Aftermath Awkwardness

[CassidyTheCowgirl]

I heard my own soft breathing before I opened my eyes. Still alive. In the dark I could make out the snoring form of my fleeting lover, breathing slowly, blissfully, a result of our frantic encounter the night prior. The brilliance of the sun had begun to invade the room through the swaying purple silk blinds, further illuminating the room, if only minimally. It was hard not to think about last night as I perused the state of this warm setting in my search for my panties.

The door was mercifully closed, and I thanked whatever lustful gods watched over us last night that we didn’t forego shutting the door in our race to become intimate after our meet and greet at the Red Heat club. A hotel keycard lay haphazardly on the cold wooden floor, dropped by my lover to make room for cupping my breast as his tongue invaded my mouth in a display of animal magnetism. 

There was a laptop half-shut and dangerously close to the edge of the kitchenette counter, and I recall fumbling about the area before being lifted onto the island and fondled, hands desperate to support my trembling shape in the dark. 

A trail of clothes led to the queen-sized bed and under my bare feet; dress shirt, blouse, jeans, and jewelry, but nary a sign of my presumably now-dry pink panties. 

I turned my head to the foot of the bed, a depressed spot in the blanket flooding me with a drowsy little memory of sloppily pleasuring my suitor as he groaned and sucked wind. In retrospect, I was lucky to not upchucked my nightly drinks all over him. I wasn’t a subject matter expert in the art of fellatio, and my gag reflex left much to be desired. 

In the folds of the sheets I spotted my object of interest, taking them in my careful hand. I recalled the frame of the bed and the feeling of my panties being slid down my thighs before kicking them off and returning to all fours. My scalp was sore from the pull of my hair, and my ass was raw from the force of the spankings. 

I decided against putting them back on, and by the time I had buttoned my red blouse and stuffed the article of clothing in my back pocket, I was more than adamant about my decision, feeling gross enough already. My heels slipped on easily enough, and I was halfway through the room, purse in hand, when- 

“Morning, beautiful.” Oh, crap. 

I put on my best smile and turned around, “Hey!.. H- Good morning. Didja sleep okay?” 

He yawned, arms stretching outwards in a less than seductive display of himself. John. James. Something with a J. Doesn’t matter. He was hot, he was single for the night, and I was insecure enough to bed a stranger, risks be damned, though the wedding band was enough to drop my stomach post-coitus. As he drew his yawn to a close, he began nodding, replying, “Yeah, yeah, slept like baby actually. These beds are-“ he noticed that I was fully clothed and uncomfortable. 

“Oh. Are you leaving?” He corrected course quick, a look of confusion on his face, maybe even an ounce of emotional pain. 

I winced, eyes squinted, caught. I loathed awkwardness like this. Never was a fan of leaving in the morning but I couldn’t for the life of me not fall asleep after a good lay. I had to say something, “I- I just thought I’d get us some.. breakfast.” Smooth as butter. 

J smiled, a little one, crisis averted. He leapt to the other side of the bed, dick swinging, and pulled his pants toward him. Producing a wallet, he directed a bill toward me, motioning to it. I took it. Damn it. A Benjamin. High roller. 

“Ham and cheese, if you please,” he said coyly before chuckling. I giggled internally, a reaction whenever someone I’m attracted to makes a funny, whether it is or not, “Keep the change, by the way. I.. I had fun last night, Cassidy.” 

It’s hard to feel offended when you’re holding what amounted to free money in the palm of your hand. I could fix this man a sandwich and keep a cool hundred, just like that, if I wanted to. All I did was have sex, my second favorite hobby, and this stranger felt compelled to pay me for my time. Now I knew how escorts felt, and it was empowering. A little degrading, but empowering. 

He was still staring expectantly. Fun, he said he had fun, “Me, too... We should-“ I caught myself before I created another unwanted opportunity for myself, “I’ll be back in a little.” 

He nodded, searching for the remote, and I shut the door.

--

So, big fan of MnF club. A friend of mine there referred me to this forum to, I guess, browse and post stories when the mood strikes (as it often does). Here's my first actual post (yay), and I'd love to hear any criticism, good or bad. I'm always looking to improve. Thanks!

[Willy_for_Boobies]

I liked to read it ;-))
Good writing ;-))
Please continue ;-))

[CassidyTheCowgirl]

(11-27-2017, 07:04 PM)Willy_for_Boobies Wrote: I liked to read it ;-))
Good writing ;-))
Please continue ;-))

Aw, thanks. You know, I just might. Just for you, Will.

[Fernins]

That's a good one, like willy said   So keep it up.

