Reconnecting

It had been a rough few months, and at the end of them, I felt like I was no good for anyone. My job had fallen apart, and with it, my sobriety. Inside a bottle was the place I always felt safest and so when things started crashing down, I crawled inside one and stayed there. I wasn't an alcoholic, at least that's what I told myself, and if past experience were any indication, as soon as I was ready, I'd be able to climb back to my feet just fine.

But in that time, it was bad. I had a... well, I don't know what we were. We used to fuck a lot and we tried to be friends. Did that make her a lover? A girlfriend even? I don't know. What I do know is that when things started falling apart, I just kind of drifted away. I'd ignore her messages for a few days, and then put her off when I did respond. Evening would come around and I'd think, "I could call her... I should call her." And then I'd pour myself a drink and sit by myself for a few hours until I passed out.

Eventually she gave up trying to reach me. I looked up and a few months had passed since we last spoke. I told myself it was better that way. Better for her. Just move on, I'm a mess anyway. And we weren't anything particular; nothing formal. Just some fun while there was fun to be had. I told myself this until I believed it.

Self-justification is a bitch.

The thing about depression and despair, whether bottle induced or not, is that these kinds of bouts -- the kind that have you hide out in your attic office space by yourself for a few months -- these kinds of bouts don't last forever. You emerge from them and look around and try to survey the damage you just caused. You ask what can be fixed, and you ask what's broken beyond repair. And mostly we're talking about relationships.

I looked at my phone and saw her name in my contact list, but I didn't call her. "She's moved on," I thought, "No sense in ripping the scab off a healing wound."

Calling her would have been selfish. At least, that's what I thought. I really did miss her. I missed the way her hair smelled, the way she tasted when I kissed her. I missed the awkward way she got shy just as she was getting turned on. Her coy little laugh when I called her out and that way she'd say, "Well... you know..." and then trail off because, yes, I did know.

Thinking of her, I was becoming aroused, but I put my phone away. "It's over. I blew it because I was stupid and selfish and mean." Just move on.

I took a new job, which helped me move along. It felt like I was leaving a burning wreckage behind me, but it was for the best. I moved to the other side of the country, threw myself into my work and just tried to keep my head down.

Of course, working meant writing and attending conferences, since I was an academic. She was too, but in a different field, at a different university. Very different circles. So I was surprised one night as I was in a hotel bar in Minneapolis to see her sitting at a table enjoying a cocktail with a friend.

My initial reaction was to just finish my drink and get back to my room before she saw me. So I slammed the rest of my bourbon and water, payed my tab, and slipped out to the elevator.

The elevators were deserted, so I fell into one (a bit dramatically I must admit), pressed the button, and waited for the doors to close. Just as they did a slender female hand slipped in to stop it, and when they reopened, there she was staring daggers into me.

"You son of a bitch," she said as she stepped inside face to face with me. I was still backed against the wall. "You think you can just disappear?"

I was speechless. I said exactly what you'd expect someone to say when they're wrong and cornered and about to face retribution.

"I'm sorry."

It was barely a whisper, but I held her eyes with mine. Her doe brown eyes were fierce, but they softened just a bit.

"I saw you lost your position," she reached out and touched my shoulder. "I would have understood if you needed time alone. You didn't have to disappear."

"I..." the hesitation brought about by a swirl of shame and desire, "I was a mess. I just have to hide sometimes. You were better off without me."

"Don't you think I should have a say in that?" She backed away and leaned against the closed elevator doors, her hands behind her back, her head tilted slightly, a stray lock of her hair fell across her face, but eyes still locked into mine. "It doesn't matter. You never owed me anything."

I stayed silent; the conflicted feelings I had for her coming through my face, my lips pursed.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked almost shyly, her chin down but her eyes still peering up at me.

"Honestly?" I asked.

"Honestly," she nodded.

"I'm thinking about pinning you against the wall and fucking you right here, in this elevator."

"Oh," her breath caught. She placed her palms flat against the cold steel behind her, and tried to flatten herself even more against the door. "So why don't you?"

