The day seemed endless with errands and work in her studio. She’s been preparing paintings for an upcoming show and has been so stressed about getting it all done that tonight, she just wanted to put on her dress, drink something delicious and dance.
Her phone chimes, interrupting her reverie. She ignores it, taking a generous sip of whiskey. She imagines it’s her brother who has been having trouble with his boyfriend and has been calling her at all hours to discuss the latest.
“Not tonight.” she says to the phone and keeps dancing.
The phone chimes again, stealing more of her attention. She places her drink on the coffee table, careful not to knock a candle and walks to her desk to check the message and put the phone on silent.
She beams as she sees two texts from Jared saying hello and asking what she’s up to. This has been code for “Can I come over?” for a couple of months now.
Katherine laughs at her elation, feeling like a teenager receiving a note from a crush in the hallway between classes. She takes a short drag of the cigarette, and in her tipsy state, wants to say something witty but replies with a simple “yes”.
She sets the phone down and waits for his response, her hips swaying to the music.
When she’s met with silence she walks into the kitchen for more whiskey. Jared playfully gives her a hard time for drinking out of a teacup and not something a little more “normal”, but she waves him off reminding him she’s never been “normal”.
The phone chimes again as she walks back into the living room, bottle in hand. The beads of her dress glint in the candlelight as she pours a little too much, the amber liquid sloshing over the delicate edge. She sets the bottle down, and saunters over to the desk, feelings of eagerness and energy surging through her as she retrieves the message.
“See you in twenty.” he replies.
She sets the phone down, collects her teacup, and walks to the bathroom. She rummages through a drawer of make-up finding her brightest red lipstick, and, leaning forward, her face inches from the mirror, carefully applies it. She likes to see the contrast of the striking color against the pale skin of his cock.
Katherine met Jared at a friend’s art opening. She was engrossed in a large painting of a nude woman sitting at her vanity when he silently joined her, arms crossed, head cocked to the side. Out of the corner of her eye she observed his slim, but sturdy body, and shaggy sun bleached hair brushing his shoulders. He was beautiful and judging by the lack of lines on his face, awfully young compared to her forty three years.
Several minutes went by before he took a side-step toward her. Katherine remained motionless, curious as to what he was going to do as he was standing closer than was necessary.
He slipped his arm around her waist and she turned to face him, a mixture of surprise and interest skipped across her face. His focus remained on the painting as he grinned.
She decided that she would have him, imagining he would be fun and playful in bed if he was going to make such a bold move. She turned her attention to the painting again, noting the sensation of her inner arm brushing against the heat of his fingers.
She crossed her arm over her belly, her fingers meeting his, then lacing with them. She couldn’t hide the flushing of her cheeks or the smile that crept across her face.
His thumb rubbed hers and she stepped closer to him, their hips touching. People walked all around them, but it was as if they were suspended in time as the world went about its business.
Her eyes flirtatiously met his as she stepped away from him, walking away as his arm slipped from her waist. She weaved into the burgeoning crowd, to see what he would do.
The place was like a forest brimming with paintings instead of trees everywhere. It was hard to know what to focus on. She approached another large nude, this one of a reclining female’s back, her long fiery hair draped over a pillow. She stared at the painting for several minutes before turning to look over her shoulder, wondering where the man was.
Friends and acquaintances approached her intermittently. She listened, laughed, talked, and enjoyed their company, but part of her attention was on his whereabouts. Maybe he left. Maybe he thought it was off-putting that she walked away. Maybe he found someone else to tease.
She wasn’t sure how much time had gone by but she spotted him talking to the artist herself and Katherine wondered if they knew each other before tonight or if they had just met. She walked away in the opposite direction of him, his back to her.
Minutes later their eyes locked as he approached a server holding a tray of red wine several feet from her. He took a glass, still watching her. She smiled mischievously, biting her lower lip and walked out the back door for a cigarette half hoping he’d follow.
She fumbled through her little black bag for a lighter and discovered she had forgotten it. She glanced around, holding her unlit cigarette and saw two women smoking, their drunken lilting laughter lighting up the night sky.
“Mind if I use your lighter?” Katherine asked.
“Of course.” the one with the loudest laugh replied. She pulled a yellow lighter out of her jeans pocket and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” Katherine lit her cigarette and handed it back.
She crossed her arms, and walked over to a massive window. She saw him observing a painting, a small portrait that was painted in bright unnatural colors. She watched him interact with a couple who had also stopped to admire the image. She liked his smile and the ease at which he conducted himself all fluid gestures and sparkling eyes.