[CassidyTheCowgirl]

(11-27-2017, 07:30 PM)Fernins Wrote: That's a good one, like willy said   So keep it up.

Should it be in-thread or as a new post? I'm legitimately curious. I'm pretty green regarding message boards.

[Fernins]

That's a good question. Not even I know xD But what I do is if it's something that has a continuation, I tend to writting in the same post. If it doesn't, well I post a new one.

[CassidyTheCowgirl]

(11-27-2017, 07:43 PM)Fernins Wrote: That's a good question. Not even I know xD But what I do is if it's something that has a continuation, I tend to writting in the same post. If it doesn't, well I post a new one.

That's as straight shot of an answer as I would've hoped for. Thank you, sir.

[GuyByThePond]

*clasp*
*clasp*
*clasp*

A well written one.
We're not on the "make people bulge" part, but who cares.
Many good things.
Truly.
The hangover feel.
The way you introduce the money/escorting topic.

Liked it.

[CassidyTheCowgirl]

(11-28-2017, 11:02 PM)GuyByThePond Wrote: *clasp*
*clasp*
*clasp*

A well written one.
We're not on the "make people bulge" part, but who cares.
Many good things.
Truly.
The hangover feel.
The way you introduce the money/escorting topic.

Liked it.

I'm really glad you liked it. Slow build up, ya know? Besides, a lot of the description is off my own experience so it's a little personal, but it helps write.

---

Pg. 2:
---------

Carpet flooring, perfect for muffling the sound of my heels on the walk of shame from other hotel patrons.

I shouldn’t be so embarrassed. This was the capital of sex, after all, and I’d wager that more than half of these people would be waking up with someone whose name they don’t even remember.

Still…

The elevator bell rang, just in time, and I nodded at the exiting bellboy pushing a cart of fresh towels right before I took his now vacant place in the lift. The first floor had already been selected by the other man in the elevator; a tall, light-skinned hunk of a man in his church clothes.

He smiled at me, like someone would smile at a stray or a homeless person when you don’t have any change, and I couldn’t help but believe that he knew I’d just gotten fucked for money and that he pitied me.

There it was again. That self-loathing feeling. Creeping through my senses like ecstasy or a bad case of food poisoning. I struggled not to tear up, but the introspection of choices that led me to this lifestyle made swallowing my fit that much harder. I had already turned away, and the fucking elevator seemed to be suspended in place instead of moving.

I sniffled, barely composing myself, taking a deep and long breath of air while staring at the.. mirror.. on the sides of the elevator. And there he was still, trying his best not to look at me. I must’ve been quite the sight, crying at the creak of a friendly smile that probably meant nothing. I looked like shit; tussled hair, bloodshot eyes, wrinkled clothes, and the faint smell of sex and perfume that seemed to follow me everywhere nowadays. I couldn’t have looked more unattractive to this man…

Then he checked out my ass. His gaze lingered, and I imagined that he was going through all the possibilities that could come true if he had me all to himself, at least until the ride stops. When his eyes shot up to mine through the smudges of the mirror, everything I had just thought of became fact, the longing in his expression unmistakable, and I did what came naturally: I seized the opportunity.

I can’t recall actually moving toward him, but I was conscious during the throes of our tongues pressing against each other. His breath was hot and tasted like a burnt cigarette, hands groping my ass as if it'd disappear unless he squeezed and held it. The whiskers on his face scratched at my upper lip but I continued to press him against me in the frenzy of our heated saliva swapping.

I was running on autopilot, instinctual like a bitch in heat. In the short time I knew this man, I longed for him, loved him, hated him, and was disgusted. Most of all, I needed him. Now.

My knees, raw already, felt rough and jagged against the laminated wooden floor of the elevator. I felt like a child unwrapping a present on Christmas morning, except this Santa wasn’t my uncle and this belt.. well, actually, this was still a belt.

His pants dropped, and-

Fuck. That elevator bell. The doors slid open, and I heard a gasp from behind. My impromptu paramour raced to cover himself, work undone as his pants came back up, and I turned to stand, a group of people standing witness to our interrupted romp.

How quickly the mood disappears. Like a switch. All I wanted now was to leave, disappear, hide my face for a year or two, maybe stop drinking so damn much during the week.

I grabbed my purse and cleared my throat, feeling red in the face, shooting the stranger in the elevator a final quick glance before hurrying into the lobby.

[GuyByThePond]

1) For me, you should keep posting parts in the same thread.
That way, if somebody likes it, he suscribes and gets informed when something new is posted (that's what I'm gonna do now  )

2) Another good piece.
A tad more on the "speaking to your loins" part, yet making it slide towards the shame/fun part.
I like how you use sex to speak of something that is not sex.