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A short story - Part 1
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A short story - Part 1 IF YOU LIKE--Please send my an email. I'd like the feedback. NOTE: I'm not a professional writer...just a suffering man with a lot of passion locked inside of me. This are my original words--not to be reproduced or used without my permission. Thank you. Chapter 1The Heat It was August in Mississippi and the temperature was a balmy 95 degrees. The sky was a light blue haze with heat mirages radiating off all surfaces on the ground. The humidity level was greater than 90% the heat index was 100+. The result was instant sweat for any person brave enough to be outside--regardless of what activities you were doing. Jan Miller was 42 years old and married. She was attractive in a simple way. Meaning, she did not put extra effort in her dress or makeup, yet, she possessed a natural beauty one could see if they took a moment to see her face—especially her brown eyes. Her face was soft and tanned to perfection and her hair matched her eye color perfectly. On this day, she wore no makeup—it was one of many “instructions” she had followed. She dressed casually wearing cut-off “Daisy Duke” shorts and a white t-shirt printed the word “PINK” in blue letters. She pulled the extra-long t-shirt up at her waste and tied it into a ball on her right side keeping it above her waste. She wore a white Mississippi State baseball cap that snapped in the back. Her hair protruded through the snap of the hat in a pony tail that reached half way down her back. Her casual ensemble was complete with a pair of $9.99 flip-flops from the dollar store. The Mississippi heat hit her as she exited the hotel office. She was clearly distraught and dejected. Her face shown her frustration and anger. Added to that, the heat was making her sweat. This was the third hotel that denied her a room because it was too early to check in—it was 12:10PM and most had posted signs stating: “CHECK IN AFTER 1PM.” She returned to her car and started the engine, and more importantly, the air conditioner. As she sat there, both hands on the steering wheel, with the A/C blasting in her face, the reality of the situation hit her. She began asking herself "What am I doing?" "What if this guy is not who he seems?" Suddenly, her phone vibrated signaling she had a new text message. Startled, she reached for the phone and fumbled twice to get her security code in correctly. Once, unlocked, she saw it was a text from him: "I CAN'T WAIT TO TASTE YOU.” At this, she just melted back into the fantasy and all her doubts subsided. She mumbled out loud: "I'm going to find a fucking hotel if it kills me!" Now, with renewed vigor, she put the car in gear and continued her search. The next motel she came to was a bit shady looking from the outside. It was an "L-Shaped" building with the "L" rotated 90-degrees clockwise to face the frontage road. The motel parking lot was located to the right of the office and the entire facility ran parallel with frontage road. She said, "screw it" and pulled into the office parking lot. She sighed as she put the car in park and refused to turn the ignition off due to the heat. She took a moment to calm herself and then opened the door. The heat was tremendous and the parking lot pavement was sizzling. Luckily the walk to the office door was a short one and she opened the door and went in quickly. The office was a small room with four chairs and a coffee pot. The smell was of hours old coffee and recent cigarette smoke. Directly ahead was a small kiosk with a young Asian lady sitting behind it. Jan approached directly and asked: "Do you have a room available now? Nonsmoking." The clerk looked down as to check the map of rooms then returned and said, "Yes, it will be $45." Her immediate thought was: “Hal-lah-fuck-ing-lu-ya,” in her distinct Southern accent. Relief settled on her and she thought, "I can still do this," as she pulled out three twenty dollar bills and paid the lady. She filled out the registration form under a false name and address, per her instructions, and gave the form to the clerk. In return, she was provided a key and instructions on where the room was located. She picked up the key and left the office in almost one fluid motion with purpose in her movement. She returned to her car and grabbed the steering wheel once more. "We're too far in to turn back now," she said out loud to her reflection in the mirror. She put the car in drive and eased forward to the parking lot where only three cars were parked. "No wonder they have rooms," she thought to herself. With a clear and renewed sense of purpose, she turned the car off and got out. She closed her door and opened the rear door retrieving the overnight bag from the rear seat. The bag was filled with items she was “instructed” to bring. She slung the bag over her shoulder and headed for the stairs. Luckily the motel was small with 12 rooms on the top and 12 rooms on the bottom. The clerk had said the room was "on the second floor ... third room down." She confirmed this from her vantage point in the parking lot as room 23 was clearly visible. She headed to the stairs and up to the room. "This is it," she said as she inserted the card into the slot. The light turned to green and the mechanical lock released. At this, she pulled the handle down and went inside and closed the door quickly behind her. The smell of cigarette smoke and cleaning chemicals immediately overwhelmed her and air was stale and warm. “This is nice,” she said in a sarcastic tone. "So much for the nonsmoking room. The air conditioner had been left off, so she immediately looked at the window