The Portobello was a charming Notting Hill hotel with charming interiors and an accurate Victorian style. Many of the ‘rich and famous’ spent time there thus the staff know to turn a blind eye to the comings and goings of their guests, as well who their guests come and go with. Plus, since some winning Univision band stayed there, all the rooms now had sound reduction equipment. I could make this woman squeal at the top of her lungs and even the pigeons on the window sill wouldn’t hear her.
Arriving at the luxurious and spacious room, I realized that I hadn’t felt so awkward or silly since I was in college when I thought I had to take a girl out and spend globs of money on her to get a snog. I learned quickly that sufficient alcohol would do the same thing. Since that time, I hadn’t had any problems, except for those slappers who got ideas afterwards and they were easily pawned off on friends or acquaintances. Yeah, I was more of a cad than Michael Caine in Alfie (sorry, Jude Law’s 2004 version, in comparison, was way too tame). But now, I watched Angus and Victoria freely undress in what served as the living room, being careful to lay their expensive clothing neatly on a nearby chair. Only I, the presumptive piece of meat, remained fully dressed.
“Mate,” Angus said jovially, “you’re on. I can hardly get the sense of your rumpy-pumpy with you standing there holding the floor in place.”
“I think I told you before, the difference between sex with men and that between males and females is quite minuscule.”
He walked into the bedroom and tossed back, “Prove it.” Victoria followed right behind him, with those signature bouncy moves that seemed now to have even more impact. “There’s a full bar over there. Make us some of your specials, eh?” he commanded.
Okay, was I the servant too? I walked over to a bar better stocked than the one we have at Churton Place – full with only top shelve alcohol, the names of which I was surprisingly unfamiliar. Full size bottles lined up perfectly on aged maple shelving that matched the rest of the decor. All the fixings were there as well with a few stocked behind a small glass door refrigerator built into the wall. I was making two glasses of his favorite martini recipe. I learned it from a Zen master when I was traveling through Japan years before while learning various martial arts and getting numerous illegal tattoos – I considered both a form of harm reduction in response to urges toward self-mutilation. I poured the drink ingredients into the cocktail shaker and shook the concoction with irritation, not caring if it was my best work. I don’t drink – having learned a while back that addiction and childhood abuse make bad bed fellows - so what the fuck did I care how it tasted? I was pissed and considered stomping into the next room and demanding that this game was ended, calling my safe word, and reminding Angus that my slave contract expressively stated that any elements of humiliation were not done in public. But, as I carried the finished product closer to the bedroom, I sensed his thoughts – Angus had reasoned to rid my collywobbles by pissing me off. And it had worked.
I stopped shortly before the doorway, close enough to see them without them seeing me. Although naked, the two of them chatted comfortably, like a couple of friends at an outdoor restaurant on a nudist beach. My handsome man, tattooed extensively too but not as densely as I, sat in a tall dark brown cushioned chair that wouldn’t be misplaced in someone’s late 19th Century library. He was telling an amusing story about his last visit with the Israeli Prime Minister. Victoria was sitting on the edge of the maroon draped canopy bed, leaning against one of the poles, ready to laugh at my husband’s upcoming punchline. I finally took in those curves and skin tone of hers, realizing that Angus had chosen well – she was stunning and my dick wanted me to seduce her.
“Here you go,” I said applying a deepened tone to my voice while handing them both their drinks. I turned to her first and added, “You’ll want to sip as the effects, I am told, accumulate in the background as the tastiness increases.”
“You’re not having one?” she asked.
“No,” I said handing Angus his taller glass, “I like both of my heads to be clear at moments like these.” I dropped a few condoms on the side table then looked up at the lighting adjustment opportunities while I started unbuttoning my shirt. I could feel Angus take in a breath.
“What’s that?” She was obviously noticing my Allwedd Derw, a Druidic symbol of an oak key, a raised brand on my back that, since puberty, lights in different colors in response to my emotions. Usually when I anticipated casual encounters, I didn’t take my shirt off to avoid awkward explanations. However, I was certain her home office had briefed her extensively about us and that her question was a simple ruse. “The sparks are harmless. Worry only if it turns black.”
