or scribbling plot lines in journals, she can be found with her two dogs on the couch, stuck in a book unable to hear you.