o4phuxake's blog: "Untitled - please suggest a fitting title"

EVIGILATO - Part One

The sound of tires rolling over the textured interstate combined with the pitch of the engine at a constant RPM for over three hours was almost hypnotic. It was dusk at the end of a scorching southern summer day and it was beginning to slowly transition from hot to just plain muggy and miserable, as the humidity was just settling into the Tennessee Valley area. Damian shifted his weight in the vinyl driver's seat and reached back to peel his sweaty shirt away from the small of his back and then wiped the sweat from his brow with an old Burger King napkin leftover from lunch, just hours earlier.

"Only another 12 miles to Exit 82a." thought Damian.

The destination of the afternoon was the Blue Swan Motor Lodge - a low-end motel normally frequented by long-haul truckers, just off of the interstate. The reason for the three hour road trip was to finally make good on all of the flirtatious promises he and Hannah had made to one another.

As he pulled up into a parking space at the motel, Damian noticed that his palms were sweating like a teenage boy in his first intimate situation. He was nervous. Nervous like he was when he slept with his wife for the first time, over 20 years ago. Just the thought of finally being anywhere with Hannah away from work drove him nuts. Even though he was a company executive that was old enough to be her father, he was simply giddy to know that his assistant, a recent college graduate, was going to be all his for the night.

Damian had thought long and hard since they agreed to meet about how he'd make her feel at ease, how he'd have to take charge of the situation in the heat of the moment and all that he could teach the inexperienced and sometimes clumsy girl whom he recently hired to keep his professional life in perfect order. In his mind, he knew he'd have to set the mood, let her know that she was safe and also endure the uneasy giggling that would stem from a strange situation with a new person that was 20 years her elder and also her boss. As with anything he'd ever done, Damian used logic to lay out the sequence of events, what to say and how to treat the young girl, in order to get what they both said they wanted but never acted on, while talking and kissing after hours at work.

As he pulled the keys out of the ignition, Damian laid his head back against the headrest and took one final deep breath as if he was jumping off a cliff into frigid whitewater. Upon exhaling, he grabbed his overnight bag and cell phone, put on his suit coat and made his way into the lobby. As he entered the hotel, he checked his cell phone and located the text from his little project, which simply read "Room 211".

Damian stood patiently in his business suit after pressing the call button for the elevator. He was what some folks in Mississippi would call "a turd in a punchbowl"...simply out of place, a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. The motel clearly wasn't the type of place where a business man would stay while on business, since just a mile down the interstate was a selection of reasonably-priced, big name establishments. This wasn't business though...this was something else, so he did his best to shrug off the fact that his reason for being there was completely transparent to the three people in the lobby who leered at him until the elevator doors closed.

As the elevator ascended, he couldn't help but notice the smell of stale cigarettes that was present throughout the hotel. Finally the elevator door opened and he made his way down the hallway to locate room 211. Damian reached out with a trembling hand to knock on the door, but noticed that it was barely open, with hardly any light coming from inside the room.

"Hannah? It's Damian...are you here?" he asked, as he gently pushed the creaky door open.

There was no answer, so he let himself in and closed the door, as he looked around for signs of Hannah. He could make out a curvaceous female figure which had to be Hannah in the easy chair in the corner of the dark room.

"Hey, Hannah...why are you sitting in the dark in..." Damian asked.

"Shut up and get undressed, now." The figure directed in a stern voice.

"Yes ma'am!" Damian replied in a joking voice, mocking her.

The dark figure stood up and walked over into the ray of light shining through the gap in the smoke-stained drapes that covered the window. Starting at her feet, Damian could make out long black heels, black fishnet stockings, shiny black panties, a matching skin tight bustier and black horn-rimmed eyeglasses, a beautiful face framed by long flowing, wavy blonde hair that cascaded down her ample chest and square shoulders.

Damian sat on the bed taking his shoes and socks off, still thinking it was all a cute little joke. The figure moved directly in front of Damian as a drill instructor would do to a recruit. She seemed to tower over Damian in her jet black four inch stiletto heels. With her hands authoritatively placed on her hips and feet firmly planted shoulder distance apart, Mistress Hannah glared down at him in a way that told him that she was deadly serious. Damian's heart was now pounding in his sweaty chest as Hannah unexpectedly grabbed his collar with both hands and pulled tightly, as she moved just inches from his face.

