DB, this story always was, and always will be, yours. - VLD
"Soon," was all he said. "I'll see you soon." Then he hung up the phone.
God, she had come to hate that word. Soon. And she wondered just when exactly "soon" would be. Would she have to wait another hour, or three, or six? He hadn't said.
She strolled over to the window of her hotel room and peered outside, looking down at the city street below. She looked down at the people scurrying along the sidewalk, hailing taxicabs, grabbing a hasty cup of coffee from the corner street vendor. They all looked the same from her vantage point stories above, small and non-descript, and she wondered if she would be able to distinguish him as he approached. Would he meld into the sea of nameless faceless people rushing about, or would he stand out to her somehow? She smiled to herself and thought that he would, that even among the throngs of people passing by far below her, she would know it was him.
Stepping away from the window, the curtain fell back into place, blocking the late afternoon light and cloaking the room in semi-darkness. She glanced around the room, taking in every detail, this room where "soon" would end, where their longing and desire for each other would finally be consumated. Her fingers trailed across the mahogany armoire that encased a television, she closed her eyes for a brief moment and memorized the grain of the wood, breathing in a faint scent of lemon polish as she did.
She then grasped the arms of the upholstered chair in the corner, and as she looked upon the muted paisley print fabric, she could imagine him plunging inside her from behind. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair tighter, her knuckles turning white, as she thought of herself bent over this very chair, her ass thrust high, ready for his beautiful cock. Loosening her grip on the chair, she exhaled with a wistful sigh, and felt a trickle of moisture escape from between her thighs.
A sofa, covered in a soft green and accented by loose pillows that matched the paisley chair, was on the other side of the room. She looked at it, not moving from her place in front of the chair. And all at once she could see him so clearly, as if he were already there in the room, lounging naked upon the soft green fabric, his thick hard cock in his hand, slowly stroking it as his eyes looked into hers from across the room. She could see the precum glistening as it leaked from his opening, and without thinking she licked her lips in delicious anticipation of tasting him. And she thought, for a moment, she could hear him say, "Suck me, beautiful."
The clock on the bedside table illuminated the passing of time, and not even half an hour had gone by since she had last heard that word again. Her senses were heightened, and she was acutely aware of the dull ache, the incessant throbbing that eminated from deep within her, as she sat upon the bed. She had carried it with her for months now. Long, seemingly endless months, in which she had tried in vain to ease it, but her own touch was just a temporary balm. She smoothed the linen sheet on the bed. It was soft and soothing to her fingertips, as the dull ache built within her and became sharper. She wished he would hurry as she clenched her legs together, almost rocking upon the bed, because only his touch could assuage it.
Soon, as always, seemed to take forever to arrive, and the patience she had held onto were evaporating now that soon was almost here. The room was almost completely shrouded in darkness, now that the late afternoon had given way to evening twilight. Flipping on a lamp, the room was bathed in a soft warm glow, brightening the muted colors around her. She entered the bathroom and stared into the mirror, seeing herself as he would soon see her. Flushed with excitement. Glowing with sensual promise.
Piece by piece, she slowly removed her clothes, her jeans followed her shirt to the cold tile floor, until she stood there in just a shimmery silk and lace bra. The golden taupe contrasted against her tanned skin. She lowered the straps off her shoulders, and soon the bra lay atop the pile of clothes on the floor. Her hands came up the front of her body, caressing the warm skin he would soon touch. She couldn't wait any longer to feel his hands, his mouth, all over her. To touch every inch of her.
The sound of running water was deafening as she lowered her body into the steaming scented water, but it was one of her favorite sounds. Her head rested against the rim of the tub, as the hot liquid enveloped her. She thought she might quiet the ache, the throbbing within her, as she languished in the bath. But the cascading ripples that washed over her body awakened her rather than relaxed her, and of their own volition, her fingers rose from the water to grasp her nipples, twisting and pinching them hard, bringing her close to the edge. She scooted herself to the end of the tub where the water still ran in torrents from the faucet.
It was sweet torture, allowing the water to pound against the place where she throbbed, only to withhold herself from it the moment she threatened to shatter. Over and over she did this, until sweet torture became sweet agony, and she feared she might lose control and bring herself over. She had abstained from it for weeks, saving the hunger so she could unleash her voracious appetite upon him. With her limbs shaking with restraint, she sat there as the water drained away, then stood inside the tub and thought soon couldn't be much longer now, as she dried off with a fluffy white towel.
She was startled when she finally heard it, a knock upon her hotel room door. Oh God, soon was finally here! She threw on a short cream-colored silk robe and hurriedly tied the sash at the waist as she moved towards the door. With trembling fingers she turned the knob, and opened it. And there he was, wearing that smile she knew and loved, his brilliant eyes boring into her own, looking even better in the flesh than she could have ever imagined.
He reached for her through the open doorway, and as he stepped past the portal, in that electrified magical moment of their meeting, when she felt his first embrace, she remembered to release that breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. And then she took another breath, inhaling the scent of him, nuzzled in his neck. His skin felt so good against her face, and she might have been content to stay there like that, until he took her face in his hands and kissed her.
And that's when she knew her imagination had been sorely lacking, because it had not prepared her for the jolt she felt down into her very core when his lips touched hers, for the wave that hit her when their tongues met and mated. She came right then, into his mouth, just from his first kiss. Yet he never stopped kissing her as he backed her onto the bed, their hands clutching and groping each other, everywhere they could reach.