I started looking at the lighting in the room again and began to adjust the atmosphere. I opened the floor length curtains to let the moonlight in and turned off the overhead lights. I found a lamp behind Angus’s chair and put a large, decorative white dolly over its stain glass shade. When I came around I stopped and gave him a kiss at his hairline and briefly ran my fingers through a lock that had defiantly fallen from his carefully fitted man bun. He considered me with curiosity but I gave him no heed. Instead, I walked over to the nightstand closest to where she was seated, turned on the lamp there and angled the cloth shade toward the wall. I looked at Victoria directly with what must have been a slightly fierce continence for she immediately sat back. I grinned, realizing that I’d finally cleaved onto an earlier me – the disinterested one, the one that made everything into some joke or game, the one Angus insisted I get rid of unless it was for the sake of a mission. I guess this situation was one of the latter. I took out my mobile and attached it to the radio speakers provided as a hotel amenity. I adjusted the volume so that my playlist – Frank, Ella, Coltrane, and the like – whispered sweet promises into the air like a flickering scented candle. Angus wasn’t the only one who could be planful.
I removed the belt from my pants, then undid the top button and got on the bed, crawling over Victoria to her left side, letting my breath caress her face as I moved by. “I want him to see what I do to you, how I lift you off this bed.” Goosebumps formed on her chest.
She gave me a sidelong glance. “Mr. Mac Innes-Reese, I’m hardly some quivering virgin,” she said to hide her excitement.
“No quivering?” I drew small, slow circles on her left knee with the tip of my fingers as I settled next to her against the headboard. She pulled her left leg up in playful haughtiness while I watched the goosebumps travel there. “Not even a little?” I kissed her shoulder and she giggled softly in reaction to my lips. I let my hand fall a bit inside the thigh and she quickly closed her legs as if to push me away. “Really?” I said while I firmly pulled the legs apart again. “If you’re not a virgin, then don’t act like one.” That got a slight exhale.
Just like poker players, everyone has a tell. Women like to challenge you to find theirs while most men offer theirs upfront as they are rather impatient to get to the point of it all – I am still uncertain if the latter is an unfortunate side effect of heterosexism or a hormonal prerogative. Either way, I prefer fucking women only because sex with them tends to require at least some finesse and skill, that is if you are there for a reason other than self-stimulation. And my pleasure has always come first and foremost from the pleasing of others. I have also found that some women get off from being teased, while others like the game forced on them. And some women want to be petted, for you to stroke and tugged at their feline side. Victoria seemed to be from the latter camp and her reactions to my light touches told me that I had to start from the bottom and work my way up, from the outside inwards. “Close your eyes,” I said in a husky tone before continuing, “and stop thinking.” She complied but I waited a moment more before coming closer and returning my fingers to her knees, occasionally dropping down around her calves. I watched her face closely, noticing the subtle shifts in her expression, changes in her breathing, and feeling into her mind. She only let me in a little and closed a few doors when she realized I had seen she too had an inner child to protect. That was fine. For what I was doing, I didn’t need to delve into all her memories, just the secrets to what made her body responsive. When she started drifting into a dreamlike state and her shoulders dropped completely, I moved my hand up, drawing the sensations from the side to the top of her thigh. She was very relaxed now so I started kissing her neck, taking in the subtle scent of her perfume and tasting the light bit of sweat that had formed just below her ear.
I did this for awhile until she started moving rhythmically against my hand, urging it to move up further. But instead, I removed my hand completely and pressed my still clothed but very hard cock against her thigh, adding a small groan against her neck for good measure. She started to turn around, likely to kiss me, but I put my hand on her soft belly and held her in place. Ah, and it was lovely, warm and round like a woman’s should be – those skinny bitches may look good on the catwalk or in somebody’s swimsuit commercial but give me curvatons. Mmm, maybe Angus is right and I do miss this – men are all straight lines and angles. Victoria must have noted my increasing amorousness because she tried to turn her head to kiss me again. This time, I slipped down in the bed and caught her left nipple in my mouth. I held it there until her breathing steadied again then started alternating between sucking and grazing my teeth against the harden nub. If Angus wasn’t pounding his meat already, he was soon about to.
I have a rule – when I sex up a lady, she has to cum at least three times, three different ways – it only seems polite as That-Which-Has-No-Name afforded them the opportunity for more orgasms than men and I’ve always thought to make up for the pain of putting up with us. Plus, I’m a giver like that. I left the nipple and sat up a bit so I could see her face and judge if she was ready for round one. Her eyes were half closed, her mouth half open with her tongue at the tip of her bottom lip. So I kissed her, lightly at first but she sat forward asking for more. We kissed opened mouth for a few moments before I dipped some of my finger inside her. She moaned a little when I scooped out some of the thick juices and began to slowly rub just underneath her clit. It took a while but I eventually found a speed she liked. I alternated between sucking then licking her bottom lip and soon she was quietly pleading for me not to stop and I felt her thighs quaking against my wrist. Gosh I love when they beg!
