Misch moaned, wrapping her arms around Tal's shoulders, and eventually her legs around his waist. He carried her across the room, leaned them up against the door jam long enough for him to pull her dress straps down her arms. While she shimmied the material away from her chest, he held her close again, moving them into the bedroom.
“I don't even know you,” she panted when he dropped her on the bed.
“You don't need to,” he replied, pulling his shirt off. Her mouth went completely dry as she stared at his amazing body, and he took her moment of shock as an opportunity to move over her, forcing her to lay down.
“I've never slept with somebody I don't know,” she babbled as he pulled her dress down her body before tossing it across the room.
“That doesn't surprise me,” he chuckled, dipping his head and running his tongue over her hip bone. Her eyes rolled back in her head.
“I just can't believe I'm doing this,” she continued.
“I can't believe you're still talking. Get naked,” he urged, but then he took care of the problem himself – he yanked her forward and slid his hand around her back, flicking her bra open. A second later, and that item of clothing joined her dress on the floor.
His mouth immediately went to a nipple and she cried out, her hands going into his hair. She honestly couldn't remember the last time someone other than herself had touched her bare nipples, and now some gorgeous, mysterious, dark man was worshiping them.
I love Italy.
It was dark in the room, but not dark enough to hide her inhibitions. As Tal peeled her panties away from her body, Misch's shivering came back. His own pants hit the floor, then he was back on top of her, his fingers roaming over her skin, his mouth moving across her shoulder.
“How did you know?” Misch whispered, her lips close to his ear.
“Hmmm?”
“How did you know he hadn't touched me in a long time?”
“Because of this,” Tal's voice was practically a hiss, and then his long finger was back between her legs, thrusting in and out. Her back arched off the bed.
“My reaction?” she gasped, hooking her nails into his shoulders.
“No, because you're so tight.”
“What!?”
“You're so tight. You said you've been with him for eight years? No way is this pussy getting fucked on the regular. Pity, but don't worry. I'll make up for those lost years,” he promised her, and a second finger joined the first.
Michael had never talked to her like that; no one had ever talked to her like that before. Sure, they had dabbled in some light dirty talk, but not too much. And not at all in recent times. So someone talking about her “pussy” so casually, it sent a thrill running through her body.
“How did you know I'd come up here with you?” Misch continued. Tal's tongue traced the outline of her nipple, then moved under the swell of her breast.
“I can spot lonely,” he whispered back.
It would've been depressing, if his tongue hadn't felt so good, if his fingers hadn't felt so amazing. They erased everything. Her past, her future, her present. Gone, with one thrust. All that existed was this man, this room, this bed.
He brought her right to the edge of an orgasm, then stopped. While she moaned in protest, he moved to kneel between her legs. His hand gripped her knee, holding it up against his hip. She was still coming down off the high his fingers had given her, so it wasn't till he was pressing against her, pushing inside of her, that she realized what was happening. She froze, started to panic, started to say stop – “wait, I'm not ready! This makes it real!” – but then it was too late. He was already sliding his way into a snug fit.
Oh. My. God. I'd forgotten they come in different sizes.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she breathed, pressing on his shoulders. His hips stopped moving.
“You're fine,” he assured her, kissing and sucking at the sensitive spot under her ear.
“I don't think this is going to happen,” she was now gasping for air, squirming under his weight.
“Why?”
“Because, your dick is huge.”
Tal laughed loudly, which made her laugh, and in that instant of distraction, he jerked his hips forward. Suddenly, they were flush. Misch's laugh turned into a cry, and she was pretty sure her fingernails drew blood from his skin.
“Holy. Fuck,” she managed to say. Her shivering was so bad, her teeth were actually chattering.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, his hips twisting against hers. Making room.
“I … um …,” thoughts apparently didn't exist anymore.
She began to relax and Tal picked up on that, his hips gaining speed. Thrusting harder. She cried out in time to his rhythm, to his dance. She didn't remember the steps anymore – he was showing her. He pulled away from her, moving to lean back on his knees, and she closed her eyes, rubbing her lips together.
“Fuck, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he told her, his hands holding onto her hips and lifting her to him.
“I wish I could feel me the way you do,” Misch replied.
“Open your eyes.”
“What?”
His hand was suddenly gripping her jaw, almost painfully so, and he forced her head to face forward. She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her. He held her in place, his eyes boring into her.
“Keep your eyes open,” he commanded, then his hand fell away.
Misch's eyes lingered on his shoulders, on his chest. On the sweat that was running down his body, getting caught in the lines and definitions of his muscles. Whatever Tal did, it must have required him to keep in shape. Her eyes followed the lines, down to his abs, down to the V cut into his hips. Down to where his pelvis met hers, where it thrust back and forth against her.
“God, you're amazing,” she breathed, licking her lips. He chuckled.
“You're welcome.”
He was pounding into her so hard, she couldn't think straight. She'd never had sex like that, never been fucked like that before. It was scary and amazing and so much more than anything she'd ever expected. He hadn't even been inside her that long, and she could already feel an orgasm blooming low in her body.
