Ed and Aasta’s Weekend

I, having booked a flight to Reno, arrive early and pick up the hotel key Ed reserved.  As he is driving and dealing with an old Porsche’s lack of reliability and of bad drivers to meet me, I have no real idea of what to expect.  As if I needed more tension in the adventure, I am meeting a man I have never met and know very little about.  Will he chase me around the room with his riding crop or push me down hard on the rug, ripping the expensive clothes I bought for the occasion, and rape me unprotected?   While I hope for a positive outcome from this weekend of lust – to at least be fucked senseless - I am wary of the worst.  It is risk that makes things exciting…

Damn, I was hoping he would arrive first, have fresh roses and champagne in the room with perhaps a little snack.  But now I am left to wait alone in a sterile but nice hotel room with the only appealing thing - a big bed.  There is no way to call and confirm as cell phones do not work in the mountains.    Then a knock on the door!  I am afraid to answer it.  What kind of pervert is this guy? 

I put on the chain and crack open the door.  It is him!  “Hi, Aasta,” – his voice is flat and friendly – “Can I come into my hotel room?”  I unchain the door, a little relieved.  I have heard his voice but never in person; it is a nice voice.  Not one that makes me cum at the sound of it, but a firm and friendly voice.  It’s ok – my fears have run amok.  This guy I want so desperately to finally touch me is standing alone in the hall. 

My heart beats faster and I open the door thinking about the first hug and kiss; how it will feel to touch him.  Ed walks in with a small bag – not a traveling bag – something different, and simply says “hot”.  He puts the bag down by the table, stretches and looks around. In a flat voice he asks, “Been waiting long?”   Lying I say, “No”, but my voice squeaks.  It has only been 45 minutes, but it has seemed a lifetime of anticipation, worry, fear and anxiety.  

Ed approaches me and takes his hands in mine, holding them to my sides, preventing a hug. He kisses me innocently on the forehead.  “So this is Aasta – the woman that makes me so horny – my online fuck buddy – let me look at you!”  He steps back three feet as if inspecting a work of art and says flatly, “Stand still – do not move!”  And while it is not a command, it is firm and I comply.  He walks around me, looking, not saying anything as if I am on approval like stamps sent out to a collector.  I watch him, and in many ways his stature and manner are, like the description of his cock, average.  I am a little concerned I flew thousands of miles to meet a common and average guy dressed in a Hawaii shirt and sandals. 

Ed starts to walk around me again, telling me to hold still.  He looks at my back and touches my shoulders, again saying “Hold perfectly still; don’t move” and unzips my dress from behind.   It drops to the floor.  Ed returns to stand three feet in front of me, looking at me, appraising me, trying to see the reason I make him so horny.   I stand perfectly still, perfectly calm.  But in an even tone he says, “Aasta, take off the bra and panties.”  I am wearing light green lace underwear.  Well, at least Ed did not rip this expensive set off!  I have an older worn set in my luggage for that little number.  And so far he has not raped me or fucked me up the ass.  So far things are a little strange, but not out of hand. 

I know I have to do this.  The alternative – I do not want to know.  Stuck alone in a Reno hotel room for two nights is not an outcome I am hoping for.  And now is the moment of truth.  Now is that moment in my life where there is no time to hesitate, no time to procrastinate, no time for excuses.  I want so badly to fuck this man.  His touch on my back was like magic - like electricity lighting up every pore.  Underneath the stiffness and average stature is a sensuality that is hard to label.  

Slowly and clumsily I unhook my bra.  I toss it on the bed and then slide my panties off, unhooking each side from my feet almost falling in the process, using the bed for support.  And now here I am naked and thousands of miles away and no one to protect me.  Ed starts to circle me again, telling me to “relax – everything will be fine”.  “Just stand still and let me look at you.”  

He comes close and my breathing is a little fast.  I am shaking a little and my hands are sweaty.  Is this because of what he will do to me next?  Ed knows; I don’t.  He could easily pull a razor from his pocket and slash me, holding me in his arms while I bleed to death and die; or a better scenario: lick and kiss me all over.  I really do not know.  From behind Ed touches my shoulders.  Again, his touch is like magic; it simultaneously calms and excites me.  I am wet – hell, I was wet from the moment I left home. 

I was wet on the plane and it has been extremely difficult for me not to touch myself.  During the long plane ride I was tempted to go to the bathroom and have just one little orgasm to satisfy – to calm.  Yet, I did not want to take that edge off; I wanted to be with Ed raw – all my senses at attention; to feel him crawl under my skin.   When I got to the hotel room I had to change underwear because I was dripping between my legs.

