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Sarah's Down Under
by Stevie Burns |
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When I got to work in the morning, I
had been prepared for the usually dull eight hours of work, always
peppered with spicy bits of email from Sarah. She lives across the
ocean, an artist who traveled with her wealthy Aunt to Australia
earlier this year for the Olympics and decided to stay. We had
been more than friends before she left, but once she moved and
started emailing me, our relationship grew into something very
sexual and profound. Like an addict, I was constantly checking for
emails from her, and then responding immediately. When my inbox
was empty, I’d feel like the floor fell through. And when I did
get email, I’d grin wide like an idiot.
I sat at my desk with a latte in my hand and checked my email. I
grinned.
Her email was short, but the impact it had on me was immeasurable:
“I’m here. Meet me at the Bongo Bar ASAP.”
I played sick, told my supervisor I was going to see the doctor
and would be gone for the day, and headed for the Bongo Bar, about
a five-minute walk from my office. Sarah sat at the bar in a
simple blue dress with spaghetti straps, looking amazing. Her long
brown hair was swept up into a loose knot at the nape of her neck,
and she was reading a book.
Only Sarah would be bold enough to sit at a bar reading a book and
drinking a latte – from another café. She was only there to wait
for me.
I walked over to her, and her eyes shifted. She smiled, and looked
up.
“Hi.” That was all she said, and she kissed me with sweet soft
lips that tasted like an addiction. I felt a severe tremble inside
as I suppressed an urge and a long awaited need. I had to keep
myself from lifting her body off the floor and carrying her away.
I felt primitive, virile.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said. I was somewhat shocked to
hear my own voice, low and soft and verging on violence.
Her eyes were soft, dark and liquid, and she let her hands fall to
my buttocks. I gulped hard and she smiled, “I have a room for us,
it’s a short walk from here if you can come with me.”
“Come with you? That’s all I think about. I’m sick for the day and
all yours, Sarah.” I picked up her bag, and we left. She left the
book and the latte behind.
The walk from Bongo to The Six Plus Motel seemed like a lifetime.
I couldn’t keep my hand off her ass. It wiggled a little under her
dress, with her swishy gait. Her breasts heaved with the brisk
cool autumn air and her nipples were hard. My slacks fit somewhat
loose, but not loose enough. I pulled her bag in front of my body
and adjusted myself. It was painful and fantastic.
We got into the elevator and that’s when I could no longer hold
back. The movement up was like a rush. I dropped the damned bag
and stuck my hand up her dress. Her panties were moist and warm,
and she groaned as I gently pulled them aside to explore her. She
fell back against the wall and raised her leg, wrapping it around
my waist. Then PING! The elevator shuttered and the doors began to
open. We jolted into the most respectable positions possible, and
tried to act as though we hadn’t been doing anything
extraordinary.
A businessman was waiting to go down. He didn’t join us, choosing
to wait for the elevator’s return trip. I think he suspected. I
didn’t care.
I softly caressed her back and her beautiful ass as she bent down
to pick up her bag. Her chest and cheeks were flushed. So
beautiful. Her hair was beginning to fall around her shoulders,
tickling exposed shoulder blades. When she lifted herself again,
she put her hand on my cheek and shoved her tongue in my mouth.
The doors opened. I had not felt the elevator stop. Things began
to feel a little surreal.
There was no one in the hall. I picked her up by the ass and her
legs wrapped around me.
“Which room?” It was guttural. She whispered, “Five-sixteen.”
I ran down the hall, and Sarah was biting the base of my neck, her
thighs pressing hard against my hips. I could feel her heels
against my ass, jiggling as I bounded through the hall like an
animal. When we got to the door, the logistics of getting the
damned keycard out were driving me insane. We kissed, bit, groped,
all intermittently while she frantically searched the bag.
Finally, she found it, got the card into the slot, and then a red
light came on. The door did not open. She tried again. Red light.
Again. Red light.
“It’s not working!” She handed me the card and I looked at it.
This was the right room. I tried the door. Red light. Fuck!
Sarah stood against the door, her skin soft and warm, looking up
at me. It was a yearning, a sorrow, a tension and passion I’d
never seen in anyone before. I couldn’t believe what I was about
to do.
I looked down the hall, to a sign indicating a passage for soda
and an ice machine. She didn’t say a word, just took my hand and
ran towards it. Some vending halls at motels actually have doors.
This one didn’t. But it didn’t matter at that point.
Sarah pulled me to her, raising her leg and propping it on the
wall. The space available to us was about that of a closet, no
more than three feet wide and maybe four feet deep.
I grabbed her ass and her thigh, kissing her hard. Sarah’s hands
fell to my belt and unfastened it. She unzipped my pants and
pulled them down so that they’d fall to my ankles. She put her
hand down my pants and stroked my fully erect cock, and pressed my
boxers lower so that I was exposed.