“Holy shit. Holy fuck,” she cried out, her hands moving to her breasts, squeezing them.
“Ms. Rapaport, I think you're about to come,” he informed her.
She didn't correct his use of her name.
“Me, too,” she panted.
“Hmmm, not yet,” he whispered.
He pulled away from her and she actually cried out at the loss. She had been empty for so long, she never wanted to not be full of him. But before she could complain, he laid down on her, kissing her sloppily. She sighed against his mouth, tracing her fingers across his slick shoulders.
He kept moving, his mouth running over her chin. Down her throat. Down to her left breast. His teeth grazed the tightened nipple and she hissed. She felt him smile against her, then he was moving again. Tongue sliding down the very center of her stomach. To the very center of her legs. When he actually tried to press his tongue inside of her, she gasped so hard she choked on air.
“Please. Please, Tal, please,” she whined, her fingers twisting in his hair.
“It's been so long for you, hasn't it, baby,” he sighed, kissing the inside of her thigh.
“Yes, yes,” she whispered.
“How often do you touch yourself?”
“A lot.”
“Everyday?”
“Almost.”
“From now on, you'll be thinking of me when you do this,” he whispered, hooking his two fingers inside of her.
“I will,” she agreed.
Then he was lapping her up like she was warm milk, and she was back in that timeless existence. She lifted her hips up, pressing herself against his mouth. She never wanted to be away from it.
He worked the orgasm out of her slowly, almost like it was a game. Cat and mouse. His tongue would drive her to the edge, then he'd
pull away, work his fingers. She couldn't remember if she'd ever experienced an orgasm from just penetration, but she was willing to let him have a go at it. But then he switched it up again, and his tongue and fingers were tag-teaming her.
She shrieked when she came, both her hands in his hair, holding him to her. He didn't seem to mind, just pressed his tongue completely flat against her as hard as he could. She shrieked again, the shivers taking hold of her once more. Then she completely relaxed, let every muscle in her body go limp.
When was the last time I did this? Just went limp? Ever?
“That was outstanding,” he laughed, pulling away from her.
“Yes,” she agreed, pressing a hand to her chest.
Her eyes were closed, so she wasn't aware of what he was doing. Just that he had moved far enough away that she couldn't feel him. Suddenly, his hands were on her hips. He flipped her onto her stomach, surprising her a little. She tried to ask what was going on, but then her hips were yanked up. As she tried to push herself up onto her hands, he slammed into her.
She actually screamed. She hadn't had sex in a long time, and he was a large man. She was almost uncomfortably full. But Tal either didn't notice or didn't care. She was assuming it was the latter, because he slapped her on the ass – two times, more for show. A third time, to sting.
“So fucking hot, so fucking good,” he hissed, holding onto her hips and pulling her back every time he slammed forward.
She literally couldn't breathe. Or at least that's what it felt like to Misch. Her mouth was open, her face pressed against the mattress, her hands above her head. She pressed them against the wall, used that to shove back into him. It felt like his dick was brushing against the base of her brain. Interfering with basic thought process.
This is fucking amazing.
He roughly grabbed her left arm and yanked it behind her back. He pulled on it till she was forced up off the mattress, forced to arch her back towards him. Then he pinned her wrist to the bottom of her spine, just above her ass. His other hand worked its way to her front, squeezing her breast. Pinching her nipple.
“Oh. My. God. Tal. Please,” she panted along with his thrusts. He gripped harder on her breast, pulled harder on her arm, forced her back closer to him.
“I'm gonna come soon, Mischa,” he whispered, leaning close so his lips were at her ear, his teeth grazing it.
“Me, too. Me, too,” she cried. She couldn't believe it. She'd only ever come twice during sex maybe a handful of times in her entire life – even with herself! Now a complete stranger was going to accomplish it like he had been training for it.
“Good girl. Very good girl.”
His hand let go of her breast and slithered down her body, pressing between her thighs. Those long fingers, goddamn. She could feel a finger on either side of his dick, then he was pulling back, drumming his fingers against her sensitive skin. Then back again, sliding against his thrusts. So many sensations, so little time.
She screamed his name, coming hard enough that she couldn't maintain her balance. She fell forward and he let her arm go, let her top half fall flat on the mattress. She whimpered and shuddered and clenched, all while he slammed away. Then he let out a roar, and she could actually feel him coming, feel him pumping into her. He bent over her, his chest pressed to her back.
Misch wasn't sure how long they laid like that together. Long enough that her knees slowly slid out from underneath her. He went down with her and she laid flat on the bed, with him on top of her. He panted, his breath hot against the back of her neck. His hand rested on top of her arm, his thumb brushing back and forth.
“You do that like it's your sport in the Olympics,” she managed to breathe. He snorted at her.
“Do I get all tens?” he asked.
“Fuck yeah.”
He kissed her in the middle of her shoulder blades, then pushed himself off of her. She closed her eyes, ready to pass out, but he grabbed her arm again and began pulling her off the bed.