Just then the elevator doors opened and an older couple got on with us. She steeped toward me and stood next to me, back against the wall, her shoulder brushing against my arm. The fragrance of her hair threatened to overwhelm me.

We said nothing more, but stood awkwardly on an interminable elevator ride. And when the doors opened for my floor. I stepped out, but she hesitated. I placed one hand on the door frame, holding the door, and the other I extended to her.

"Are you coming?"

She looked at me hard, searching my face for some sign of my feelings or intentions that would break the deadlock in her mind, the age old fight between reason and desire. Whether she saw what she needed, or was just overwhelmed in much the same way I was, she took my hand, and allowed me to lead her to my room.

When I closed the door, I turned to her and closed the gap between us. I held her face in my hands and kissed her softly. She responded in kind at first, but shook her head, pulled away and leaned against the closed door.

The expression on her face was troubled and she looked down and away from me, toward the corner of the floor.

"What is it?" I asked. "What's wrong."

With an expression of overwhelming hunger she turned her head to me, eyes wide, and said in little more than a whisper, "Do it right."

I reached out and took hold of her by her neck, simultaneously pinning her against the door and forcing her face up toward mine.

"Like this?"

"Yes," she was breathless as I held her in place, just a slight threatening pressure on her neck.

"And like this?" I kicked her legs apart with my foot and forced my hand under her dress and cupped her sex in my hand, my palm grinding into her through her panties.

"Oh God..." she whimpered, "Yes..." and then louder as I ground especially hard against her clit, "Yes!"

I was holding her so hard against the door at both her neck and cunt that it barely mattered if her legs touched the floor. She worked her hips against my hand and moaned like a bitch in heat.

She closed her eyes as she focused on the sensation of my hand. But I wasn't having it.

My hand squeezed her throat enough that breathing became difficult.

"Keep your eyes open, slut." Her eyes shot open and begged into mine for easier air as they watered.

I lessened my grip just a bit as I pushed her panties to the side and slid two fingers into her wet little slit.

"I want you to know who it is that makes you feel this way."

She nodded as she moaned.

"I want you to know who brings out the dirty little slut in you."

She whimpered again, staring up at me as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. "It's you..." she breathed, "I'm a slut for you, your dirty little whore to use when you want."

I closed the distance between us and kissed her hard, invading her mouth with my tongue as I hastened the speed of my hand against her cunt.

She pulled back as best she could, pinned against the wall as she was, "May I please cum, sir?" She whined... "Please...?"

I smiled self satisfactorily at how easy it was to have her fall back into being submissive for me.

Such willingness to submit should be rewarded. "Yes, you may..."

I felt her push down especially hard against my hand and she let out a single sustained high pitch wail as release overtook her. Her entire body quivered and shook and her hands clutched at my back until finally she went slack against the wall, to a point where she was almost resting in my hand.

I released her neck and slid my wetted hand from between her legs, and I kissed her as she panted to catch her breath.

"More?" I asked, confident in the answer.

She nodded, eyes that had closed again looked back at me. "yes... more."

I took hold of the back of her head, a fistful of her flowing hair in my and pulled her mouth to mine for a long, slow kiss. When I went to break the kiss, she refused, leaning into me, so I forcefully pulled her back from my mouth by her hair.

She looked at me through slitted, expectant eyes, mouth hanging open and panting.

"You know what's coming," I told her almost coldly and she smiled drunkenly, but not from any alcohol.

Keeping her hair in my hand, I pushed her down to her knees and she dropped willingly. She looked up at me. Despite all that we had done, those big brown eyes always conveyed a sense of innocence, and it drove me crazy with a desire to defile her in every way I could think of. She loved it. Such was our relationship.

She reached out and began to undo my belt, but I pulled her hair tight and slapped her lightly with my free hand. Her own hands retreated as her cheek turned red.

"Fuck," she gasped, "I'm sorry."

"What do you need to do?" I condescended.

"May I please take your cock out of your pants?"

Holding her there, her eyes turned up toward mine as she knelt before me, lips slightly parted, hands now held behind her back. The very model of cute, and submissive, and sexy. I thought I'd make her wait.