Katherine brought the cigarette to her lips but didn’t inhale. She thought about how long she was going to extend this hide and seek game. She wondered if he would lose interest and leave but this was so fun that even if he did, she was still satisfied with the fun of hiding and finding him.
She turned around again and looked up at the night sky. The city lights obscured the twinkling of the stars. She flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette and shifted her gaze back to the gallery again. He was gone.
She tossed the cigarette and checked her phone. She had been here for an hour already. She walked back inside and spotted him again, walking over toward her. She grinned and turned, walking away, the hair standing up on the back of her neck in anticipation of him catching up to her, of being caught.
There was a restroom off in the corner and she ducked inside not realizing how close he was.
She startled when she turned to lock the door and he was right behind her, sneaking in before she had a chance to react.
He locked it and grabbed her, one hand behind her neck, the other around the waist and kissed her full on the mouth.
She went limp, and indolent beneath his touch, breathing him in, tasting wine on his breath as her arms circled around him, her palms pressing into his back. His hands snaked through her hair and he pulled. Her head followed his pulling, exposing her throat and he licked her in one long extensive stroke from the delicate space between her collarbones all the way to her chin.
Warmth flooded her cunt, and thighs. She felt disoriented, light headed and dizzy with lust and desire.
He shoved her against the wall, hands kneading at her breasts. He pressed his thigh between her legs and her hips pushed back and forth, grinding against him, her nails clawing at his back as she kissed him hard wanting to take and be taken at the same time.
She felt possessed. She didn’t recognize this ravenous part of her kissing this beautiful man. Sure she had had plenty of sex before with all sorts of partners but this felt other worldly. This was satisfying on a level she didn’t know existed.
The murmuring of voices and music were still going on out the door, but it barely registered to Katherine as she struggled to keep up with the intensity of this stranger consuming her.
He pushed her over to the sink and turned her around so she was facing it. She watched him in the mirror as he pulled up her tight black dress, and yanked her underwear down.
She parted her legs, shifting her hips back while he fumbled with his jeans. Her hands gripped the white porcelain anticipating the entry of his cock. He licked his fingers and touched her cunt first, rubbing her, finding the slick evidence of her desire. She watched him bring his fingers to his mouth again and taste her on his own skin. Someone enjoying her so fully and intensely broke her open and she wanted more.
He touched her again, pressing his palm against her asshole while his fingers swirled around her clit. She melted under his touch, lowering her head, shifting her hips back against his hand. She felt the fibers of her muscles stretch and lengthen as he rubbed her.
His cock split her open, her cunt tightened around the intrusion, then relaxed as he pushed inside of her. She looked up at him, lips parted, air moving in and out of her lungs in full, steady breaths as he fucked her.
Katherine pushed back and forth against him. She reached between her legs to tease her clit as his thrusts became more forceful, hoping that she could come despite being fucked in a bathroom, and hoping that no one was waiting.
His hands gripped her hips tighter as she focused on the sensation of his body against hers, his balls meeting her ass with every thrust, and the sound of his breath. She pressed her clit harder feeling her cunt contract, her body releasing. Her thighs shook as her eyes squeezed shut, back tensing as she came. It was everything she had to stay quiet as the thundering sensation tore through her.
As her body relaxed, his tightened, his warm liquid filling her. She watched his face contort briefly, heard the exhale of relief escape him before his hands let go of her hips, and stroked the sides of her upper thighs and her lower back.
He slipped out of her and she turned to face him, kissing him sweetly, grinning, and whispering, “Thank you. That was fun.”
“It was. I’d like to see you again.” he replied.
She learned his name was Jared and he did in fact know the artist whose show they were at. He took one of her drawing classes at the Art Institute where she taught. From there they saw each other every couple of weeks or so. Sometimes they laid in bed, wrapped in each other, talking or napping, but mostly, there was fucking. Delicious, delectable fucking that left her feeling spent and useless.
She often craved him, his warmth, the pleasure he gave her and the feeling of his body and lips pressed against hers, his arms holding her, but she rationed him out like a favorite dessert, or an engaging book she didn’t want to finish. She wanted to keep the newness of him, wanted to drag it out as long as possible before things became mundane as they sometimes do, or one of them found a partner.
When she finished applying her lipstick, Katherine saunters down the hall and into the living room with her teacup.