"The rules are simple. I will tell you what to do, when to do it and you will obey me. If you'd like to enjoy yourself, you’ll do yourself a favor and do what you're told." stated Hannah in a stern southern accent.

"What's with the costume and theater act -" Damian tried to interject laughingly.

It was then that he felt Hannah's hand suddenly gripping his groin firmly, squeezing his sweaty balls through his loose slacks. He gasped and winced in pain as Hannah dug her nails in and looked him square in the eyes.

"Obviously you don't fucking understand plain English, now do you? I'll say it one more time and I’ll make it really simple to understand this time...you will shut the fuck up and do exactly as I say." demanded Hannah as she glared at him.

As Hannah let go of his balls, she commanded him to continue to get undressed. This wasn’t what Damian had planned for or envisioned at all. He was at a loss for words and still didn’t know if it was Hannah showing her goofy sense of humor or not. But, he wasn’t about to test her any further, especially after having his junk nearly crushed.

Hannah continued to tower over Damian as he finished getting undressed, while trying to avoid eye contact. His mind was racing with thoughts and questions, but he was now afraid to voice those thoughts or ask those questions.

“Look at me, Damian.” demanded Hannah.

Damian sat on the edge of the bed, looking deflated. Defeated. Confused. He looked up into Hannah’s eyes.

“You’re a powerful man, Damian. A decision maker. A shot caller. A man in a position of authority…at work.” said Hannah, as she reached into a bag and pulled out a small bundle of rope and began uncoiling it.

“Within the four walls at work, that may be the truth. I will respect you completely while there, but not here…here, this is my world. Here, you respect me.” continued Hannah.

“Stand up, turn around and give me your hands.” she said.

Damian stood up and turned around, cautiously giving his wrists to her. She bound his hands tightly behind his back and quickly shoved him back onto the bed.

“Sit up on the edge of the bed again.” Hannah demanded.

He struggled to regain his position on the bed, but finally made his way back up.

She grabbed a riding crop out of the bag and stepped forward between Damian’s slightly parted legs, as he sat on the edge of the bed. She could tell that he was uncomfortable. Completely out of his element. Although she didn’t make him aware of it, she could feel herself getting wet just thinking of the power she had over her boss…her increasingly submissive partner. She stood directly in front of him, looking down at his slightly slumped over body. With one hand, she reached down and ran her fingers through is thick blond hair, while gazing into his emerald green eyes. With the other, she gently ran the smooth leather riding crop back and forth along his naked thigh. She could feel him trembling, probably wondering what was next.

Hannah lifted her leg up, and rested her foot on the nightstand next to the cheap alarm clock and pulled Damian’s head into her raised thigh. As his lips made contact with her thigh, he could smell a hint of lavender, mixed with the scent of a woman. He started at her inner knee and planted small kisses up her leg, then back down again. He noticed her breathing change, as he slowly introduced his tongue to her fishnet covered leg. Hannah ran her fingers through his hair, digging her nails into his scalp and pulled him closer, starting to breathe deeper...more pronouncedly. She felt his wet tongue dancing on her inner thigh and moaned lightly, as she continued to run the crop back and forth along his thigh. She dug her nails into his scalp harder and pulled his head between her legs, against the smooth leather panties. Damian could smell her, and began to moan himself, becoming overwhelmed from being totally dominated by a woman half his age and size.

"I want that sweet tongue inside me now." Hannah directed, as she spread her legs a little wider and pulled her panties to the side for him.

Damian continued to nibble on her thigh, slowly making his way up, when Hannah struck his inner thigh with the riding crop. Damian was now being humbled...put in his place.

