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Sweaty. Her palms were sweaty and clammy as she wrung them together nervously. She sat on the slatted bench outside the door in the dimly lit walkway, hunched over and wringing her hands, her breathing coming out in sort of stunted, trembled breaths. Her newly shorn hair fell forward from the slant of her face caused by her hunched position, the A-line cut demanding that her fingers come up to brush the section of hair behind her ear once more after each and every one of its slow escapes. Her hair was far too thick, far too wavy to wear it this short. It was a grand pipe dream to think that she could have it in a style with the way her hair rebels against even the simplest imposed forms.
Her pale face would glance up with every noise or shimmering of the lights –Was that him?. Her eyes were wide and red rimmed, not from crying which would be far too romantic, but from the mascara and carefully implemented eye makeup she had drawn on herself in order to live up to the pictures he knew her from, carelessly thinking that maybe, just maybe her contacts wouldn’t behave so badly under the weight of the foreign chemistry this one time.
She hugged her arms around herself now, curling into her legs as they stayed clamped tightly together, her feet going to their toes so that she could push her legs a little higher, getting just that much closer to curling into a little ball.
As the door beside her opened noisily, she sat up straight with a sudden jolt in surprise, her bloodshot eyes going wide as her lips parted with the yip that relayed just how tense she was to the open door and the person standing in it.
Her lips were a pale, a plain contrast to all the effort made upon her eyes. They stood stark and only slightly glossy from some chapstick as they remained parted while she stared openly into the room beside her.
“Have you been here long? I couldn’t hear you knocking over the shower so I thought I should come check..”
Although her eyes stayed locked like a deer in headlights upon his face, they nonetheless drank him in a minute at a time, inch by inch, committing his appearance to memory as they met for the first time.
His hair was a sandy blonde while soaked, making silent promises kartal escort of turning a much bright shade of blonde once it dried. His lips were plump and round and pouted; even his upper lip with its devilish cupid’s bow was juicy in its plumpness. His eyes softly drooped at the outer corners, giving him a sort of bedroom look, a calm look that seemed to say he might always be thinking naughty thoughts about you and the world around him. His goatee looked wet and shiny, an occasional drop of water taking the death defying leap from the height of his chin to fail to the ground below. His shoulders were broad and pale, stretching out to fill the doorway no doubt making the poor frame feel as though it had eaten too much as he filled it. His hand stayed wrapped around the door handle, his arm out stretched to keep it open, he started to tremble in the cold air of the wintery night, no doubt quite a chill when wet and mostly bare, save for the white linen hotel towel wrapped carelessly about his waist.
She stood up slowly, as if her hinges were rusted, marveling for a moment inside her own head as she uncurled to her full height and yet stood shorter than him. She stretched a hand out to touch finger tips to drop of water that would escape his facial hair with the rest, the mindless movement turning to stroking as she petted at his the crinkly hairs for a moment, oddly transfixed on its watery appearance as though she could only focus on one aspect of the stranger at a time.
Her reverie was broken abruptly as he brought his hand up to snatch at her wrist, a contrast to the soft chiding chuckle rumbling from his chest as he used his grip on her wrist to pull her in the door. As he did a sort of whip movement to pull her through without moving from his perch, he then let her go at the height of the arc while he pulled the door shut and turned to face her where she stood facing the opposite wall, turned away from him and slightly baffled. She did a slow turn to face him as the sudden prison of the dimly lit hotel room sank into her awareness. She stood wide eyed and awkward angles, stiff jointed and somewhat comical in her sheer nervousness. He stood with eyelids softly narrowed, lips curled buca escort into a confident grin, leaned back with an air of ease and relaxation with his arms behind him propping his slanted body up on the door as he looked at her.
She reached her hand up to tuck away that errant section of hair as it fell forward again causing his eyes to fall upon the new-do and widen for a moment with appreciation. She dropped her hand away with a sudden force that only confirmed the fact that she had cut it for him and their meeting. Her hands quickly retreated to the hemline of her over sized t-shirt, tugging at it as though that might make it suit her better… or hide her more.
With another grin curving his lips, his eyes shutting for a moment as he seemed to laugh at something funny inside his own head, he pushed himself from the door and began to walk towards her with a slow and easy gait, the linen towel shifting at his legs where the two ends of it met. He stopped a hair’s breadth from her as his arms rose from the sides of his body, her own eyes flicking to them as though they were some great ensnarement. Despite the protest of her terrified eyes his arms brought those wide masculine hands to rest on her shoulders, using only the slightest grip there to pull her forward as he leaned from his height to meet her. She glanced from one of those confining hands in time to look up and meet his lips as they came down upon hers.
Standing in contrast of one lips’ owner being covered head to toe with dark, dingy, and drab clothing that erased any form beneath it, even her hair a dark coloring. While the owner of the other lips stood naked and no line of his form hidden while standing in a bright white linen towel, the stereotype of an overnight hotel, with his sandy light colored hair. But where both sets of lips met in the middle, there seemed to be no great dividing line between them, the clash ended there at soft lips pressed to soft lips.
Her eyes closed as her body moved forward reflexively to press to the body before her, as it only seemed right that the rest of them would mesh together as their lips had. Her lower half curling in as it did habitually in these cases, her thighs marmaris escort pressing to his and angling to be between those masculine legs, but with that movement the towel fell from his hips in protest to being pressed against while it tried so hard to stay grasped together about his waist, as if it said ‘how rude’.
Without a word or effort or thought she pulled her hips away from his to let the towel fall from where it had been held by their bodies. Feeling its weight upon her shoes was enough signal to her hips to press forward again, her jean clad thighs and lap pressing against his now freed member which elicited a moan of acknowledgement and approval from him as the rough material teased the sensitive skin there, the moan dragging itself out from the tightly held lips, only to be met with her lips and try to force its way into them.
Her hands which had lain purposeless at her sides now rose to cup his hips, pulling at those hips with an intangible movement that pressed their bodies just a little bit more tightly together. Satisfied enough to let her own whimpering moan try to invade his lips, she let her hands abandon the task of pulling at his hips in order to trace aimless fingers nails along his sides.
He growled now, a sound of brutal encouragement, to punctuate his hips bucking forward and pulling away, creating a space between them suddenly where his now rigid length stood long and thick. His hands moved from her shoulders to sweep through her arms breaking the paths of her fingers on his sides. His hands moved to work nimble and impatient fingers at the fastenings of her jeans, ripping at them as he continued to growl and make rumbling sounds low in his chest and throat.
He wedged either side of the now opened jeans apart, tearing them down and away from her abdomen. His hands moving fluidly to sides of the waist band of her jeans to grip and tug the pants down, curling his back enough to give his arms more length to pull the jeans to her knees.
The slow paced, almost magical stillness and halted movement of their initial meeting and touches was forgotten in this rushed and hurried moment now. His hands moved to wrap around the curve of her hips using that grip to lift her up just enough to angle his member towards her sex, his knees doing quick work to part her legs. With that… time stilled again… as the head of his cock met with the lips of her sex and with abundantly slow movement began to part those slick, smooth, silken lips to enter her one achingly slow press at a time.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32