The music had stopped. She walks over to the laptop and presses “play”, then adjusts the playlist to repeat. She likes fucking to music. She enjoys re-living the experience in her mind’s eye when she later hears the songs they fucked to.
Her phone rings alerting her to Jared’s arrival. She presses a button to let him in and waits, taking a quick sip of whiskey.
Minutes later he walks through the door, his lips pecking her cheek before stepping back to take her in.
“You’re stunning. Where did this dress come from?”
“A vintage store in Ohio of all places. I’ve had it for years.” she replies, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his mouth.
“Just playing dress up by yourself?” he teases, kissing her back.
“I am, thankyouverymuch. Whiskey?” she gestures to the bottle on her coffee table.
“Yes please, but not in a teacup.”
She laughs. “Picky, picky.”
She walks into the kitchen with him on her heels after swiping the bottle. His eyes follow her around as she gets a tumbler from the cabinet and pours a substantial amount of the alcohol in it.
“There you are princess.” she says jokingly, handing him the glass.
“Don’t hate.” he takes it and ingests a long sip. “Mmm. Thanks. That’s really good.”
“It’s my favorite.”
They catch up about their day, her show, and his classes. His semester is ending and she’s ready for a much needed break. They laugh about the stress relief that’s about to ensue.
“More?” she raises the bottle when he downs the last of his drink.
She fills the glass halfway and sets the bottle down. “I may have to cut you off. I don’t want any whiskey dick.”
“Whatchoo know about whiskey dick?” he grins.
She takes the glass from him and sets it on the counter. “Sit.” she points to a chair at the kitchen table.
He does so, regarding her with curiosity. She kneels in front of him, pulling his knees apart making room to situate herself between them. She unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pulling out his elegant cock, all soft, supple skin, stiffening beneath her touch.
She doesn’t tease or lick him like she usually does. Instead, she puts as much of him as she can into her mouth and slides all the way to the tip feeling him harden completely against her lips. This excites her and she reaches under her dress, the tinkling of the beads on her dress clinking against each other sounding louder than usual in her ears.
She plays with herself under the dress and over her underwear. She wraps her other hand around the base of his cock and squeezes. He expands more in her mouth and she lets go and licks him, lapping the head of him in short bursts before switching to longer strokes with the flat of her tongue while he watches.
Her lipstick has painted his skin a bright cherry red and she stops to admire her work. As she does so, he leans in to kiss her, but she backs away, wrapping her hand around his neck and pushing him back against the chair.
She is used to being taken, to being the one who is owned, who is picked up and tossed around. While she enjoys it, something else is burgeoning inside of her. It’s a part that wants to do the taking, the instructing, and the controlling. She wants to know what it feels like to be on the other side of their exchange for a moment.
He relaxes into her grip while she takes his dick with her other hand and puts it in her mouth again. He puts his hand on the back of her head and pushes, making her take more of him in, but she stops, holding him there between her teeth, threatening pain if he continues to push her head.
He takes in a long deep breath during her pause and when she feels he won’t push her head she continues sucking.
Ordinarily she enjoys having him come in her mouth, but she wants to prolong his orgasm. She wants to fuck it out of him, control when he comes. She notices his breathing becoming more labored and impatient as she alternates between sucking feverishly, and backing off entirely, waiting for him to settle, her hand still wrapped around his neck.
His dick twitches against her tongue as she slides her lips along the shaft. She takes her hand off of his neck and traces lines down the length of his torso, circling his nipples, stopping to pinch one, before continuing along his breastbone. His silky skin feels like a blanket of satin beneath her fingertips, his light downy hair adding a trace amount of texture.
She stands and straddles him, moving her underwear to the side so she can push him inside of her. He grips her ass under her dress as she lowers herself onto his cock, her body straining against his density to take him in.
When he’s all the way inside, she moves her hips in a figure eight motion, reveling in having him deep inside of her. She takes his face in her hands and kisses him, lightly at first, barely brushing her lips with his before kissing him harder. His tongue meets hers and she delights in the taste of his mouth and dick on hers at the same time.
She presses her feet into the floor and raises herself up to where the tip of his cock is the only part that’s inside of her. She teases herself, feeling the ridge that separates the head from the base slip in and out of her cunt.
He pulls her down, but she resists, the muscles of her thighs tightening as she struggles against his hands to remain standing. She grins at him and lets him slip out of her. She kneels again and licks herself off of his cock, tasting the saltiness of her arousal on his skin.
