For Katie, life was dull. Six months ago she'd spend a week in Fiji, found out her partner was cheating, and started an orgy in a swimming pool. She'd had sex with seven men in one night, and had never felt so complete, but since then, her life had been dull.
After the holiday, she'd gone home, planning to work things out with her partner Peter. She actually had, as far as you could after an affair. She still didn't trust him, and she still didn't want him, and that distrust made no sense to her. In Fiji, she'd had sex with seven men she didn't know, and hadn't cared where they'd been or who they'd been with, but the idea of Peter inside Julie, of them kissing or touching each other, that made her feel sick. She'd blown four strangers in a row, had four strangers semen in her mouth, but thinking of Peter in Julie's mouth filled her with so much rage she trembled and shook and then wanted to cry.
What she'd done should have made everything all right, but it hadn't. It had just made the rest of her life empty compared to that one night. She'd worked things out with Peter. They were still together, and friends again, but there was nothing else. No passion, and no sex. She'd told him what she'd done, and he'd listened, and then he didn't want to touch her any more. Like she, rather than him, was dirty. She hadn't got laid in months, not since the orgy, and she didn't really care. Beside that night, beside all those men and all those cocks, the idea of normal sex was nothing. It almost bored her.
She thought she was happy. She thought she'd made up with Peter and life was calm and now she had what she wanted.
Then Mark, a guy she'd slept with in Fiji, a guy who'd been a friend and been there for the orgy, suddenly called her, and she realized she wasn't happy at all.
*
Katie was in court when her phone rang. The case had finished. She was the second chair, had been standing politely while the lead talked to the client. She excused herself and answered, and heard, "Katie it's me."
For a long moment she had no idea who it was, none at all. She was a tax lawyer, she didn't have stoned clients who called worried about their cases while high.
"Sorry," she said. "I'm not sure..."
"Katie, it's Mark. From Fiji."
"Oh," Katie said, and went quiet. She was wet. She was standing in a courtroom with one of her firm's partners arms length away, and she was suddenly wet.
"Are you there?" Mark said.
"Hold on," she said, starting to walk. "I'm in court. I'm just leaving."
"Are you in some kind of trouble."
Katie didn't quite understand, then, "I'm a lawyer. I never said that, did I?"
"You?" Mark seemed to decide not to say anything else.
"Yeah. Hold on, let me get outside."
Katie went down the corridor a little. She stood near a window, holding her briefcase. Courthouses were actually fairly dangerous places, since they were full of criminals. Bags and phones were stolen fairly often.
She stood where she was for a moment and watched her life, the everyday normal life she thought she had, walk past. She listened to Mark breathing and thought about him, and how different those few days had been.
She had no idea what to say to him, or even what he wanted. In the end, she just said, "What's up?"
"I'm in town. Could I see you?"
"I haven't talked to you," Katie said. "Not since Fiji."
"I know. I thought I should leave you alone."
"You never contacted me."
"I know. I'm sorry. I thought..." After a moment. "You never called me."
"Yeah," Katie said. "I didn't."
I didn't know if we..."
A silence.
"Maybe this is a bad idea," Katie said.
"It's not," Mark said. "Please, Katie. Come and see me."
She stood there for a moment, and tried to decide. She wanted him. She was horny, was breathless, and hadn't been like that in months.
Of course she was going to see him. She didn't know why she was pretending. She was going to see him, and fuck him and she didn't even care that this time it was actually cheating. Not like last time, when she'd just been paying Peter back.
"Where are you?" she said.
Mark told her, a hotel, a room number. Katie went back inside and told her lead she had a client having hysterics. She rung the office and said she had meetings all afternoon, and would be away from her desk, and then she went and saw Mark.
*
Mark opened the door. Katie pushed her way in, past him, and kissed him. She kissed him, her mouth open against his, and started tugging at her clothes. She hadn't planned it, didn't even realized she was going to before she saw him, then suddenly she was grinding herself against him, moaning into his mouth, trying to get undressed.
The hotel room door was still slowly swinging closed.
Mark was still, seemed startled, then he kissed her back. Kissed her, and pushed her so she crashed into the wall with a thud, and started grinding his leg between hers until she couldn't think.
Katie was in a suit. It wasn't easy to get off. Mark yanked her shirt out her pants, and unbuttoned it, and tugged her bra down off her tits. He kept kissing her.
Katie tried to help, but got all tangled in her jacket. It wouldn't come off her arms, and her arms wouldn't bend, and she was suddenly trapped inside it. She yanked at her trousers, but only got them halfway down to her knees before she realized she hadn't undone the fly all the way and they were stuck too. Mark had his hand between her legs and his tongue in her mouth and Katie was moaning, desperately, "I can't wait, fuck me. Just fuck me."
