Beauty in Darkness
I fucked up. But in a good way, I think.
I don't work on Fridays but I had a meeting on Friday I couldn't miss. My car was in for a major service so I had to ask my coworker Natasha to drive me.
After my meeting, Christopher found me in my office waiting for Nat.
He offered to take me home and I thought why the hell not?
It's a 15 minute drive to my house so we just made small talk. Comfortable, mind you.
He parked his car in front of my gate and said, not asked, said 'Invite me in' so I did.
I made coffee, some more small talk and then it happened.
He said 'I want you'
My stupid brain couldn't think so I asked 'You want me to do what?'
He didn't answer. He pressed me against the kitchen counter and slid his hand under my dress.
But the way he did it. I mean, fuck.
I couldn't look at him. He asked me to look at him and I just shook my head.
Here's the thing. When you're with someone (a cheating someone) for 9 years, and then someone who treated you like a fucking object. Throw in a one night stand and a two week contract with a sadomasochist. Let's just say I had no fucking self esteem left after that shit show. So when Christopher looked at me like I was something to eat it was hard to breathe.
When I finally lifted my head to look at him, he asked me if I was wet. He had a finger inside me before I could answer. I had to hold onto the counter because god fucking dammit my knees!
Then the beautiful bastard said he wants to punish me for teasing him with 'this fucking dress'
My brain let me down again, because I said 'Do it'
And he did. He took me to my bedroom. We got rid of our clothes and we fucked. It was too much and not enough simultaneously. I asked him not to hold back and he did not disappoint.
Afterwards, we just talked for a while, still naked and sweaty. Christopher's hands and mouth roamed all over my body the whole time. From pinching my nipples, to sucking them. When he told me to open my legs, I opened them. Then my hands explored every inch of his beautiful body, followed by my mouth. This went on for a while, maybe hours. We had sex a second time, this time slower.
He left,with a promise. A promise that we'd do it again soon,leaving me feeling slightly guilty. No fucking clue why, though.
I can still feel him and it's a glorious feeling.
I smile every time I look at the bite mark on my shoulder.
What the fucking hell is wrong with me?
I fucked up.
But I'd do it again.