So, I've always liked writing. Call me a nerd, geek, whatever...for those that know me, you know that couldn't be farther from the truth. But the fact is, I've never had any issues with conveying my thoughts in written form. The thing is, I hardly have time to actually sit down and do it. Sure, I write thoughts down, jot down ideas and concepts, but hardly ever get to the point where I put something together. It's been a long time, so I am rusty...and for that I apologize. Today, I thought I might turn over a new leaf, pull some of the cobwebs out of my brain and share some of the thoughts from what's sometimes a twisted mind. My mind.

There's no title for this one and I know it's kind of scattered, short and a bit lacking in detail, but hey...it's all I could fit in as I ate lunch at my desk today. Maybe I'll revise it later. I hope you enjoy it, and if you can think of a fitting title, speak up.

UNTITLED

In my mind, I play with thoughts of you, like a kitten with a ball of yarn...swatting it from one end of my nasty mind to the other. As the ball of thoughts unravels, I grow fonder of you, longing for your fingertips to run through my hair, your eyes to pierce through me, your nails to dig into my back and your warm breath to mix with mine as our tongues dance together.

I frequently imagine your nude, freshly showered, undried and still wet body laying across your white satin sheets, as a late night summer breeze pours over your soft skin through your open window and swaying lace curtains. Your delicate hands are raised above your head as you lay on your back, basking in the moonlight that dimly lights the room through the open window. The summer moonlight casts just enough light for me to make out beads of water still on your curvaceous figure and I can see your chest rise and fall from where I'm seated comfortably across the room. I can discern your long, damp hair flowing over your shoulders onto the pillow and I can smell the freshly-applied lavender body lotion mixed with the scent of you.

In my mind, you know I like to watch. You know the inner voyeur in me and you take immense pleasure in having me watch and witness you pleasing yourself before you allow me to touch you or myself. It's the small bit of evil that's resident inside you, but it works for us. It's not the way we normally operate, as I'm almost always in control, but you relish these instances when you have the little bit of control you have over me...the ability to keep me in check...so much so, that the mere thought of me watching you and me not being able to do or say anything about it drives you wild.

There's just enough light to see that you've moved one of your slender hands down to your wet mouth and are dragging your fingertips across your moist lips, down your neck to the the center of your ample chest and your belly and back again. You're breathing is steady and unlabored, but very noticeable, as you drag your nails up and down your gorgeous, moist torso. I see your chest rise and fall as you describe the little things that you plan to do to yourself in great detail.

"You like watching me, baby?" you whisper inquisitively to me across the room, as your head lay on the pillow and your eyes are closed.

"Yes...very much so." I reply.

"I know you do, and I love when you watch me, baby. Now...what are the rules?" you ask, looking to make sure I'm in the same page.

"No speaking unless spoken to and no touching myself unless told to do so." I respond.

"Mmmm....you've been paying attention." you giggle, as you bite your lip and cup your breast with one hand, while the other grasps the headboard lightly. "A girl loves a man who listens."

"I'm imagining you laying here with me, your large hands lightly running over the top of my skin, from my neck to my belly as you kiss my lips...can you imagine that too?" you ask.

"I can, and I love the thought of that." I reply.

"Good boy...now turn some music on real low, sit back and keep your hands at your sides." you instruct me.

"OK, I will." I respond, as I get up and fumble clumsily with the stereo button in the dark.

With gentle music playing in the background, complemented by a warm summer breeze flowing through your screened windows, you place both of your hands on your cheeks and begin running them slowly down your face to your neck, where they part ways and start to make their way down the sides of your chest, brushing up against your breasts and eventually down to your belly. They meet again well below your belly button and make their way up the center of your torso together, caressing your skin the whole way. Your legs and hips start to show signs of movement, as your hands cup your tits and you start playing with your nipples...before long, I can clearly tell that your nipples are completely hard, as you continue to twist and tug on them, just the way you like it.

You tug firmly on both nipples and you respond with a faint gasp, as your exploring hands start to make their way from your beautiful chest down to your smooth belly, but stopping just short of your lower abdomen. Your legs are together, as you rub your lower abdomen, just below where your waist band for your panties would be. I can see that you're squeezing your thighs together rhythmically, applying pressure to your clit without actually touching yourself. You finally spread your legs slightly and your hands travel down to the insides of your legs, and you start to gently claw at the fleshy portion to your inner thigh, teasing us both. You drag your nails up and down your inner thighs, not actually touching yourself yet...only making yourself very wet. I can hear your breathing pattern completely change now, as you tickle the insides of your legs and I can hear you starting to moan very lightly.

