Hello hello 🆒 I'm bringing you this story I made recently, hope you like it.
--- Cheap Bar ---
The clock on the bedside table marks 4:18. It's nighttime. It should be dark, except for those neon lights and that buzzing that I don't know where it came from. She is sleeping, peacefully, like those who sleep after a night of sex as it corresponds, without pauses, without hurry, without worries. She is naked, and still has a high pulse and agitated breathing. She searches for me with her arms on the bed, half-asleep. I am sitting on the bed, looking vaguely out the window like a couple trying to leave the Kama Sutra at the rhythm of I Feel Good by James Brown in the apartment next door. The smells and sweat of those languid bodies that I think haven't stopped all night reach me. A police siren sounds far away, muffled by the girl's screams from next door, with the music and knocks on the bed. And I keep looking at them vaguely as if it were something fascinating or funny. Maybe my voyeuristic side has taken over me in these moments. I don't know. I can't stop watching that decadent spectacle.
Her hand is felt on my shoulder.
What's going on? she asks, covering her breasts with the sheet.
Nothing, I'm fine, I say. Keep sleeping, don't worry.
Something happened to you. Didn't you feel good? Because if it makes you feel good, I had a great time. You took me to heaven, literally.
That's good, I also liked it quite a bit - I steal a kiss - but only because I can't sleep.
She looks out the window and sees the couple next door. She makes a gesture as if she's looking at them. They're in such an unusual pose that I can't describe it. She stays stuck looking at that arrhythmic movement of pelvis and hips. Everything is so bizarre. She grabs my member. Squeezes it.
Not that tight, it hurts.
Oh, sorry.
Don't worry.
I put my hand between her legs, slowly going up. It's wet. I look at her eyes. Her gaze says Yes but also says No.
Do you want another round?
She starts to... looking out the window. They're fucking on a chair. The chair breaks and both fall to the floor. They start laughing. Now they continue fucking on the floor, among sheets, clothes, broken chair parts, and Robert Plant's orgasmic screams in the background (it sounds like Whole Lotta Love) and the girl next door who doesn't stop jumping over her man as if she's going to cum at dawn. Who knows. I feel a hand between my legs. It's her, she wants me, she still wants me just like I want her, with the same lasciviousness and passion and madness with which we did it for the first time in the bedroom of a mansion downtown. I put my hand on her stomach and start going down, we start touching each other softly, slowly, as if we have all the time, as if sleep won't defeat us, we lean back, look at each other, hug and fall asleep. The damn clock keeps striking 4:18.
A kiss wakes me up. It's her. In the fullness of her dark-skinned body, except for the pink pajama pants she wears. She smiles at me. She adjusts her hair in the way and form I love.
I love you, she says to me.
I do too.
I want to feel you. Is your second round still going?
For you? Of course.
I take off her pajama pants and penetrate her. It's like waking up a volcano with one movement, she clings to my neck, asking for more and more and more, moving wildly and desperately on top of me, without giving me any breaks or rest or mercy. She doesn't want me to show her any mercy either. She wants it higher, faster, stronger. Olympic sex, if you will. One groan after another, kissing my neck and scratching my back. Every now and then we look at each other, kiss and keep going without stopping. When I'm about to leave she says:
Finish me off.
I go inside her. She lets out a final, more pleasant groan. We're sweating. She gives me a kiss and starts going down slowly. Kissing me all over. He climbs back on top and rests his chest against mine. We stay like that for a long time, in silence, caressing each other under the sunlight streaming through the windows.
- Is this my idea - he says as he adjusts himself to look at me - or did the clock on the nightstand break?
- Why?
- It marks 4:18.
- Maybe I wanted this moment not to end.
- We kiss and stay gazing at the dawn of a city, naked and sweaty, in bed. The clock marks 4:18.
--- Cheap Bar ---
I hope you enjoyed this brutality 😁! Best regards!
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