The Company Ink, Part III-Just One Night

The Company Ink, Part I

The Company Ink, Part II

When the cab pulls up at his place, he is waiting outside. In the pitch dark, I can only make out his silhouette. The howling wind blows my dress and his shaggy, hipster hair as I walk towards him.

I close the space between us and grab his shirt, pulling his mouth to mine. His lips are soft–so impossibly soft. Our hands roam all over each others’ bodies, as we fumble our way through the door and down the stairwell.

I drop my bag. He pushes me against the wall. My hands under his lumberjack flannel shirt, his in the space between my short green dress and my thigh high boots.

“Do you want a smoke?” He asks. “Because otherwise the dress is coming off.”

I need a minute. “Yes,” I say. “Smoke.”

We go outside. We smoke. I have no idea what we talk about. Our lips find each other again and he pulls me back into the apartment, then begins kissing my neck from behind.

“I wish I could date you,” he murmurs into the space between my shoulders.

“Why can’t you?,” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Because I would want you all to myself. That’s why.” The tenderness and passion in his voice floods all my senses.

He flips me around and I fall back on the bed. We pull each others’ clothes off and he slowly kisses my body, and then he’s inside me.

I gasp. “Oh god.”

He moves in me until I come over and over.

“Get on your back,” I growl. He complies.

I climb on top and ride him. “You feel really good,” he moans. I moan back.

When we’re done, we lay together, kissing passionately, running our hands up and down each others’ bodies.

“Can you believe we did this?” I laugh.

“Yep,” he answers with a smile.

He softly asks me why I’m not single. I softly ask him why he’s not poly. Then our mouths are together again, getting as much of each other as we possibly can in this one night.

***

“I hate that I want you again already,” he admits. He kisses my neck, as I run my hands over his body, moaning. He enters me, this time alternating between pushing into me with his cock, and licking me to orgasm. I scream, grabbing his hair with my hands, digging my nails into his back, until I am spent.

And then we talk. Office gossip. The kinkiest thing we ever did. When we got our tattoos and why. The most fucked up thing we’ve ever done in heartbreak. Whether or not we believe in forever. What happens after we die. The moment we each realized we wanted each other, and the moment we each realized we wanted each other for more than sex.

“This is the most interesting post-sex conversation I’ve ever had,” he admits.

“What do you normally talk about?”

“It’s usually ‘I see this going somewhere…'”

“Ah,” I replied.

“Can we agree, no feelings?” he asks me.

“Define feelings…”I press.

“Ownership.”

I agree. Ownership, I do not need.

We smoke another cigarette, talking the whole time, and then take turns going down on each other. After another round of viciously delicious orgasms, I fall back against the pillows, panting.

“Let’s get breakfast,” I say. It is 2:30 in the morning.

***

We get in his car, and go for breakfast. We talk about what it would be like to keep seeing each other. What would happen if this one night turned into a full-blown affair. What would happen if we got caught.

Pancakes and bacon, and then back to his place to fuck and talk some more. Every time I pull on my panties to go to sleep, he asks why I am wearing underwear, and tosses them back across the room.

I start to giggle. “Well, if you can’t laugh during sex, you’re doing it wrong,” he says. And then his head is between my legs. We are insatiable.

***

So much of it is a blur of touch and hands and mouths and grabbing and bucking and kissing and petting. So much of it, except, this one moment:

Our heads in a cloud of blankets. Faces inches apart. His hands on my skin. Mine hands on his. Our eyes locked, hazy from exhaustion and wanting. His auburn hair mussed. Both of us floating. Not saying things we shouldn’t be saying, but definitely feeling things we shouldn’t be feeling.

If there is one moment from that night that I will take with me wherever I go, it will be that.

Around 4 AM, he tells me I must sleep. I’m in a meeting the whole next day. I tell him not to boss me. He tells me he is being a good friend. We spoon, and crash, pressed against each other.

***

My phone’s alarm blares at 6 AM. I rip it out of the wall. We both laugh, looking at each other in amazement.

“Good morning, ” he says. He uses my name.

“Good morning,” I say, using his.

We are kissing and then we are fucking. We are both wide awake.

We smoke, then make love again.

“What’s your weak spot?” he asks.

I smirk in response.

“I will kiss every inch of your body until I find it.”

I raise my eyebrows. Challenge accepted.

He starts at my hips. He kisses my belly. When he pulls a nipple into his mouth, I moan instantly. I moan again when he gets to my neck, and then our mouths are together and I flip over so he can enter me from behind.

***

He dresses and goes to the kitchen to get us something to drink. I follow , sliding up behind him, pulling open his shirt, pulling off his pants, until he is naked. I run my hands up and down his shaft until he turns and I kneel, taking him into my mouth.

He groans, and I stay there for a few moments, on the kitchen floor. “Back to bed,” he says, lifting me to my feet, carrying and tossing me onto the mattress. His head is between my legs again. I am so sore I can barely stand the contact but our time is almost over. I want as much as I can get.

I come.

He says he is going to shower, and then take me to my meeting. I wrap my arms tighter around him.

“You can’t pin me,” he laughs, so I wrap my leg around him too. He slowly kisses my neck. Runs his lips over my collarbone and towards my mouth. He turns me onto my back, gets on top of me, and fucks me into ecstasy one last time.

Then he chuckles, and walks towards the bathroom.

“It was totally worth it,” I laugh back. “I don’t even care.”

***

In the car, we are quiet. I pull a cigarette from his pack. “Do you want one?” I ask, and he says “Yeah.”

I put his to my lips and light it, handing it to him first, before I draw on my own.

“And they say romance is dead,” he says.


6 Comments on “The Company Ink, Part III-Just One Night”

  1. masterandbabydoll says:

    How do you recover from that?

    • I’m honestly not sure yet. I am holding onto the night we had–how precious it was, and the fact that it is seared into my memory. We may act like we’re just friends now, and that may be okay, but I know what’s boiling under the surface. Even if we never think about it, even if we never talk about it, it will always be there, linking us forever.

      • masterandbabydoll says:

        Lock it away into a chamber of your heart. You’re right, you will always have that one night. Question is….was it better to have that one night and never again or never have that night at all and not know what you’ll be missing?

  2. Right now I’ll say, I’m glad I had him, even just once. Every once in awhile it hits me that we’ll never have more, and it feels intensely sad, but then again, I felt just as sad about it before we ever hooked up. At least now I can look back on it and smile–which I do. Sooner or later, absolutely everything is just a memory.

  3. […] then I found out that months and months ago, there was a rumour going around at work, that Boss Man and I were having an […]

  4. […] We are falling so hard. It is intoxicating and devastating. It’s a gigantic, impossible bruise of a love. It is never going to end in anything but heartbreak. There is literally no rhyme or reason to it–I want to ask “Why?” but there’s no point. […]


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