His hand rests on the back of her head and he pushes again, making her taking more of him in and she doesn’t back away, deciding to let him do what he wants for a bit.
He carefully pushes himself up to standing and she looks up at him, his cock still in her mouth. He moves his hips against her and she closes her eyes readying herself for his motions to get faster. When they do, his fingers gripping her hair now as he fucks her face. She relaxes into it, breathing deeply, while paying attention to the frequency of his cock twitching.
She grips his thighs, and pulls her head back a little, alerting him to her wanting to change positions. He slows and pulls himself out of her mouth. She pulls his jeans down, then unzips her dress, letting its weight slip off of her, and land on the floor.
She steps out of it and takes his hand leading him to stand behind her as she bends over the kitchen table.
“Spank me.” she says, reaching for his dick and pushing it inside of her.
He does so, and does it hard, leaving her skin tingling. She holds her breath, waiting for him to strike her again as she moves her hips back and forth against him. She unwinds a little more when she feels both of his hands on her hips, then one hand trailing down her spine.
It’s when she’s completely lost in the sensation of his dick pushing in and out of her, when she’s starting to think about speeding up and teasing her clit that he smacks her again, lighting her skin up and making her yell.
He does it again and again and she slams her hips into him in response. He pulls her hair then presses her face into the table until she stops resisting. Her body opens and relaxes into him.
When she wants to come, she presses her hands into the table and presses herself up, pushing against his hand. He pushes her down and she tries again to no avail. Having to fight against him turns her on more.
She squirms and writhes trying to escape his hand all the while feeling her cunt drench his cock.
He fucks her harder, grabbing her hair and yanking her head back. She cries out and stops resisting for a moment. She reaches for the edge of the table in front of her and hangs on, her knuckles turning white as he continues. She catches her breath before she tries to push herself back up again.
He doesn’t try to pin her down and instead slips out of her, allowing her to turn around and face him.
She kisses him hard, then slaps him across the face. He grabs her shoulders and shoves her against the wall. She wraps her leg around his waist and reaches for his cock, shoving it inside of her.
He fucks her relentlessly. She rises up on the ball mount of her foot and tightens her grip around his waist with her leg. He kisses her fervidly, his tongue pushing against hers before biting and sucking her neck.
She tilts her pelvis forward so his body makes contact with her clit. His eyes meet hers and they smile at each other before kissing again. She grabs his hair as he takes her hips pushing her back and forth against his dick so hard that she’s afraid she’s going to lose her footing.
He picks her up and places her down on the table, situating her by putting her legs on his chest so her heels perch on top of his shoulders. He grips her thighs and she reaches for her clit. She’s so close and so ready to let go that she feels this won’t take long.
“Come for me.” he tells her and she pushes on her clit a little harder, grinning her response.
He slows down giving her better access to herself. Her body tightens against his cock as he does so. She licks her fingers and then places them on her clit again, rubbing back and forth, the sensation of coming building until she feels the bursting of her orgasm shooting through her, a plethora of giggles escaping her as her body contracts and pulses against him and her fingers. Orgasms tend to make her laugh. It has confused some of her previous partners. They’ve asked what’s funny, as if they did something. She usually tried to hide it, cover it up, chew on her cheek to keep it from happening, but eventually gave up trying to fix it. It’s just her response and that’s all. Jared is one of the few people she’s been with who didn’t find it odd or question it when it eventually happened.
He thrusts faster again once she’s relaxed, her eyes glazed and content. He wraps her legs around his waist and leans forward as she hooks her ankles together. He moves deliberately at first, pushing and pulling his entire length in and out of her, then picks up his pace fucking her harder, the slapping noises of his body slamming against hers getting louder.
She reaches back for the edge of the table for better leverage and seconds later she feels the warm expulsion of his ejaculation release inside of her.
This always makes her want to come again, or to come with him which they managed once. Something about feeling him come inside of her gets her so turned on again that she wishes she could come on command.
He eases out of her, and she reaches for his hands. He takes them and helps her up. She feels him spilling out of her and sits still for a moment, her legs dangling off the table, a girlish grin dancing across her face.
He pushes her hair off her face and kisses her forehead.
“Thank you.” he whispers against her skin.
“Oh thank you.” she replies, kissing the space between his collar bones before looking up at him.
He laughs, “You have lipstick all over your face.”
“So do you!” she rakes her fingers through her hair, pushing it off her face and kisses him again. “Let’s do it again! I'd like a little more stress relief.”