Ordinary Day

Ordinary Day

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Summary

Another 500 word or less story. (Prompt word was TOWERING)

Summary

Another 500 word or less story.
(Prompt word was TOWERING)

Content

Submitted: May 23, 2016

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Content

Submitted: May 23, 2016

A A A

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It could’ve been an electricity pylon in Doncaster towering over the hotel outside. We’d chosen Paris for its romance, Doncaster naturally coming a close second, but we hadn’t left the room since we arrived. I’d never been, had wanted to see the sights until the thrill of conquering your body proved a bigger attraction. You’d been here before. With your wife. I didn’t want to think about that. I’d been to Doncaster though. Twice

I was face down on a tousled bed. Unable to move. Sex sated. With limbs heavy and immovable. I stretched a leg out across the sheet beneath me. Seemed an incredible effort for such a short movement, then an arm. And my thoughts were correct. I was alone in the bed, maybe it was a dream. Again. We’d talked about it so often. This. Us. I’d wanted, no, needed it for so long. I let my body and mind slip back towards sleep as I heard a door. A floorboard. The creak & sideways lurch of the bed. And you. You were here, so it wasn’t a dream. Not this time.

And we both must’ve slept because I wake early in the morning and watch you sleep next to me. It seems unreal. Us. Somehow magical. At last together. I get up, head to the balcony. I hadn’t meant to disturb you but you’re there almost immediately behind me. A sleepy smile, a kiss on my shoulder, a hardness as you open your robe and press naked against my back 

You skewer me slowly onto you with a low moan as my body stretches around you. Paris is waking beneath us as we fuck. The sounds of light morning traffic meet our gentle gasps. Fresh morning air teases over my body, goosebumps form joining with the ones you’re making. We forget that anyone could see, too caught up in each others pleasure. 

My head lurches forward, pleasure heavy as my orgasm builds. As I pant it out, curls tumble downwards towards the street below and I see the carpet being swept, an everyday event which seems somewhat poignant. A waiter arrives on a motorbike. He takes his helmet off and shakes his hair out. Ordinary moments. An ordinary day, and I wonder then, will we ever share an ordinary day? 


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