Daniel and Alyssa

Though I was stark naked, he woke me with kisses to my forehead and cheeks, and as I returned to consciousness, my involuntary grin subsided. I immediately looked over to the table but saw no ring. I could've been delirious, but I didn't want to believe I hadn't seen it. "Daniel, where's the ring?"

"What ring, babe?"

"The ring. The ring that was on the table. Your ring..." I sat up.

"Alyssa," he sighed.

"I KNEW IT! You're married, aren't you?"

"We've been separated for a couple of months now, and I hardly ever wear that thing."

"I can't believe you did this! What am I saying? I just met you. I can't believe I did this!" I was somewhere between confused and furious when I leapt from the bed to fetch my robe.

"Alyssa, calm down! We're getting a divorce, and I liked you from the moment I met you. Just sit down for a minute, and we can-"

"Get out!" I ordered. "This was a mistake. I never should've let you come here. It was my mistake. Just go." I was pacing, feverish with fury and frustration. As soon as he was dressed and gone, I bolted the lock on the door and slid to the floor in tears. How in the world did this happen? I'm never this careless with guys. Had it really been so long since my last romantic interaction with a guy that my guard had completely dissipated? Breakfast had long since gotten cold, but I snagged a strip of bacon and nibbled on it while checking my messages and telling myself that this encounter had all been a fluke.

The rest of the week was a blur. I reprimanded so many workers, I was beginning to confuse the people who'd pissed me off with the people who hadn't. I buried myself in phone calls and emails and barely ate, but the memory of that morning with Daniel kept finding me in my sleep. I'd pass out half dressed across my made hotel bed having only managed to remove my shoes and shorts while crossing the room. I woke, night after night, with a fierce grip on my pillows, an aching moan on my lips, and yet another soaked pair of underwear. The dreams were either re-enactments of the morning with him or visions of Daniel somehow walking into my room and slipping his fingers into my pussy while I slept. I felt like I was going insane.

By the following Monday evening, I was a frazzled mess. I just needed to swing by the house to drop off more supplies from the hardware store and lock up. I set everything down in the hallway and started on a quick walk-through. I stopped in the living room and pulled out my flask before dropping my purse to the floor. After about half my supply of vodka had been consumed, I almost didn't hear him come in the creaking back door. It was Daniel, only partly illuminated in the glow from the light in the living room that was spilling down the hallway.

"Hi, Alyssa..." He was holding my footstool. "I picked up your footstool today. They called and said they finished the repair early." I felt as though I should've had a smart remark at the ready or even an eye roll, considering the mood I was in, but the vodka had numbed everything that didn't feel like exhaustion. "Where would you like me to sit it?"

"Anywhere's fine."

"Are you okay?" Daniel asked, setting the piece down in the corner of the living room closest to him. His eyes never left me, and he crossed in front of me tentatively with his palms held out as though I might teeter over. "Alyssa, you should head to your room and rest."

Hearing him mention my hotel room suddenly yanked me from the haze and into the clear and present moment. "I don't need to rest. What I need is for everyone to do what I ask - what I'm paying for! Nothing more, and nothing less. I don't need people treating me like I'm such an uptight bitch!" The stress of working on the house was getting to me, and I had managed to throw Daniel in with the rest for his working on me.

"I'm sorry," he said, as he caught the fingers of my left hand in those of his right. I had been tapping a furious cadence against the steel flask for so long that the tone had changed to match the growing hollow inside. "Clearly, you've had a hard week, and I'm sorry if you felt I insulted you or made you feel as though I'd taken advantage of you." My eyes were glazed, and tears were beginning to perch on my lower lids. "I apologize for not telling you I'm not exactly single, but I rarely talk to my wife. I keep the ring in my pocket for when I run into her family. We're trying to be discreet while we work out a timeline for divorce." I peered at him in skepticism over the tears I refused to let fall. "I saw you, and the more I talked to you, the more I wanted to get to know you. I didn't think things would've gone that far that quickly, but once I kissed you, I could tell you needed it. I don't think I've ever seen a woman enjoy herself quite like you did that day."

A reminiscent smile appeared on his face, and suddenly, I was shifting in embarrassment. I turned to grab my purse and go, but he grabbed my elbow and pulled me into him. "Tell me that you didn't need it. Tell me I didn't see what I know I saw," he dared.

"Daniel, please-" But he'd already begun drawing my dark curls from my face and neck to kiss me. My breathing was heavy, audible. From behind me, his left hand found its way across my collar to my right shoulder. His right grasped at my right breast and pressed against my ribs, waist and stomach before reaching between my skin and the waist of my jeans which had become a bit loose in the previous week of meal-skipping. His fingers found my clit swollen, and my already floating perception gave way to what felt like delirium. I let my head fall against his shoulder and leaned against his chest as he rubbed slowly and deliberately.

It was when he wriggled his way down to the hole he'd made slippery that I nearly toppled over. His grip on my shoulder tightened and pressed my back into his chest and my ass into the hardening swell in his pants. He slipped his fingers up and down between my pussy lips massaging me to weakness, and when I was moaning so loudly my voice filled the house and I couldn't bare to stand any longer, he pulled his hand from my jeans and quickly undressed me. His hands knew the way and fumbled nowhere, but made quick work of the buttons on my shirt, the zipper on my jeans, and the clasps on my bra. He'd placed my hands on his shoulders to steady me as he slid my jeans over my ass and ran his tongue down and back up the line between the lips of my swollen pussy through the thin cotton of my blue striped bikini panty. His breath was hot through the fabric, and my head spun from the sensation. He nibbled his way down my thighs as he slid them down and had me step out of the pile of clothing on the floor.