"Why?"

"Because I want it..." she hesitated, "in my mouth."

"Did you miss sucking my cock?" I mocked.

"Oh god, yes..."

"Couldn't my poor little slut find someone to use her mouth when I went away?"

She let out a whimper and then whispered, "There's no one like you, sir."

Indeed, and there was no one I'd ever met like her. So that when I gave her permission she damn near ripped my pants apart to fish out my swelling, but not quite hard, cock. And when I pulled her mouth down on me, I held her in place and allowed myself to swell to full size against her tongue and lips.

Her eyes stayed locked on mine, even as the engorged head pushed and pressed against the back of her throat. I felt her try to pull back, but I held her in place, gripping her hair tightly in my fists. She moaned and the vibrations ran through my cock, causing it to swell more.

Her eyes began to tear as she struggled to maintain herself, with involuntary spasms trying to pull her mouth off of me, resulting in tugs to her hair. I looked down at her, mascara beginning to run down her cheeks, and simply shook my head, "No." There'd be no relief. Not yet, not until I said so.

Her hands wrapped around me, palms flat and shaking as she struggled to maintain. She gagged a bit, and began to pull more fiercely against my grip. Her eyes fluttered. And I smiled.

I let her slide back onto her heels, gasping for breath. In a moment she swallowed my cock again, eager for more. And this time I was going to give it to her.

Wrapping her hair in my hand I began to slide my hips back and forth, filling her mouth and invading her throat with each thrust. She moaned and whined as saliva and my precum began to run down her chin. Combined with the messed makeup she was already wrecked, and she looked gorgeous.

I pulled her mouth off of my swollen cock and left her whimpering and slack jawed. I wasn't done with her yet, but much more of that and I'd cum.

I dragged her to her feet and kissed her hard before spinning her around, back to me, and pushing her forward to the bed so that she landed on all fours. She raised her ass up and looked back at me over her shoulder, mussed hair falling across her face, hungry with lust.

I pushed her skirt up and kneeled behind her, my cock in hand, running the head against her slit. She whimpered, "Please... please fuck me..."

I pushed hard into her and felt her tight flesh give way. She cried out, "Yes... take me...." And I began a slow and steady rhythm into her.

"Nooo," she whined, "You bastard... do it right... hard... fuck me hard. Make me yours."

She was mine, already, and I began to use her body with abandon. Looking down at her, my hands on the swell of her hips as I slammed into her from behind, her head down, forehead pressed into the bed as she moaned and babbled incoherently.

She was mine, but I was hers too. Wrapped up in a desire to consume her, to drive so impossibly hard into her so as to consume her.

I fell forward, still moving my hips, cock buried inside her, but now the length of my body pressed against her back. My face fell into her fragrant hair and my lips at her ear.

"Take it," I growled, "take it like a little whore."

She grunted her reply as I pressed in slow hard strokes into her lithe little body.

"Fuck... you..." she almost spat, her body beginning to tremble from pleasure.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head up so I could see side long into her eyes.

"What did you just say?" I scolded between slow powerful thrusts.

"Fuck... you...." She taunted, "I'm not your whore."

I quickened my pace and felt myself swell inside her. I wrapped my free arm underneath her and began rubbing her clit as I thrust.

"Maybe so..." I agreed, "But you're going to cum for me like a whore."

She let out a long slow whine as my double ministrations took their desired effect.

"like my whore..."

I felt her body shudder as her cunt clenched and spasmed along the length of my cock.

"Now..." I ordered. "Do as your told and cum... now!"

Her second orgasm rolled through her, slow and tremendous, she let out a silent scream as I gripped her hair harder turned her head toward mine and kissed her just as my own orgasm overtook me and I emptied myself into her.

She moaned into the hollow of my mouth and whispered with a smile, "I hate you. What you can do to me." But then kissed me deeply, my cock still buried inside of her.

I rolled off of her, and we laid next to each other for some time in silence.

"I've missed you," I said.

"I've missed you, too," she replied.

"So what now?"