"That cake was amazing."
My boyfriend, Shawn, smiled at me and took my hand as we waited for the elevator of our hotel. We'd just gotten back from a bar a few blocks away, where we'd closed out the night after our one-year anniversary dinner. Both of us had our own apartments but we decided to book a hotel room for the night so we could spend the evening downtown and not have to worry about driving or getting a cab home.
"What do you think those little crumbly things were?" I asked. "Crushed up Oreos?"
"Maybe," Shawn said casually. "There weren't any on my slice."
I frowned. "Really? I thought we got the same kind of cake."
There was a ding, and the elevator doors opened. It was empty.
"Guess you just got lucky." Shawn pulled me through the doors. He hit the button for the 14th floor and turned to face me.
"How're you feeling?" he asked, putting his hands on my waist and gently pushing me toward the corner of the elevator.
"Mmm, good," I said, smiling what I was sure was a goofy smile. I did feel good. Drunker than I'd planned on getting—I'd stumbled on the way back from the bar a few times—but good.
Shawn chuckled and kissed my neck. His hands wandered over my body. I was surprised; he'd never been that into PDA and there was a camera in plain sight staring down at us.
I moaned softly as his hands traveled to my breasts. It was the dead of summer and I'd opted for a fairly skimpy dress; my nipples instantly became hard as his thumbs brushed over them through the thin material. I felt myself getting wet.
Just as Shawn began sliding one hand up my thigh my knees buckled. He laughed, tightening his grip on me so I wouldn't hit the floor.
"You," he said as he scooped me up in his arms, "are in no condition to walk."
The elevator doors opened and what felt like moments later I was laying on the bed of our hotel room, which felt like it was spinning.
"Those mojitos must have been stronger than I thought," I said with a giggle.
"Well, I did ask the bartender to make yours doubles," Shawn said, standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me as he took off his jacket. "But I don't think it was just the mojitos."
I giggled again stupidly. "What do you mean?"
Shawn laid down and propped himself up next to me. "Remember about three months ago, you told me about that little fantasy of yours?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.
I blinked at him and tried to think.
"This room doesn't have a balcony, does it?"
Shawn smiled. "I'll give you a hint. Those little crumbly things on your cake weren't Oreos. While you were in the bathroom at dinner I broke up part of a chocolate edible onto your cake. Between that and the mojitos you're not gonna be able to do much but take my cock for the next couple hours."
Just like that I remembered. We'd been at home in bed and he'd asked me if I had any unfulfilled fantasies. I told him for years I'd often daydreamed about being drugged and used like a sex doll, unable to move but fully aware of what was happening as someone ravished me. He hadn't mentioned it again, and, worried he might have been put off by it, I hadn't either.
"Just say our safe word if you want me to stop," Shawn said. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip and kissed me. "But I don't think you'll want me to."
I tried to lift my arms and move my legs; it was technically possible but it felt like I was moving through thick molasses. A brief moment of alarm was quickly replaced by pleasure as Shawn's fingers trailed down my neck, over my breasts, and to my thighs. He hiked up my dress to my waist, lifted me to a sitting position, and pulled it up over my head, leaving me in just my bra and panties.
He rested me back down and I stared blearily up at the ceiling, turning my head slightly to watch him undress himself.
I'd met Shawn at a mutual friend's housewarming party, and we started dating shortly after. Even a year later my friends still commented on how not my type he was. Up until then I'd seemed to gravitate toward more serious, compact, muscular guys; in truth, though, they'd been the ones to chase me and I just sort of figured, "Why not?"
Shawn, meanwhile, was funny and sweet and kind of goofy. Meeting him was the first time since college I'd felt the urge to pursue someone rather than just wait to be pursued. The fact that the goofball attitude was replaced with a no-nonsense-take-charge one when we were fucking didn't hurt.
He definitely wasn't fooling around tonight. It was smart of him to wait a few months after I told him about my fantasy to fulfill it. I'd completely forgotten we even talked about it and never would have expected him to just dose me out of nowhere.
Once he'd stripped down to his boxer briefs he joined me on the bed again. He picked up my arm by the wrist and held it in the air for a moment before letting it drop back down.