Ed pushes back my hair, touches my belly and with one hand cups my breast, giving it a small and light kiss.  He’s now smiling a little as he takes me by the hand and leads me to the bed, pulling back the covers and laying me on my back.  Again, he examines my naked body.  Kneeling next to the bed Ed caresses and kisses me from head to toe.

How can an air conditioned room be hot? 

Drenched in sweat I awake to a growling – an emptiness.  Only this time the emptiness is not in my cunt.  That is quite full – quite sated.  Not from love making – well it started as love making after being gently touched on the bed, but graduated to uninhibited pent up fucking with two bodies crashing into each other, urgently seeking pleasure and satisfaction.

But now I am hungry – a hunger only a good steak can cure.  And lots of red wine.  On my way to the bathroom I look at the snoring farting lump on the bed with a shriveled up cock lying used and wonder how the animalistic passion could have been so strong.  How did this average common looking guy with a few too many miles on him near fuck me to death?  And suddenly my knees buckle.  I have to grab the doorway to regain my balance.  Not only has my pussy been fucked mercilessly, but every muscle in my body caved to the passion.  I am still weak, shaking, even after a cozy nap. 

Still thinking of our erotic fucking awakes my passion.  I am getting wet again just thinking about it.  The impression of his body, his hands, and his cock haunt my body.  The sex is so embossed in me not even a hot shower can wash off my sticky and sweaty cunt.  Those reminders only envelop my mood of want and desire.  They make me greedy for more.   I want to freeze his explosion inside of me.  Put the molecules of passion back together again and have them explode over and over like an expanding universe.  Damn – stop thinking about it!  Time to eat!

“Aasta, hurry up” Ed yells from the bedroom.  “I am hungry.”  I am fixing my makeup and trying to hide the nibble marks on my neck.  What will people think?  Damn it, he is so controlling.  I want to rebel, work longer on my make up just to piss him off, but I comply.  Still sore, but hungry too, I drop everything.  I think – not dare saying it - why do we have to go out?  There is room service.  We could eat and then fuck some more.  That is the problem with older men.  They just cannot keep going.  But as reassured as I am now that my worst fears turned to ultimate passion, I know Ed has a sharp side.  I never know for sure what he will do.  Maybe he’ll soften me up with sex and next …

As I emerge from the bath Ed is waiting, smiling.  “You look beautiful - almost good enough to eat!”  He holds out his arms for a big hug and I come to him reflexively falling into his arms with no effort – no concern for mussing my makeup and hair.  He holds me tightly gently kissing my lips and then slowly, over my clothes, works his way down my body kissing my breasts, my stomach and between my legs.  Ed slips his hands up under my skirt and hooks my panties with his fingers, pulling them off.  He dives his tongue into my wet pussy and I am lost again – despite my hunger, I lose control.  As quickly as he molests my body he stops, stands, and says “let’s go”, pocketing my panties for later use. 

The restaurant is dark. We get a booth in the back away from the other guests.  When the waiter arrives with the menu, Ed takes mine away from me and hands it back.  “I will be ordering for the lady”, Ed tells the waiter and pinches my thigh hard when I object.  “We will split the house Caesar; she will have her petite filet very rare.”  Ed orders the salmon and a baked potato with butter and a bottle of Cabernet.  The waiter leaves and Ed takes an ice cube from his glass, pulls up my dress and runs the ice cube up my inner thigh and over my pussy, pushing it inside.  The air conditioning and ice cube cools my desire and give me a chill. 

“Aasta, since we are in Nevada where prostitution is legal, I have an idea.  What if we drive out to the Bunny Ranch tomorrow and have a look around.”  I am suspicious.  What is he thinking now?  Ed smiles, “It is just a game – but if you don’t like it we can just cuddle and kiss.  We have our passion behind us.  Now we can relax, enjoy ourselves.” 

He pulls me close and kisses me on the lips.  And then begins to whisper in my ear a complete and detailed account of our afternoon together.  Blow by blow – bit by bit.  How I felt under him.  How my hips moved to join him.  How my pussy milked his cock, forcing his cum from him, making him cum before he wanted too.  How my need and my shaking body drove him to the edge of insanity.  How the whole thing started gently with soft kisses over my body.  How my fear and apprehension caused me to be stiff – cautious at first…

While I am naked lying on my back on the bed, Ed gently kisses only my lips and putting his hands gently on my face, he traces my facial structure as a blind person would, learning every curve, every turn, until it is imprinted on his mind, his lips and fingers.  I kiss and worship his features as if I am experiencing the pain, suffering and hard work that built his character.  I kiss him tentatively at first and as I learn his lips, his movements, we become synchronized, kissing and breathing together.  Teasing my lips with his tongue, he forces me to come to him – to want a kiss more and more demanding with lust.  As my breathing increases, it becomes impossible for Ed to hold my body still.  We kiss deeper and more intently; my legs begin to move involuntarily, wrapping myself around his body.