"How's the view over there?" you ask, between deep breaths.

"Simply lovely, from what I can see." I tell you.

"Mmmm....I'm so fucking wet right now. I want to touch myself so badly. Would you like that?" you ask me, as if to tease me.

"You know I love watching...so I think you know what the answer is." I answer, as if to say "DUH!".

"That's not an answer. If you can't answer the fucking question, we are done and you can go." you firmly tell me.

"Sorry...I meant that I'd love that and I've been waiting all day for this." I correct myself.

"Good boy. Now, how are you holding up over there? A little excited are ya?" she again teases.

"Oh my god, I'm dying here. I'm as hard as a rock and want to touch myself" I reply before being shut down.

"Nope. Sit there, shut up and watch."

You lift your head up off the pillow and I can smell the scent of just washed hair as the breeze flows over to me. I can barely make out your facial features as you look at my silhouette across the room and whisper "I can feel myself dripping down my ass...does that turn you on?"

I reply by telling you "Yes...I want you to play for me...make yourself crazy while I watch."

With a little giggle, you settle back down onto the pillow, as you place both hands on your cheeks and slowly move them down your neck and then down to your tits, playing with your nipples along the way as you did before. I hear you moan again as you pinch your pink nipples with your nails, making them harder. You continue to move your soft hands down your sides to your hips, which are now moving around a great deal more. I see you raise your hips, reach under yourself and grab both sides of your round ass and squeeze hard, before moving both hands between your tanned thighs.

I watch intently, as you lay your head back, spread your legs wider and open yourself up for me. Although I can't make it out in great detail, I can hear that you are soaked, as one hand holds your pussy wide open while the other explores. I can only imagine the sight, smell and taste of you as you slide a finger inside, causing you to arch your back and let out a small whimper. You tell me that you are "so slippery and warm" and slide another finger inside, as your other hand expertly works on your hard clit.

By now, I'm literally lightheaded. I'm sitting there, hands at my sides and feeling my cock bulging, pressing against my jeans, wanting out like a caged dog with an intruder at the front gate.

You're now fingering yourself with zero concern for what I'm feeling...caught up in the heat of the moment...two fingers inside of yourself, trying to hit that special spot, as your hips start to buck. Your other hand is rubbing your pink clit and slapping it every few seconds...I can feel myself shudder slightly every time you slap yourself. I can see you're getting close,as you raise your gorgeous ass up off the bed and start to moan my name while fucking yourself harder and deeper with your fingers. I observe that your legs are starting to tremble, and your toes are starting to curl, as they grab the smooth sheets. You are writhing now, and the sounds of a dripping pussy being fucked by your slender fingers fill my ears.

I try to imagine how swollen you are at this point. How hard your clit must be. How wet, warm and tight you must be. In my mind, your wet pussy must be grasping at your eager fingers, clamping down on them, spasming.

You help to confirm my curious assumptions, when I hear a noticeable beginning to a pattern that can only lead to a powerful orgasm. Breathing is faster, more labored. Moaning is more pronounced. Those beautiful hips are now rhythmically moving in circles. Your body is starting to jolt, matched with gasps, followed by you holding your breath, only to gasp again a few seconds later. Only one hand is working on your clit now, and I can barely see that the other is clinching the headboard behind you, as if you're holding on for dear life. Finally, with plenty of warning, you let out a long, soft, uncontrolled scream, followed by complete shaking, as you remove your hands and completely close your legs...you lay on your side, completely content, pleased and physically spent.

I watch your breathing even out as the shadow of the tree outside your window dances across your limp body while I undress, slide into bed behind you and wrap my arms around you. Soon, I hear deep breathing and light snoring...you are asleep, still content and getting some much deserved rest while safe and secure in my arms.

And then I come back to reality, at my desk at work....wondering where you are, what you're doing and how to tell you that I have such intimate thoughts of you that drive me wild.