“C'mon, let me show you what I can do with a detachable shower head,” he said in a low voice, pulling her towards the bathroom.
I love Italy.
*
There was an incessant chirping noise. Misch waved her hand at it, but it didn't go away. She groaned and tried to unbury herself from the blanket and pillows that seemed to be all over her. She didn't remember there being so many pillows on her bed before, she'd have to toss some onto the floor.
She finally broke free, and reality crashed in on her. They weren't her pillows. It wasn't her bed. It wasn't her room. Not even her hotel. In fact, she didn't even know what hotel she was in at all.
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. What have I done!?
“Answer your goddamn phone,” a voice grumbled near her.
Misch jumped, a little startled, and turned to the lump next to her. Tal was laying on his stomach. She pressed her hands over her face for a second, then looked at him again. The sheet had been yanked away from him, only covering his legs up to his thighs, revealing the fact that he wasn't wearing any clothing.
Neither was she.
Misch slithered sideways out of the bed, taking the top blanket with her, leaving the sheet for him. When she had the blanket wrapped around her body, she tiptoed across the suite. Found her bag where it had fallen on the floor. She dug through it till she located the chirping noise. She pulled out her cell phone and looked at the screen.
Mikey Boy
She felt sick, to the point she pressed a hand over her mouth to stop herself from throwing up right then and there. To make matters worse, she heard movement from the bedroom. Tal was getting out of bed.
“I'm gonna take another shower. Wanna join me?” he asked through a yawn. She shook her head.
“No,” she managed to answer, though her voice was coming from somewhere near the middle of her throat.
“You sure?”
His voice sounded sly, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see him strut past the bedroom door, still completely naked.
She refused to take a second look.
“I'm sure,” she replied. Her phone stopped chirping and she looked down. She had a new voicemail.
“Your loss. I'll be a couple minutes, order us breakfast,” he called out. Then she heard the bathroom door shut, quickly followed by the shower turning on.
Misch went into full blown panic mode. She ran around the hotel room, searching for her shit. She wiggled her panties back on, but couldn't find her bra anywhere. She gave up and slid her dress on without it. Glanced in the mirror. She actually had pretty good breasts, she didn't really need a bra, but she felt like when she didn't wear one and it was obvious, like it was with that dress, it screamed “slut”.
Well, technically, if the slutty shoe fits …
“Oh god,” she moaned out loud, digging her shoes out from underneath the bed.
She rushed across the hotel room, swiping a pair of sunglasses on her way out the door. Her hands were shaking as she put them on in the elevator, but by the time she got out at the lobby, she was almost in control of herself again.
Almost.
It wasn't till she got to her own hotel that she realized she'd left her purse back at Tal's. There really wasn't much of importance left behind – thankfully her wallet and passport weren't in it. Just some necessities for spending a day out and about were in the purse. But it also had her insurance binder, and her hotel room key card.
Fuck.
“I'm sorry, I misplaced my key,” she said in a low voice at the front desk. She felt like the clerk was staring at her.
Can people just tell!? Does it say “heartless cheating bitch” on my forehead!?
But no one said anything, and she was issued a new key. Her phone started ringing again on the way up to her room, but she still couldn't talk to Mike.
No, that would have to wait till the tears stopped. They had started on the elevator ride up, and weren't showing any signs of stopping. Not when she got into h
er room. Not when she crawled into her shower. And not when her husband called again, an hour later.
~Mischa~
Something I have learned in life is that things are never as they seem.
You think love is one thing – turns out, it's whole big barrel of fucked-up-ness.
You think marriage is one thing – turns out, it's an even bigger barrel of fucked-up-ness.
You think you can plan something down to the letter – but really, things will go down however they're going to go down, regardless of your planning.
You think you've made up your mind – but someone can make it up for you.
You think you're resolved to do something – and then you do the exact opposite.
God, everything I've ever thought is wrong. Every. Fucking. Thing. Mike. My feelings for him. Our marriage. How I could fix it. How I couldn't fix it. How I could cheat to feel better about myself. How I could keep it a secret so he could continue feeling good about himself.
Wrong.
I had resigned myself to not cheat – then it had happened.
I thought it would make me feel better – it made me feel amazing.
I thought I could keep it secret – there was no way I couldn't tell him.
~Telephone Speak~
“Hi.”
Misch twisted a lock of hair around her finger. She'd given herself many hours to calm down, to think of what she would say. In her original “plan”, she had been ready to keep it a secret. Just a one time fling she could keep to herself, a memory to keep her warm. Having actually gone through with it, though, she quickly realized there was no way she could keep it a secret. There was no way he could never know.
For starters, she was feeling an odd combination of amazing and wretched. Tal had fucked her into another plane of existence – part of her had stayed there. She had never had sex like that; Tal had made her feel things that no one else had ever made her feel. It was like he'd owned her body, yet had given it back to her. She was a Rubik's cube, and Tal had solved her.
My Time in the Affair Page 4