unit air conditioner and tried to figure out its operation. The unit had a button to turn it on, which she pressed, and a nob to control the temperature. She selected the “Max Cold” setting and was rewarded with instant cold air. “At least the air works” she thought. The room was the average hotel size. The carpet was old and stained from years of use, but it was clean of debris. Two queen beds were separated by a nightstand and situated on the left side of the room. A clock and lamp were sitting on top of the nightstand along with a sign stating: “NO SMOKING.” “That's fitting,” she said under her breath. The beds had a green patterned bedspread with two pillows on each. A small TV was in the corner and a four-drawer cabinet for clothes was located on the opposite wall from the beds. Straight ahead was a large mirror above a sink. To the left was an open door to the bathroom. The bathroom was normal sized and clean. Towels and wash cloths hung on the rack above the toilet and the floor was a cream colored tile. She turned and faced the mirror in the bathroom and breathed in heavily. He was specific in "demands" on what she would do at the room. Now, however, reality was here. It was happening. Her emotions went from nervousness and anxiety. She also felt a hint of regret forming in her stomach. "Can I do this?" "What if he doesn't like me or find me attractive?" All this pressure made her feel smothered. She withdrew from the mirror and laid back on the bed. Half on the bed and half off as her feet were on the floor and her upper body was flat on the bed. She lookup up at the ceiling and wondered how this had gotten to this point. Two Weeks Ago “Married white lady, age 42, looking to meet a nice man. Marriage is lacking attention and attraction. Looking for spice but only white men need apply.” She reread the description and contemplated submitting it, as she had done so many times before. Her marriage, now on the 15th year, was lacking passion, romance, and intimacy. Months would go by before the slightest hint of physical contact with her husband Steve. Susan, her life-long friend, suggested she try placing an add on the married personals website because Susan claimed she had done so herself. That was six months ago, and it had taken that long for her to get the courage up to do so. “Now, do I put a photo on here?” She asked. Then, decided against it. “Ok, here it goes,” she said as she clicked “Submit.” She had taken all precautions to hide this action from Steve. She had set up a private Gmail email account and even went as far as buying her own iPad that she only knew how to operate. Fortunately, Steve was not graced with any computer skills. So, the threat of him snooping into her emails was highly unlikely. Nevertheless, she took precautions. It took five years to get to this point. The marriage was failing, but she stayed together for the their . Two girls, 15 and 18 years old. She could not dream of breaking up the family simply because she needed physical attention. She had even tried talking to Steve about her needs, but he just seemed uninterested. She had thought he must have someone else on the side, but if so, he was very good at hiding it. At her breaking point, she went out drinking with Susan. As they were talking, Susan told her about the affair she had and how easy it was to find someone. “All you have to do is put a profile on this website. The guys will not stop emailing you.” Jan replied, “It can't be that simple.” At that point, Susan pulled out her smart phone and opened the website, then turning the phone around so Jan could see it. She had six unanswered emails in her inbox. “That's only from the past four hours,” she said. “I get about twenty a day and let me tell you...some of the men send photos,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “They send photos of their dicks,” she whispered, almost embarrassed to mention the word. “I delete those,” she said. “That's gross!” Jan said in response. “Well, I liked it at first,” Susan said with a slight smile, “but, some of them need to keep their little pee-pee in their pants.” At this, they both laughed hard and loud. Clearly, the gin and tonics were kicking in. “Well, I’ll think about it,” Jan said and that was the end of that subject. Now, six months later, Jan really had been thinking about it. In fact, she had been looking at the website often, just to see what type of men were on there. The site was supposed to be just for married men and women who wanted to have an affair, but she found many single men on there also. These younger ones often sought a “cougar.” Jan had to look up the definition of a “cougar” to understand what the meaning was. “I don't think I'm the cougar type,” she had thought to herself. Her sexual experience was limited. She had been a “good girl” in high school, waiting until college to give her virginity away to a man she thought she would marry. Now, at 42, she had only been with two men. The guy from college and Steve. Neither man could satisfy her in bed. This left her on her own for pleasure and she was very good at doing so. Her vibrator collection was maintained in three shoe boxes and she joked with Susan, “I'm one vibrator away from having all I need.” Even a shy girl as herself, now could shop online and make purchases anonymously without fear of embarrassment. Steve didn't care if he didn't have to “do her.” So, she was a member of the “Vibrator of the month” club at an online site which meant she gets a shiny new toy once a month. She would masturbate daily and more often now that she was over 40. She had told Susan, “it's like the older I get, the more I want it.” “I can't seem to get fully satisfied, even after