meeting

Ok, clearly I am in the middle of some kind of... uprising. What is it that suddenly wakes up in me and won't be denied?

I just got out of a large meeting. Boring.

During the meeting, I started having flashbacks to one of two times I have gone back to a hotel room with someone I met earlier on the same day.

It was while I was in grad school, in an east coast city, and I had gone out dancing by myself. I did this often. It was a straight bar, but I ended up meeting a woman who I found really attractive. We were dancing near each other, talking here and there.
Then she went off to make a phone call.

A few minutes later, I noticed one guy watching me, and he came up to me while I was getting a drink. We flirted, the usual stuff, but at some point, he started to get very serious. I am going to be completely truthful, he said, I am here for one more night and I want you to come back to my room with me.

He didn't mention the woman I had been flirting with, so I wondered if he had seen her. I told him that I was here with a friend, and I needed to talk with her.

Back on the dance floor, I pulled the woman aside and told her about the guy as if it were something funny. Now she became serious as well. Don't go with him alone, she said. I said that this was fine, I wasn't planning on it.

A few hours later, she and I are dancing, talking, and the guy, whom I thought had left, comes up to me again. I'm going. Come with me.

I look at the woman, smiling. She is looking at him. Ok, she said. She will go with you. But only if I can go too. But you can't touch me.

Now I am staring at her!

Less than an hour later, we are walking into his hotel room. The whole way there in the cab, she and I were all over each other. He just sat and watched, and every once and awhile, he would say something like, "Wow." Or, "What are you up to over there?"

But when we walked in the room, she sat on a chair in the corner and told him not to pay any attention to her. She was here to make sure I was safe.


The scary thing for me to remember about this story, is that the guy turned out to be very violent in some ways. But the wonderful thing about it is that I felt like I could let go and almost enjoy it, if that is the right word, because she was there. On the way in, she had called somebody, and she told the person on the phone where she was and what hotel room we were going in to. I know that she did it so that the guy could hear her.

This man, I remember thinking, must not have cum for a long time. He was really rough with me. And he talked the whole way through. He wanted me to tell him I was his slut, and he kept telling me to repeat that. To scream it, even.

At one point, I remember thinking that I should stop him. I felt like he was getting too out of control, but there was a part of me that liked it, I think, and wanted to push it a little more.

At one point, he entered me from the front and every time he would thrust, and not gently, he would slap me lightly on my tits. Then he did it harder. At one point, he slapped my face, gently at first, and I started to prostest. He did it one more time, much harder that time, while he thrust so hard into me that my ass came up off the bed.

At one point, I looked over at the woman. She was just watching. She wasn't touching herself, which I thought she might be doing, or wanted her to be doing. But she looked wary, on guard. Which, in retrospect, I think was a good thing.

You are such a little whore, he said. You like this, I can tell. You are pretty dirty aren't you? He spread my legs open and started to finger fuck me, but with lots of fingers, and very violently. I want to see your pussy stretch out, he said. His voice was raspy at this point, strained.

I could see his cock now, but the odd thing to me at the time was that it wasn't that hard. But while he was fucking me with his hand, he reached down and started yanking on it. Then he took his hand out of me and just focused on jerking himself off for a minute. He told me to watch him and started calling me a range of things. I remember thinking that he was going to be sore... he was pumping so hard and his cock was shiny and red. He let some saliva fall down on the head and grunted while he spread it over his shaft.

At one point, he stopped, and pushed me down on the bed. He entered me again, but this time, his hand was around my neck. I looked over at the woman. She was watching carefully.

How do you like that, he said. Does that make you nervous? He was pumping me hard. he put a little pressure on my neck and I felt light headed. I know this turned him on and he started really banging me, saying Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah every time he slapped up inside me, drawing his cock all the way outside of me, then slamming in again.

But he stopped after a minute, rolled me over, and grabbed my hair, pulling my head back hard. I felt him fingering my asshole, then, suddenly, he was inside. I love to be fucked in the ass, so even though my head was pulled back, I started to moan, and this sent him over the edge. I think this is the most insane I have ever seen someone... Ah, you fucking little cunt, I am going to fuck this ass, this dirty fucking ass... he was almost screaming, grunting with every thrust.

But he didn't cum. I, not surprisingly, had come about three times already, and at this point, I was, frankly, getting really sore. I told him I wanted to watch him jack again, and he threw me on my back and straddled me so that his balls were dangling over my mouth. Then he started to jerk off in short strokes, muttering to himself under his breath. Fucking cunt... you little whore... going to fuck you in the mouth... uhh uhh uhh uhh uhh uhh.

Nothing.

Now I am actually worried for him. He is going to get a blister or something on his cock! I look over at the woman, and she is standing up.

We have to go, she says.

And we did. We just left.

To this day, I feel so, incredibly bad for the guy. It was as if he were trying everything to get to the other side, to let go, but he just couldn't let himself release.

I always wonder if he was able to come after I left. I would like to think that if I had another chance, I could make him, or help him to come. I think I would know what to do now.

I actually kept in touch with that woman for a long time after that - though she has since moved to another country, so we haven't talked in awhile. We never ended up having sex, but I wanted to for a long time.

Another interesting thing about that experience was that it woke me up to a kind of submisssive or masochistic side of me. I don't want to die early or be bruised, but there is something so delicious about just being... used.

But back to the meeting.

I came.

In the meeting.

As in, I came while the meeting was happening as I was remembering this night.

How? No vibrator, no hands, just by crossing my legs and squeezing the muscles together, like I was doing the other day. That's it.

And I feel like I could do it again right now...