My heart raced as I watched Harry from the bed. He was sitting on the windowsill, with the window wide open, looking out at the cloudless night sky, the stars twinkling away brightly in contrast to the dark forest surrounding the quiet hotel we were in.
I gulped as I surveyed the moonlight catching his firm stomach at just the right angle, the dark tattoo inked on his ribs in bold cursive plainly visible even in minimal lighting. I gently slipped my hand up and caressed my own ribs, knowing that an identical tattoo was inked there as well.
Amantes sunt amentes. Lovers are lunatics, the quote we had chosen to get tattooed onto ourselves. And the Latin saying was very true, because for love you do crazy things, you become crazy, just so you can get that addictive feeling, the pleasure that no one else can provide. You’d follow them to hell and back, just for the feeling they give you, but somehow it always ends up being the wrong person.
Like Harry and I. We pushed the feelings away for so long, pretended they didn’t exist, hoped we were just imagining things. But of course we weren’t, and then there we were, in a small hotel in the middle of nowhere, I ‘on a business trip,’ him ‘visiting family.’ Both of us waiting, praying for the day that we wouldn’t have to sneak around, we could walk down the street holding hands, share a home, a family, a life. Not have to have stolen evenings here and there, whispered midnight phone calls, quiet hints to friends and family, all the while having to return home at the end of the day to different people, people we didn’t love. What we were doing was awful, but it was so addictive, it felt so right it couldn’t be bad.
I pushed the thoughts away, told myself that soon we could be together properly. I turned my attention back to him, watching as his long fingers pulled out a Marlboro from the packet, placing it in his mouth, the way his plump lips folded around the cigarette, his mouth pursed as he searched for his lighter.
I slid off the bed, swinging my legs and rocking my hips, snaking my way over to him, the lighter in hand. I flicked it on so he could see, then bent down and cupped my hand around the cigarette, flicking the lighter on and watching the end of the fag turn into molten embers as it caught alight. He breathed deeply, signing in content.
I tangled my fingers with his, pulling him from the open window and back into bed. We had to make the most of our time, I thought, as the minutes ticked past, counting down until we had to part. His large fingers tangled with mine as he gladly followed me back to bed. I sunk back onto the unmade bed as he passes me the cigarette. I took a deep breath, letting the toxins sink into my veins, a sense of calm settled over me. Harry reached down beside the bed, his fingers wrapping around the neck of the Jack Daniels bottle as he brought it up to his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the amber liquid slid down his throat.
After a few deep drags, I pass the cigarette back in exchange for the whiskey, and after a few more puffs on the cigarette, Harry stubs it out, the sparks flickering weakly as they die out. He turns to me, his slightly drunken eyes full of passion and love. I haphazardly place the bottle back on the floor, before turning back to Harry. He grabs my face with both hands as we forcefully kiss, tasting the whiskey on each other’s lips and tongues. My hands ran over his chest and stomach, tracing his abs as if there was something about him or his body that I had yet to discover. His hands massaged my breasts, applying just enough pressure so that it hurt, but the good kind of pain. I fell back onto the pillows as his firm body reared above me, roughly kissing my neck, breaking the skin.
‘I want him to know you’re mine.’ He growled in my ear, and at that moment, I wouldn’t have cared if the entire world had found out about us, our secret love, as long as Harry kept up what he was doing.
I moaned loudly, my voice cutting through the silent night air. Harry kissed down my neck, leaving a trail between my breasts before he moved onto my left breast, kissing round the nipple before taking it into his mouth as his hand violently massaged the other breast. My hands grabbed onto his biceps so hard, the skin would surely be covered in nail shaped marks in the morning. He repeated the action, before moving down and kissing across my stomach. He pulled my cotton thong off, using one of his large hands to spread my thighs. He kissed down my dripping slit as I let out a whimper.
‘Please Harry,’ was my weak, strangled cry. ‘Please, no more. I just want you, all of you. Please.’ I begged, my need blocking out any embarrassment that would usually be felt by me begging Harry to fuck me. He hummed against my clit, kissing one last time before pulling away. I turned and straddled him, ran my hands down his chest, before latching them onto his boxers. He was thick and hard, straining against the tight black material that kept him confined. I pulled the boxers down his thighs, as his manhood sprang forth. The boxers were discarded as I took his thick penis in my hand, working the shaft quickly. His head lolled back against the pillow, strangled groans spilling from his mouth. I then took him into my hot, wet mouth, and just this was almost enough to make him cum. I licked up and down his shaft, sucking the head.
He grunted, before pushing me away, onto my back. His body rose above mine once more, as I parted my legs, feeling his hardness rub against my inner thigh. He reached down between us, rubbing my clit quickly before he pushed himself into me. We both groaned, and I felt myself stretching to accommodate him. He began to move, slowly at first. He braced himself on his forearms, before going faster, pounding into me with seemingly endless vigour. I rocked my hips in an opposite rhythm to him, as his hand snaked between our bodies and rubbed my clit quickly, willing me to cum at the same time as him.
I wrapped my hands round his neck, crashing his sweaty chest to mine as we approached our highs together. Harry grunted as he exploded inside of me, my toes curled and various curse words and strangled moans of each other’s names fell from our lips, as our orgasms overtook us, blocking out everything except for us. For a split second, the world didn’t exist, everything was just me and Harry, Harry and I.
And then there we were once again. Both of us drifting off to sleep as we tried to block the thought of the morning, the oncoming separation out of our minds. Just Harry and I, naked and wrapped in the hotel sheets, cuddled up together, smelling of sweat and booze and cigarette smoke, just us, like it should have always been.