He was trying, but he couldn't get her trousers down either, and she couldn't free her arms, and she was shaking with how much she suddenly wanted him, which made dealing with the zipper harder. She wanted to scream. She felt like she was about to start crying with frustration, at him not being inside her.
She tried to kick one leg free of her trousers, to pull it off past her shoe, but she lost her balance and fell over instead. She toppled sideways and fell and landed with a thump that actually hurt. Mark fell with her, unbalanced enough she knocked him down, and then they were tangled on the floor, legs around each other, and Katie's arms were still trapped, so all she could do was push herself against him and kiss and beg, "Fuck me, just fuck me, please."
He turned her over, in the end. Flipped her over, and grabbed her hips and yanked, hard so she came up off the floor. Her face was on the carpet, her shoulders and knees too, but he lifted her ass up enough he could reach between her legs. He started fumbling around with his own trousers, and she could feel his hands shaking too, close against her skin, and she was still saying, "Please fuck me."
He got himself out, and pushed onto her, and missed. Two false jabs that slid past, and then he was in, hard and deep and far inside her, so she opened her mouth, and gasped, and tasted carpet, and turned her face so she was lying on her cheek, and ached with half of herself for him even as he raced in and filled her. She was so wet he just slid up inside her, and so ready she shivered with how unspeakably good he felt.
Katie was still mumbling, "Please," and Mark was trying to fuck her, to get up and balanced so he could, and she was lurching back against him so urgently she actually knocked him over, but it was enough. Anything inside her was enough.
She lay on a dirty carpet in a forgettable hotel and was fucked like she never had been before. He held her hip, and was tugging her arm, trying to get it free, she thought, and trying to reach her face to kiss her, and she was gasping, urgently, "Don't come, don't come," and knew he was going to. She just knew.
He lasted ten thrusts, maybe twelve. He groaned, and went limp on her back, and twitched deep inside her, and she realized he didn't have a condom, hadn't had a chance to get a condom, and she could feel him hot and sticky inside her, filling her, and she didn't care.
"Get me there," she said. "Oh please, fucking get me there."
He kept going. His cock was hard inside her still, but the rest of him was limp, slumped on her like he might faint, but he kept going.
She came, and came so hard she felt like she was bending double, broken at the waist, was turned inside out from her tummy. It shivered out through her, and she couldn't think or breathe, and she just lay there, shaking, inside and out.
"Thank you," she said.
Mark had fallen onto her back when he came. He'd ended up with his mouth near her face.
"Fuck I missed you," he said. "You have no fucking idea."
"I do," she said. "I really do."
"I've been empty," he said. "Since I last saw you."
"I know," she said. "Me too."
He kissed her shoulder, through her shirt, stroked her hip and then her ass, and then he suddenly yanked her up again, so fast her knees hurt, like carpet burn, and was pushing himself at her again. He pushed into her again, filled her again, and she wanted to sob he felt so good.
"Help me get untangled," she said after a while, but he wasn't listening. She lay with her cheek on the carpet and her arms trapped behind her back, and he fucked her like he'd die without it. She felt it too. People walked past in the hall and she didn't care if they heard her moaning. Mark was hurting her, twisting her wrists too hard, and she didn't care about that either. She came again, and breathed in carpet, and didn't realize until she'd finished she was lying there with her mouth open tasting something odd.
Mark kept going for a minute, but little more. She flopped down on her front and panted for air. Their legs were tangled in their clothes, and her arms were still jammed between their bodies, and she could still taste carpet dust, a little unpleasant on her tongue.
"Can we get on the bed?" she said, after a while.
He rolled off her, and lay beside her, and kept breathing hard. She managed to sit up.
She looked over, grinning, and saw his cock. It was still hard, shiny with her. She looked at it, then crawled over and put her mouth onto it.
She'd lived for that cock, and all those like it, in Fiji.
She sucked the taste of herself off him, and the salt of him out of him, and did it without her hands for the first little while, while she yanked them free. She was dripping on her suit pants. She kicked them off, finally, got her arms free of her jacket, while she sucked on him. She left her shirt on, didn't have time for it.
She turned around and she sat on Mark's cock, and it felt so good she almost fainted. It took her four minutes to come that time, and then Mark lifted her off, said, "Wait, you'll kill us," and slid back across the floor.
She sat on the floor, leaning on the bed, and she realized she could reach the minibar fridge from where she was. She leaned over and opened it, got two bottles of water, and rolled one over to Mark.
She drank, and spilled some, and wondered what had just happened to her.
Mark was looking at her. "Shit," he said. "You are a lawyer."
Katie grinned. She'd dropped her briefcase at the door, had all her cards in that, so she didn't bother offering him one. She sat there, panting, looked over at Mark.
"You never fucking phoned me, you shit," she said. "You never emailed."
"I didn't know if I should."
"You should. You really fucking should."
"You might have been trying to sort things out with the guy."
"Yeah," Katie said. "Not so much."