His lips and tongue begin by making love to my mouth and then passion degenerates into a mouth fucking, his jaw forcing my mouth fully open as I beg for more and more of his tongue.  I want his cock in my mouth, his hands on my body, his fingers in my cunt, and still he teases and only kisses my mouth, neglecting the rest of my body’s wants, needs and desires.  My tension, apprehension is lost first to passion and later to absolute need.

Just when I can stand it no longer he kiss my neck, putting the back of his knuckle in my mouth; he bites gently as first he kisses my neck and then sucking and nibbling, he gives me a high school mark of passion, a reminder that we did more than fuck.  It is the first of the brands he will leave on my body and in my memory. 

Moving across my upper chest with small light kisses, Ed works his way around my breast, kissing very gently the underside and working around in large circles.  His hands caress my neck and upper chest as he kisses the lower portions of my breasts.  My hips are now moving involuntarily, fucking the air and a phantom cock.  Slowly Ed works his way in on my breasts, homing in on the nipple but never touching it.  He alternates between my breasts with kisses that are more and more intense, but never kiss my nipples that are getting harder and harder. Sliding one hand higher he grips my throat, the other hand slides lower to calm the motion of my hips by holding them still with pressure on my hip bones.

As he holds my throat in a rather firm but gentle grip – again suddenly raising my apprehension, Ed blows gently on one nipple.  Even in an air conditioned room, we are sweating mildly – a light cold sweat covers my whole body.  Is it from the heat outside or the heat inside my body - my uninhibited passion trying to break free?  With each blow on my nipple my body responds – I feel a tightening between my legs and a desire for Ed to suck on my nipples.  Yet he waits, driving me crazy, making my pussy wait for its pleasure. 

Suddenly, when I can’t stand it any more, when my body is writhing in the agony of passion – hell, let’s face it; having sex is more important than life itself - something inside my cunt pursuits a necessity for survival.  It does not matter if it is this man who has taken control of my body so thoroughly and completely, or a dirty bum off the street, or a hooker with a dildo, I must have my needs met.  Just when there is no hope – when the tease has gone to the extreme - Ed sucks my nipple into his mouth.  Sucking softly at first and then stronger, he holds my body in place with a strong grip on my throat and another on my hips. 

Ed continues to suck on my nipples, first one and then the other, putting increasing pressure on my neck and hips to keep my body still.  But my body will not be denied.  I are squirming, bucking and moaning.  Just from sucking my breasts I am about to cum.  My lack of air and the force on my body only increases the eroticism.  Yet, Ed continues to suck and kiss my nipples while massaging my breasts with his mouth.  It is almost like he has grown a third hand. 

As suddenly as this passion attack started, it stops.  Ed is still holding me in place, looking at me on the bed.  He removes his hands from my body and watches my body squirm on the bed, begging him.  He does not respond, only watches me.  My hands go instinctively to my clit and Ed slaps them away.  I try to turn towards him, and he pushes me back on the bed.  Begging, I plead “Please – I will do anything – please make love to me – please fuck me.”  After a while, when it is clear he just wants to look at me, I beg him again.  “At least give me a release, let me touch myself.”

As he goes off to relieve himself, leaving me on the bed naked, still moving, touching myself, Ed returns just before I can cum.  I am so close – just a second more of climbing that mountain to fall off the cliff of emotion and pleasure.

Lying on the bed beside me, he pulls my hands away.  Rubbing his cock on my side he lets me feel what the future holds.  But not yet; he does not let my hands touch it.  Instead, he bends and starts to kiss my belly - working back and forth to each hip.  One hand is on my breast massaging them both together – sort of gently mauling them while only occasionally touching my nipples…

Just then the waiter arrives with the cart for our Caesar salads.  Ed stops whispering the details so he can concentrate on the preparation.  The interruption of his whisperings and of the arrival of our food has the same effect as it had in the bedroom.  I am wet and squirming and almost feel I could cum again.

The steak arrives – rare and bloody.  “I am not eating that – it is still jumping around on the plate.”  Suddenly a hand firmly grips my knee.  Not hard enough to leave bruises but contacting the muscles in such a way as to create a taste of pain.  But more, the grip suggests the possibility of extreme pain and prevents me from moving.  Pressure points when touched correctly can have a profound impact on the body.