“Grab my ass and hold me up,” she whispered.
I did. Amazingly, she pulled herself up and over me, pulling her
panties to the side and coming down over my dick. I held her ass
firm, and her other foot came up against the wall behind me. She
wrapped her arms around my neck, and as I felt her take all of me
inside of her, she gasped. Her eyes widened, and she bit my lip.
Hard.
I bolted forward, crashing into the wall; slowly, fervently
pumping into this amazing woman. Her hands tangled through my
hair, her legs pulled around my body tight and her pussy gushed.
She suppressed a scream by sucking my chest, just above the
nipple, and came. I nearly did myself, but she stopped me, saying
she needed to get down. I didn’t want to, but pulled-out. If she
said stop, then that’s what I would do. I ached.
And then! She got on her knees and put me in her mouth. I couldn’t
believe it. I balanced myself with a hand on the wall, and with
the other touched her head. I wanted to grab her by the hair but
didn’t. I wanted her to decide how to give it to me. And she did.
I came in her mouth. She never backed off, never hesitated. She
took me all the way and waited until I lost control. I pulled her
up off the floor and kissed her. She tasted like me, and I wanted
her more.
“You’d better pull your pants up. Just in case.” She whispered. I
knew she was right. We somewhat rearranged ourselves and I was
dressed again. I kissed her. It was gentle and romantic and when
she lightly licked my lips, I could hear blood rushing in my ears.
I went to the ice machine, and punched the button for a few cubes.
I put one in my mouth and came back to her. We kissed, exchanging
the cube back and forth until it was just water dribbling down our
chins and throats. I grabbed another cube, moistened it in my
mouth, and then holding it exposed, dragged my open lips across
her chest, then down her chest. I pulled her dress down over her
shoulders; I pulled her bra down over her breasts, and found first
her right nipple, then her left. She was hot and wet and the ice
melted fast. When the cube was gone, I continued to suckle her
breasts, all the while reaching up her skirt, holding her hips and
thighs. Her beautiful round ass. Her cunt. I got another
cube.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
“Of course I do.”
I put the cube in my mouth, and pulled her bra and dress back up:
all a little damp. Then I knelt down and slowly pulled off her
panties, allowing my fanned fingers to feel every inch of her, all
the way down to her ankles. She stepped out of her white cotton
panties, and I shoved them into my pants pocket.
Then I felt for her clit with my finger. It was erect. She was
like silk, and I pressed my fingers against her. Sarah closed her
eyes and her breath quickened.
I took the ice cube out of my mouth and placed it lightly against
her mound, throbbing and wet. Her fist pounded the wall hard, and
I shoved the cube up inside of her. She gasped, collapsed to the
floor, and kissed me. Her arms flailed around me and held tight,
her pelvis rocking towards me. I held her with my left arm, and
rooted my right arm between her legs as if my fist were
permanently attached to the floor. She wrapped herself around my
arm and pounded, rubbed hard and fast and frantic. I stuck my
tongue in her mouth and her back arched, her pussy draining melted
ice and cum all up and down my arm. She slowly lowered to the
floor and sat against the wall, breathing hard against my mouth.
I heard something down the hall and recognized it might be
footsteps accompanied by squeaking wheels. Someone’s luggage,
perhaps. I pulled Sarah’s dress back down to cover her and she
brought her legs together, crossing them at the ankles.
A woman’s voice said, “Oh my god, is everything all right?”
I swiveled around, still kneeling by Sarah, and saw a woman in her
forties with a nametag. She was dragging a suitcase on wheels and
appeared to be an airline hostess.
“It’s fine, thanks. She just had a dizzy spell.” I lied. The woman
seemed doubtful.
“You okay, honey? Do you need a doctor?”
Sarah replied, somewhat weakly, “No, really. I’ll be fine. I’m
feeling better now.” And she started to pull herself up, carefully
keeping her thighs clamped, using my arms as support.
The woman with a nametag and squeaky wheel left us, going down the
hall and squeaking to the left. Who knows if the woman had been
keen to what really happened. It didn’t matter. I pulled Sarah
close to me, holding her at the base of her lovely back, and
kissed her. It was warm. I gently stroked her cheek, pulling her
hair back from her neck, and kissed her softly. I cupped her
breast and kissed her shoulder, her neck, her jaw, her chin, and
her mouth. Her eyes were closed.
We decided to go down to the lobby and complain that the keycard
was not working. It was time to get a room. For whatever reason,
illogical as it was, I grabbed the keycard and tried it on the
door one last time, before heading downstairs. Maybe it’s just
human nature. Green light.
We never left that room until late the next evening… save for a
few trips to the ice machine. |
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