multiple orgasms with my toys,” she had said in a confused tone. Susan had responded, “honey, you and I are two different people. I could care less.” It was this unquenchable desire that drove Jan to take this next step. The “action” step to put in motion her desires. It was clearly thought out and planned and she knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted to be pleasured. She longed for a man who could lay her down and just take over. That was her fantasy—to have an experienced man please her. And, that physical desire and fantasy drove her. “Your profile has been created” This was displayed on the screen of her iPad. Immediately, she received a pop up message stating she had a new email. “Here we go,” she thought to herself, but the email was only a “Welcome” email. “Now, we wait,” she said to herself. Instructions She continued to stare at the ceiling, deep in thought of the moment she found herself in. She had been faithful 15 years, and now she was at the point of a<b> steamy </font></b>affair. “What would the girls think if they found out,” was weighing heavy on her. “What would Steve do?” she thought. “Would he treat this like he does the vibrators—relieved that he did not have to have sex with me?” As she lay there, one hand on her stomach, and her right hand twirling her hair around her fingers, her phone buzzed again. And, again, the same startled response was received. She again, fumbled with the unlock code and again it was a text from him. “ARE YOU IN THE ROOM YET?” She immediately replied: “YES.” She waited for his reply: “HAVE YOU COMPLETED YOUR INSTRUCTIONS?” She typed back: “NO, I HAD TO RELAX FIRST. I WILL DO THEM NOW.” Again, she waited his reply: “OK, TEXT ME WHEN YOU ARE READY—BUT HURRY—I NEED TO TASTE YOU.” At this, she again, was pulled back into the fantasy world. She sat up on the bed and stretched her arms over her head. “It's go-time,” she thought to herself. She stood and walked over to the overnight bag and picked it up and walked to the sink to sit it down. Now, she stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself. “I am still hot,” she said and began to undress. She slipped off her flip flops and took off the hat and let her hair fall down her back. Now she reached down and untied her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, neatly folding it and sitting it on the sink. She dropped her bra straps quickly and turned the bra around to put the clasp in the front and then unhooked it, exposing her breast. She unsnapped her “daisy dukes” and let them hit the floor and then she pulled off her panties. She quickly picked up the shorts and panties and folded them and put them on top of the t-shirt on the counter. At this point, she stopped again to admire her body. “Not bad after two and 42 years,” she said to herself. Not a tan line existed on her toned body. Her breast sagged some, but still had great form with both nipples still pointed outward and not downward. Her stomach was not a six-pack, but it was far from the obese-level of other ladies in Mississippi. She turned and looked over her shoulder at her back and ass. There were three spots of white on her body: at the top of her ass crack, and under both ass cheeks. Spots she could not tan because of the way her body laid in the tanning bed. Other than that, her body was perfect by her standards. She had showered once already today which included a routine of shaving her pubic hair and legs. Her “woman” was smooth, as were her legs. She also had a routine of washing her “woman” both inside and out with a shower douche bottle. She believed in cleanliness and she loved her moisturizing creams for her skin. But, today was different. Today she had instructions to follow. She had memorized all of them and she was happy to comply. The instructions went as follows: “1: Strip naked and remove all jewelry. Then take a shower and wash off all perfumes, lotions, and makeup.” “2: Shave your legs, underarms, and your pussy smooth.” “3: Dry yourself off and wrap yourself with a towel where the towel opens from your back” “4: Crack the room door open” “5: Pull comforter off bed and lay down on your stomach” “6: Text me and tell me you're ready and give me the hotel name and room number” “7: Most important—Now, as you await my arrival—start rubbing your clitoris through the towel and you lie on the bed. Allow this to free you mind of nervousness and anxiety. Allow yourself to go to another place—a pleasure place.” She had done all these and just completed sending the text. Now her body was inflamed with desire and she was starting to feel her labia swell. “I hope this will be as good as I think it will be,” she thought as she closed her eyes and waited. Minutes went by and it seemed like hours to her. She was there, alone in the dark and foreign hotel room--naked only but for the towel. Her ears strained to hear every sound. Maids were cleaning rooms and cars drove by, but no footsteps approached. She drifted in and out of pleasurable fantasies and her “woman” was getting more and more wet by the minute. She waited. Impatiently waiting and filled with nervous energy and excitement. Her mind bounced between the pleasure felt between her legs and the danger of having the door cracked open. The vulnerability and allure added to her excitement and pleasure. Still she waited and finally she heard someone at the door. He came in and immediately she looked over: “It is me, relax and let me have you,” he said, and again, she was gone to the fantasy world. Nerves gone; rational thought gone; all that remained was a hunger that only one man could quench, and he had just entered the room. |
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