He stood a little too quickly for me to keep my balance, and his large hands caught me as easily as mine would a small child. He turned me toward the wall, and just when my nipples met the cool of the wall, he slipped a finger into me. Again, my head fell back against his shoulder while he spread my wetness and slipped his finger in and out of the warmth of my pussy.

I could feel the building of a lovely orgasm when he very quickly transitioned and began rubbing the head of his dick against my slick hole. "Alyssa, I know you need this, and I hate seeing you so stressed." He was pressing his way in. "So, for as long as you want-" the depth of his voice felt like it was seeping into my ear and resonating straight down to my belly, "I'm going to make you cum every time I see you. I just want you to relax, babe..."

He finally found his way in, and it was no less painful than before. My lips had already parted to make way for the panting and the moans, but now my brow instantly furrowed as if to take the brunt of the pain. On tiptoe I went out of instinct. He was a little too tall for me, and a tear was bound to develop if I didn't get higher. I felt like I was climbing the wall. Daniel's fingers dug into my left hip, tilting my ass up toward him and deepening the arch in my back. He reached around to rub my clit with his right hand, and as he rhythmically rocked into me (seemingly as slowly as possible), I came. I came hard, and I was suddenly overcome by my appetite for more.

"Good girl," he cooed and squeezed my right nipple between the fingers he'd happily coated in my fluids. "You want to cum again?" I couldn't manage to get anything out but moans. He was still stroking, and I was biting the shit out of my lip trying desperately not to sound like a complete whore. "Baby, if you want to cum again, you're going to have to tell me. Now, say what you want, and I'll give it to you." I was aching with need. I couldn't shake the sensation of the first orgasm, but I was too busy struggling for a second to answer. I had begun trying to push against him, but it felt like he was deliberately thwarting my attempts to get him to fuck me faster or harder. Then, it dawned on me that he was slowing down.

Panic spread, and it burst from my mouth before I could think about how it would sound: "I need you to make me cum! Pleeease, make me cum!" I was pleading. He'd done it - made me ask for it like a slut. At least whores got paid to ask for sex, but I may as well have been his slave, getting paid in pleasure.

"There you go." He spread his left palm and gripping tighter to virtually make a handhold of my hip. I cried out and shut my eyes but had to open them almost immediately when the dizziness reminded me that I was too tipsy to keep them shut, and when he drove the length of his dick into me, I realized he'd been kind to work me over so well with his fingers and to take his time with me. The vodka was helping, but clearly he'd been considerate for my first orgasm and last week, too, for that matter. I could feel the variation in thickness and was overwhelmingly thankful that he hadn't just shoved his dick in to the hilt.

"Alyssa... Alyssa... Calm down," came his soothing lull. Suddenly, I could hear myself near hyperventilation, panting and wincing and whimpering as I shook. "Don't tense up. Just relax, and I promise I'll make it feel better."

He stuck to small strokes, never giving me enough room to be relieved and started rubbing my lower back with his right hand, although his left was still clasped like a vice around my hip. Kisses met my neck and shoulder, and my whimpering finally tapered off. Then, I gave him what he had been listening for, "Mmmm, yessss..." It trailed off in a hiss that apparently turned us both on because he quickened his pace a bit and smacked my ass.

By this time, I was out of my mind with vodka-tinted lust, and I begged him shamelessly to keep fucking me. He pumped my pussy so masterfully, and soon he was demanding that I cum for him. I did as I was told, and he praised me. "You're such a sweet girl! My baby came on my dick! I bet you feel better." I had no answer. Hell, I barely had a voice - I'd been screaming so loudly, and he was still stroking my pussy, reaching around to rub my clit and squeeze my thigh. And he was in my ear as he instructed, "Look down, babe. You're leaking on the floor..."

My sex-drunk eyes met the floor and widened in unexpected shame at the sight of the droplets sprinkled across the floor beneath us. Then, I felt his balls start to slap my pussy lips sending a shower of warm cum to the newly laid hardwood. "Mm..Mm..Mm.." Came the sound of my muffled pleasure through my raw lip, nearly numb from the biting. My mouth fell open when he slapped my ass and grabbed a fistful of my curls, and when his pulling me back up exposed my nipples just enough to brush the wall, I sang out his name in desperation, "Daniel!"

"Yes, baby? Tell me. Tell me what you're going to do on my dick, baby..." Why did he sound so calm?

"I'm gonna fucking cum!"

"Go ahead and cum for me, then. I'll cum with you."

I couldn't keep myself from writhing. I was practically beating a hole into the wall with my fist, thinking of his voice and what must have been a proud and handsome expression. It wasn't until I had already started cumming that I realized he hadn't pulled out. I was too constrained to protest and too consumed by my climax to care. My large breasts tapping together, my nipples lightly brushing the cool wall, my chin pointing, my back arching, and the walls of my pussy convulsing as it sucked loudly at his wonderful cum-covered dick, were all part of a wildly indulgent fantasy I was surely bound to wake from soon, but he fucked me for several minutes through his orgasm and brought me to another before pulling out, his dick still stiff. When my knees gave out, he caught me and sat me sideways between his legs on the floor, my legs draped over one of his knees. Our mingling pleasure was seeping out of me and making it's way down my ass to the floor.

"Feel good, babe?" Daniel whispered to me. He was kissing my forehead and pulling my knees apart.

"Thank you," I nodded beneath his chin.

"My pleasure." He tucked my head into his neck, leaned against the wall, and held me until we both drifted off.