I didn’t let her swim in a post orgasmic state for too long though – you do that and they either fall asleep on you or get all uppity to hide their embarrassment about being so wanton. I sat up abruptly then moved down to her feet. She gave me a quizzical look and I smiled devilishly at her. “You didn’t think I was done, did you?” I grabbed her ankles and pulled her from against the headboard and flat on her back.
“Hrumph!” she exclaimed. “What are you . . . ?”
By the time she got mid-sentence, I’d moved my face up to her dripping snatch and realized she dyed the hair on her head. “So nice of you not to shave but one shouldn’t be embarrassed by such a nice shade of red.”
She lifted her head and replied, “Teasing from childhood.”
“I can’t imagine many teased you and were left standing for long!” I positioned myself on my stomach, my arms beneath her thighs and hands gripping her butt. I shouldn’t have been surprised that those lovely curves and softness hid sets of tight muscles and likely an enormous amount of physical strength. “Now if you will excuse me, I have a mission to finish. I must make muscle turn to jelly.” I sank my mouth atop her mound, shaking my face a bit to burrow more closely against her lips. I licked inside a bit and was rewarded with a slight wiggle from her ass cheeks. I drew in a breath and took in a strange combination of what had to be heather and lilac. Yet, when I tasted her juices I could have sworn I was at some outdoor café in Jerusalem’s old city. Her hips shifted as if she was trying to escape my mouth, so I tightened my grip. Her clit was betraying her by poking out from its hood. Clits are greedy little dicks with foreskins that need a slow then speedy attention – lick a man’s head right, he’ll give you his fortune; kiss a woman’s pussy right and she’ll give you her soul. But, I wasn’t really after all that. I just wanted her to give my husband a show. And that she did – screaming and writhing those thighs around so hard she nearly dislocated my shoulders. I thought of going for another round after her shaking calmed down but was concerned that I’d need a medic afterwards.
I also considered diving in again because suddenly the thought of having to fuck her made me shrink to a rather tepid erection. Suddenly, I wouldn’t been able to fuck an over worked Vegas street whore. So, under the guise of giving her a moment, I kissed her thighs. Meanwhile, I reached underneath myself, pushed my pants down, and pulled out my cock. I rubbed myself like someone convincing a disinterested puppy to play catch. After a few moments, it worked well enough where I reckoned I would at least be able to get the condom on. “Maybe once I’d fucking her, things will fall into order”, I kept telling myself. I sat up on my knees and grabbed the rubber from the nightstand. I was trying not to understand why a man, such as myself, who just visited the other side of 30 would need Viagra. Typically, at this point, I would be holding things together to get inside in time. Instead my penis was wondering why I was bothering. I found myself wondering why it was disinterested in something that just moments ago was looking so luscious. Before things became embarrassingly impossible, I proceeded to lift her hips high and put a pillow underneath her butt.
It was too bad, considering my cock’s lack of enthusiasm, that there was no real chance for anal ‘cause everything was looking warm and wet down there. Luckily her cunt was so open and inviting she did not seem to notice my whimpering puppy. I started moving what I had in and out slowly, thinking that would change things. But it was at about thrust #12 that I started considering a cover story – maybe I could say I had a flashback? Just then, something burning touched my ass.
It was Angus. “I said, I have no intention of touching her. You, however, are another story entirely.” He slipped a heavily greased up and commanding pointer finger fully in my ass. He moved in closer to me and used his other hand to rub my ass cheek. He whispered to me in Welsh, “What was it you said once? ‘The dick doesn’t lie’? I guess you were correct. But, I’m not going to let your reputation be tarnished by something as silly as your loyalty to me.” He took in a sharp breath then licked the back of my neck. “Now, I suggest you lean far into her ‘cause I’m, as they say, ‘coming up the rear’.”
I did what I was told and was rewarded with his wonderful cock sliding directly up my ass. Victoria let out a yelp, undoubtedly connected to my cock’s sudden expansive happiness, but she likely either didn’t notice or care initially about its cause. Within seconds my brand was sending sparks over our heads. Normally, I would have thought through the implications and complications surrounding this little escapade – I’m a philosopher after all – what does this mean? Does this change things? How will this . . . . ? But right now, I had a shift in my soul and what was initially simple mechanics had become something much more powerful.
