Trav's Thoughts

Welcome to another Manic Monday with Morgen. Today's theme is Graphic in honor of the lovely and talented Janna from The Jannaverse. Janna has launched her online graphic arts business, Jannagraphics. Janna designed the various Manic Monday banners, as well as the Manic Monday Minion button in my sidebar. She's extremely talented, so cruise by her new blog and see what other visual delights she has to offer.

And don't forget to visit MM HQ at It's A Blog Eat Blog World.

Warning: This post contains graphic adult content and is a departure from what you would normally expect to find here.

He was tall and handsome, with a presence that invaded the dimly lit lounge. He stood framed in the doorway while the eyes of men and women both were drawn to him. She successfully resisted turning, but only because she could see his approach reflected in the mirror above the bar.

She felt his eyes on her as the subject of the unfulfilling fantasies of her youth threaded his way through the crowded lounge toward her. He managed the path deftly, rolling smoothly between high pub tables, shifting his weight to avoid bumping elbows or upsetting trays as he navigated the bustling wait staff.

The last steps carried the smile that curled her toes. His sparkling eyes found hers in the mirror. His touch on her elbow was electric. She fought a shudder and turned slowly to him. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the stem of the wine glass as he leaned in close, his lips brushing her cheek as his hand dropped possessively to her hip.

Hitching up casually onto the stool next to her, he craned his neck around to catch the bartender’s eye. It wasn’t long before she had a fresh glass of cabernet and he sipped appreciatively at a vodka tonic. He smiled easily and often, raising and lowering his drink, charming her.

But then, he’d never had a problem being charming. Back in high school, that had drawn people to him. She had never been able to resist it, although back then she hadn’t existed in his world. She was part of the invisible crowd as a teenager, unknown and unknowable, awkward and deeply mired in the hormone driven vagaries of life as an unpopular adolescent.

High school had been four long, lonely years in her life. But with graduation had come the opportunity to bolt the home town and dissolve into college life on the other side of the country. Gradually she made changes, learned to understand and accept, and grew fully into herself.

She emerged confident and capable. But she never went home again. It wasn’t required. She had shed the awkward teenager and found new friends, new interests, and new adventures.

She had thought memories of those unassuming years were gone forever, until his path crossed hers at a business conference.

He was still charming. Of course he hadn’t recognized her. He couldn’t have, even had she bothered to mention that they had moved through the same school system from the ages of 5 through 18.

He was mind-numbingly handsome. He had always captivated her. She had spent many restless nights wondering what it would be like to be noticed by him. They would be at a party. He would walk up behind her and wrap his strong arms around her, nuzzling her neck and whispering in her ear that it was time they left. He would drive them to the lake and park in a secluded spot.

He would gaze at her from beneath those luscious eye lashes, the deep brown of his eyes dancing over her face. He would lean closer, his fingers caressing her jaw, his thumb on her chin. His lips would meet hers, softly at first, then more insistent and she would open to him, their tongues exploring. Her arms would reach and clutch his shoulders as their kisses became ever more intense. Her back would arch slightly as his mouth moved down her throat, his hands slipping inside her blouse to fondle her breasts through the lace fabric of her bra.

They would pause to wrench shirts over their heads, and she would yank the bra away to feel his mouth on her nipples, suckling and making them deliciously hard. She would curl her fingers into his hair, and feel his hands all over her body, the feather light touch moving down her back and over her hips, the fingers kneading her thighs, pressing them apart as his hand explored beneath her skirt.

Waking in sweat soaked sheets, breathing hard, not equipped in those days for the fantasy to go any further.

But now, as adults making small talk in a semi-crowded hotel corridor, she recognized that he was actively working her. The grin, the hand that reached for hers, the way his head tilted as he wondered whether she might meet him for a drink later. He wanted her. Just like in her fantasies.

That knowledge should have pleased her. Instead she found her mind drifting back to those painful school days. She spent the afternoon re-hashing old memories when she should have been focused on lectures and the latest business theories. She skipped the last meeting of the day to retreat to her hotel room, shower and shake the developing case of nervous tension.

He wanted more from her than a drink. She knew that. She was any other attractive woman he might notice. He knew nothing else about her.

But she knew. She remembered the way pretty teenage girls fawned over him, competed for him, lusted after him. He always seemed so aloof, knowing he could choose any of them and not really caring which one. He had never tied himself to one girl in high school. She noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding band now.

She remembered the longing she had felt whenever she saw him. And as she stood there dripping from the shower, she realized he could be hers for the night. A warm glow spread through her as the realization finally firmed in her mind. She smiled at her reflection. So much grief and depression suffered to get to this point, where her body no longer repulsed her.