“Cut off a piece.  Let’s have a look.” Ed is stern.  He cuts into the blood rare steak revealing a very rare one that barely saw the grill, just enough to grill the outside and heat the meat all the way through.  He takes the fork, stabs the cut-off piece, smells it and pushes it towards my closed mouth. With a quick pinch of my knee I open my mouth to let out a sound and the piece of steak goes in.  Yes, we are in a restaurant, a crowded restaurant at that.  Screaming would be embarrassing.  Making a scene would get us kicked out and maybe in Reno even arrested.  After waiting an hour for entry into the best steak house in town and after a thorough screwing, I am hungry enough to eat a horse.

What is worse, being embarrassed or being forced to eat raw steak?   Ed whispers “Eat the steak or no more sex this weekend.  I will just leave right now in the middle of dinner and drive home.  Now eat and not another word.”

Pissed, I cut ever smaller bites from the steak, washing each down with the Cabernet.  Surprisingly, as I eat, the meat tastes better.  The combination of red wine and the red meat revive my appetite for lust.  Again, forced with Ed’s hand on my knee, he squeezes when I slow down.  But as I chew, he moves his hand higher on my leg, caressing my inner thighs, bringing back feelings of passion despite my anger.

Whispering, he rubs my inner thigh and brushes against my pubic hairs, “You have been a bad little girl and when we get back to the room you are getting a spanking.  Now eat every single bite or you will not get dessert.”  Turning his attention to the salmon and baked potato with butter, Ed relishes his meal. 

As the wine sets in and Ed moves his hand on my thigh, I begin to relax and he allows me to share some of the baked potato.  Again, he begins to talk about our love making.  How he kissed my stomach and pubic mound, how he found his way to my thighs and teased the crease of my legs as it joins with my inner thigh and the outer lips of my pussy… 

After about an hour of teasing my body with his tongue, exploring every square inch except my pussy, Ed slides on top of me.  Pinning my shoulders with his knees to the bed, he holds himself over me, his throbbing cock inches from my face.  Rubbing his wetness on my cheeks he teases my face, first by rubbing his foreskin on my cheeks and then letting my lips feel its softness – but only my lips.  He teases my mouth.  Ed’s fingers that just explored briefly my wet pussy are pushing against my lips and into my mouth, then pushing my mouth open as his cock circles my lips.  Ed starts to cock whip my face. “Do you want it?”  I moan deeply.  “Tell me you want my cock in your mouth. Tell me you are a cock sucker!”

I blurt out “Yes!” unable to control myself.  As Ed slaps his cock on my face and mouth I move my head trying in vain to capture it. His fingers trace my mouth as he slides lower on me.  Laying completely on me Ed kisses my mouth hard, tracing my lips with his tongue and spreading my legs apart with his.  I felt his cock trace down the center of my body, between my breasts, over my pubic mound and pressing against my inner thighs.  As he kisses me, my body is moving involuntarily as I try to capture his prick in my cunt just like I was previously trying to capture it in my mouth. 

Continuing to kiss me, Ed caresses my body with his hands, running them from my shoulders – our arm pits – lightly down the side of my breasts to my hips.  In doing so, Ed puts pressure on my hip bones with each hand and slides his cock against me.  Just between my outer lips but not inside me, just touching me with an unsafe, unknown and uncovered cock, do I have the will power to resist? 

“You want my cock don’t you?  You want it buried deep in your cunt”, he whispers in my ear.  Just as I start to lose my will power, Ed slides lower on me, moving his cock away from me and sliding both hands along my sides again, touching my breasts and coming closer each time to my nipples while kissing me hard on the mouth.

As Ed reaches the top of his cycle he pulls my mouth back from mine, holding my face and teasing my lips with his tongue, making me beg for a kiss.  Slowing relaxing, he stops and allows me to squirm under him.  He is pinning me to the bed.  I cannot move, only try with my legs to pull or encourage him into me to fill that void, that emptiness the words, love, hate and fear cannot fill.  I want him to fill my burning and overwhelming emptiness made acute by desire.  I want to fuck him – fuck him hard – roll him over and impale myself on his cock, crush my clit down in his pubic mound and ride him to overpowering orgasms until I collapse exhausted, spent and full of him… 

The only thing I can think of is filling the void again.  I need him in me now, and yet I am trapped – trapped as I was beneath Ed – trapped in a restaurant forced to eat a rare steak I did not order, trapped in reliving the frustration of lust, trapped in the wine-induced renewed horniness with my cunt once again aching for his hard cock, trapped in the open with a hand between my legs and a man threatening to spank me because I have been bad.  Trapped by time that wanted to stand still, if only for that moment of fleeting completeness as he had finally let me cum and cum; trapped now only to be empty again. 

“Would you care for dessert?” the waiter asks.