Angus’s moderate but deliberate rhythm shifted which changed mine. Victoria was back to pleading, breathing rapidly, eyes closed tight as she dropped into the feeling. Angus kept himself deep inside of me and started that grinding motion I adore, which meant he was about to cum. Then he leaned toward my ear again and repeatedly whispered in Hebrew, “Beloved, you are made holy to me, for I love you as my soul.” His sperm was dripping down my balls before I realized she had orgasmed as well, my duty now complete.
After sleeping for a few hours, Angus and I woke up to find our third party gone. I told Angus that I’d earlier noted that there was no luggage or any semblances of someone previously occupying the room. We did find a note on the nightstand however, that said “A pleasure to have been with both of you tonight. One can only hope to have such a relationship with another human-being as you two obviously share. Enjoy the room until the morning.”
“Do you think Victoria is her real name?” Angus asked sitting up in the bed.
I shook my head and turned on the light on the other nightstand to survey the room. “Does it matter? It’s not like you have her number.”
Angus got up to walk to his pants to pull out his mobile and dial then turned on the speaker so I could hear the automated voice say ‘The number you have reached has been temporarily disconnected.’ “I guess I don’t,” he shrugged. He returned and dropped back on the bed. He looked forlorn. “I guess I’m feeling stupid.”
“Why?” I asked.
“You know.”
“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”
He sighed heavily. “It isn’t about the sex.”
“Oi!”
“Alright. I thought you’d be able to . . .”
“Yeah, well, that WAS about to be embarrassing. You rescued me and I thank you.”
“But that’s it, isn’t it!? It’s me. None of that, none of that fucking was real. At least it didn’t look real, not until I came up to you.” He moved closer but still looked off into blank space, still forming his thoughts. “You’re right, it isn’t about gender. It’s just me, you just love me. I am enough for you.”
“Aren’t I enough for you?”
He looked at me as if I had three heads. “Are you crazy? Of course you are! Don’t be daft. This isn’t about how I feel.” He took my hand, rubbed the fingers and played with my wedding ring. “If I was honest, really honest Deetz, you had me at our first kiss. It was shocking, exciting, and terribly real. It was the first time I’d had a feeling of love toward anyone except my parents. Up until then, I thought I’d just jet set around until my dick got tired. Screwing wasn’t much more than masturbation and I thought that was all I’d ever get, all that my life would ever be. With you, I have contentment, I’m settled.” He finally got the courage to look up at me. “You’d been the adventurer, the wanderer. I reckoned eventually I wouldn’t be enough.”
“Internalized biphobia.”
“What?”
“It’s called internalized biphobia.”
“Huh?”
I smiled. My husband was a great linguist, a brilliant venture capitalist, powerfully sexy and ridiculously kind but a rocket scientist he wasn’t. “Nevermind.” I lifted his hand and kissed the palm. “Your aunt said it’s destiny created by 17th Century druids, practicing their faith underground, hiding from church authorities. Why they did it we may never know but they united the lords of Glamorgan to their valets for all eternity. Some of us however, well, took loyalty all the way to the bedroom.”
“Do you believe all that?”
“Do you believe my clairsentience, that I have a brand on my back that lights up like Chanukiah when you fuck me?”
“Point taken.”
“What I mean is stop fretting about the origins, the foundation of this relationship and let’s just live it.” I turn fully toward him and cupped his face. “We can adventure together.” I kissed his nose then sat back, considering whether to go back to sleep or look around the bar for some overpriced snack food.
“You didn’t cum, did you?”
I looked down at my cock, laying quietly to one side, its one eye opened and looking at Angus. “Does it matter?”
Angus put his hand flat against my stomach and held it there. The warmth from his palm in combination with his very dirty thoughts, hardened me immediately. “I haven’t done this in a while. Let’s see if he responds without you being tied up,” Angus said with a devilish tone.
It wasn’t long before I was laying a generous trail along my lower and upper thigh and shivering violently, with him all the while whispering repeatedly, “You are my beloved and my beloved is mine”.
He smiled then hugged me. And I wondered if we would ever see Ms. Radcliff again.
- From “The Musings of Deetz Mac Innes, 10/22/2016
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