Now, as her fingers caressed the stem of the wine glass, her green eyes captured his blue ones and conveyed years of longing. He responded by tipping the contents of his glass quickly down his throat. As he stood she felt the swelling of his need press urgently against her leg. She leaned into him, briefly enjoying the power she seemed to wield over him, and then casually slipped off the barstool to walk ahead of him out of the lounge.

Alone in the elevator he covered her mouth with his as her arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. Their lips parted to let hungry tongues explore. His hands moved down her back, gently crushing her against his hardness. She finally pulled away to catch her breath, and he steadied her. He offered another smile, this one full of lust and the promise of a night of passion.

The elevator doors opened and they walked quickly down the hall to his room. He fumbled the card key out of his wallet and got the door opened on the second try. She hid her smile; it was comforting to know he had moments when he wasn’t calm and collected. She felt completely feminine with this confirmation of the effect she had on him.

The room was dimly lit and smelled fresh, as though maid service had only just finished. He dropped the room key on the credenza and she set her handbag next to it. She felt his hand on her shoulder and turned into him. They kissed again, more gently this time. His mouth and tongue held her attention, so she barely noticed as he released the fastenings on her dress.

Her breath coming in short gasps, she let her hands roam across his broad chest as their tongues continued to dance. She felt the straps of her dress slip down over her shoulders, the fabric bunching at her waist. Deftly, she shifted her weight and the dress dropped to the floor.

He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling his arms out of it and tossing it aside. She took the opportunity to unfasten his belt and unzip his fly. She was anxious now, and determined. She locked her eyes on his as she carefully dropped to her knees. His pants hung loosely on his hips. She rested her hands on his legs, just above his knees, holding his gaze. Slowly she started to move her hands up the outside of his legs. She heard him moan.

She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his pants and lowered them slowly, breaking eye contact so she could savor the site of his exposed cock. The head glistened. She placed her hands firmly on his hips and ran the tip of her tongue over the head. She purred deep in her throat as the most exquisite of her fantasies came to life. He quietly moaned as she held his hips still and ever so slowly teased her tongue up and down his shaft, wrapping her lips around him, moving back to the head and taking as much as she could into her mouth.

She felt his knees wobble. She pulled her mouth from him, reaching her hand up to stroke him instead while he folded onto the bed. She was able then to pull his trousers from his ankles and get them out of the way. Standing, she slipped out of her bra and panties and stepped closer to him. She leaned her hands onto his shoulders, pushing him to his back on the bed so she could climb up and straddle his chest.

His hands caressed her sides and moved to her breasts, fingering her hard nipples. She held herself above him and encouraged him to move one of his hands between her legs. She was throbbing, needing his touch. She gasped as she felt his cold finger tease her clit. She spread her legs a little farther, and he obliged by gently massaging his way between her lips and then his fingers pushed inside her.

Her eyes closed and she moaned. He was in control now and he rolled her to her back, continuing to work his fingers between her legs. His head dropped to her breasts and he sucked at each nipple, kissing the cleft between her breasts and licking the soft skin beneath them.

She writhed beneath him, her fingers curled in his hair, gasping as his fingers and mouth continued to please her. Her hips rolled and she felt flush as the first orgasm engulfed her in warmth. She felt her muscles squeeze around his fingers, crying out for him. He removed his fingers, replacing them slowly with his cock, expertly moving inside her, each time plunging a little farther until his entire length pierced her. Her legs curled about his hips as he rode her, each orgasm building on the last.

He thrust harder and faster, and gradually they found a similar rhythm, meeting each other, taking and giving, until he exploded deep inside her, and they finally collapsed together in a tangle of arms and legs, breathing in gasps, giggling and whispering little endearments.

It was a night when all her fantasies were made real. They pleased each other until they fell into exhausted, satiated sleep.

She woke first and listened to him breathe. She felt warm, and complete. But she knew she needed to leave. She disentangled from him and eased out of the bed.

As she was slipping her dress over her shoulders, she realized he was watching her. She smiled at him as he sat up in the bed.

“Stay a little longer,” he suggested.

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

“I have an early flight.” She sat on the edge of the bed to put on her shoes and felt his hand on her back. She turned and kissed him lightly. “Thank you. Last night was everything I ever dreamed.”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

She stood. She would never be able to explain what made her say it. “This was my fantasy, my dream, when we were in high school together.”

Oh the confusion on his face. It did something to her. It gave her power. She felt giddy from it.

“You won’t remember me,” she said, feeling the sadistic pleasure of what she was about to say. “I used to be James McNeely.”

The End