His Room

His bedroom is dark with only one lava lamp set off in the corner of the room, shooting shadows off the walls, casting an eerie ocher glow, like the full moon, reflecting off the night sky. His bed is in the middle with soft down pillows, and a black comforter, and matching cotton sheets. He likes to wrap himself up in a ball, rolling his bed covers around him, like a dog that circles around, and, around to finally get comfortable, staking out his place. He prefers to sleep alone, but recently he has felt the need to feel again another body next to his. If only for a night, nothing too serious, his heart is not ready, but his body, his body needs to feel something again.

Shadows take shape within the shadows that dance upon his walls, from the constant glow from the lamp. Luminous enough to allow him to see what needs to be seen in the shadows of the darkness, in his mind, an illusion is better than the actual image. He, too, can be whoever, he needs to be. Like a Polaroid image, taken quickly, blurring the urges of his heart, only his fingertips tell the truth in the dark.

The murmur of another’s breathing awakens him from his restless sleep. He moves his hand to feel the curves of her body, resting it lightly on her hip. She stirs, and moves her body closer to his. He likes the feel of her body against his. The smoothness of her skin, pressing against his hand awakens his desire for her. He breathes in her scent of lemon and lavender, a combination of her perfume and shampoo. He brushes back her long, auburn hair, and kisses her neck softly, wanting to wake her, wanting her to touch him. He feels a comfort he felt had long passed, as he reaches around her and cups her breast. She stirs again, this time turning over on her side to meet his lips.

Desire is a moment, a flicker of the unsayable when he feels her reach out for him. She draws circles around his chest with her fingertips, lightly at first, and then she gives his nipples a pinch, and then her soft husky laugh. It was her laugh that first attracted him to her. She was across the room, talking somewhat loudly, and then he heard her laugh and he had to turn his head, to catch her carefree expression, laughing at a joke, but later, he would find out that she sometimes just laughs at herself. And now within the darkness of his room, he catches her laugh upon his lips, bringing her closer to him, laughing with her. “You like it when I pinch them,” she playfully says, moving her hands down his back, and giving his butt a squeeze. He rolls on top of her, nipping at her lower lip.

“You know I do,” he says, giving hers a rough squeeze.

‘The first time I met you I gave them a squeeze under your shirt,” she whispers, but again her voice holds something more there for him that he cannot really touch, a liquid flicker, taking shape within the dim light of his room, making him feel her desire, and his need. He knows his need for her at this very moment is primal, something that resides deep with in his make-up. She is beautiful to him with her hair falling, softly along her face, masking her, hiding her face, only showing the subtle outline of her knowing expression. Her sex is all he wants from her, nothing more, just her raw sexuality, and the transcendent pleasure that comes from two bodies joining for a night, taking and giving all because of a need, a quick unexplainable physical attraction on both their parts; and tomorrow, or the week after, the attraction might fade, might be forgotten, might never be mentioned again. The aesthetic is always passing, this he knows, but still he presses his body closer to hers. She moves her hand down to feel his hardness for her.

‘And that’s when I knew,” he says, moving her legs apart with his knee.

“Knew what?” she asks, circling her legs around him.

He says nothing but teases at her by rubbing his cock up and down her folds before sliding in. He likes to tease her, waiting to see what sort of response he will get. She pulls at the back of his hair, hard, and then with her other hand pinches at his left nipple. She likes the diagonal grab she has on him. She also enjoys the teasing that he is doing with his cock, playing with her, making her anticipate the actual thrust.

Meet Kayden: Clip 2

“Fuck me, hard,” she whispers. “I need to feel all of you inside of me.” He thrusts hard at her, making her groan out, making her whimper, as she grabs at his ass, and bits at his neck. She is illuminated by the lamps dim light, ghost-like, but full of life, for this moment, that he is atop her. He feels her need, and pushes her up against his backboard, pinning her arms behind her head. He likes the feel of her long lean body against his, rubbing up against her, sucking at her breasts, as he pushes deep inside of her. He feels her pussy walls clinch down on his cock, making him want to come, but he holds himself back, slowing his thrusts, grabbing at her hair. “You like it when I am deep inside of you,” he says, taking both her legs, and steadying them on his shoulders, a deeper feel, he is now completely in control. He needs to feel the control. He likes that she cannot move from his grip.

A brief struggle, and now he takes her from behind, teasing her with the head of his cock, and then slamming into her, letting his balls hit hard at her pussy. He pushes her down at the back of her neck, so she has to push her ass to him, taking it hard, moaning with pleasure from feeling him so deep inside of her.

“You like that don’t you,” he says slapping her ass sharp, and than again, in motion with thrusting deeper, grunting, as she feels her core, he leans in more with his body, and leans down to kiss her. She grabs him with her right arm to steady herself; she wants to feel his tongue in her mouth as he fucks her hard from behind. She sucks at his lower lip, and laughs, and grabs around with her hand, and pulls hard at his hair.

She knows this is only for a night, as their bodies play out the natural desire they both feel for a moment, a single moment in a crowded bar, when two friends meet, and share a drink, and then decide they need something more, if only for a night, nothing more, only waiting for that special one, but for now, two bodies can merge into one within the dim light of his room. She knows when they have their chance encounters he will never call the next day or text. He never has asked her on a date.

It’s not supposed to be more than a playful romp. He is not the type to have more than a clandestine encounter with someone he knows is safe. She is safe for him because she does not ask questions. She does not ask for anything more than what is played out in his bed. He knows her, but doesn’t want to really know her. He doesn’t want to be more than what he is now for her.

She likes how he is rough, and then soft, and then breathes heavily on the back of her neck, sending a ripple of pleasure through her whole body, like water dripping slowly off the edge of cliff, she feels the fall, she feels the sweet delicate sensation hit her clit, and when her orgasm comes to a head she laughs, a soft whisper, and buckles under him, and he catches her, and guides her back to him. He moans, moving off her, and flipping her on her back, lifting him to her. She wraps her legs around him, her chest pressing deep on to his, as she feels him explode inside her.

His room is dark, and mysterious like him, he will only let her see him, disguised by the blackness of his room. He pulls her close again, wrapping his legs around her, pulling her to his chest. She kisses him lightly, and then with a sense of urgency, because she knows she will only have him for tonight. Tomorrow, they will be strangers again. He will remember her laugh when he falls asleep alone the next night, curling himself within his bed sheets, feeling something that ignited his desire for the flesh of another, if only for a night, if only for an after glow to something that he hides so well in the darkness of his room.