I know you’ll be back soon, but I don’t want to wait. I just get comfortable on our bed and slip off my grey sweatpants. I don’t want to bother you after you’ve just finished with some errands, so I’ll take this time to myself. I open up the nightstand drawer and retrieve the sleeve you bought for me because you wanted me to enjoy myself. The lube is already out and ready. But I’m already letting my mind take me to the memories that get me aroused every time.
Marie smiled and hummed in reaction, “It’s one of my favorites. Every time I listen to it, I imagine myself in a high-class bourbon lounge. Cigars, dark leather landry chairs, handsome gentlemen in fine suits, and a polished wooden dance floor where a woman in a beautiful red dress sings with a large band behind her.”
The thrum of the crowd outside augmented the roar of voices from the television. Liam looked out the large hotel window at the massive gathering out on the streets, part of him wishing he was down there with the rest of them, awaiting the countdown until the new year. Every year, this was the biggest party in the downtown area. This time, however, he had planned his own party, with a guest list so exclusive, only two names were on the list: himself, and his girlfriend, Camilla.
The day had wound down and come to an end. For Bree, the day had been filled with serving customers, listening to complaints from people far more angry about the quality of the food they received than they probably should have been, and busy alleys at the grocery store. Being able to come home and relax had given her some much-needed respite, and a good meal did much to lift her spirits. Afterward, she tied up her blonde hair and enjoyed a hot shower and some evening television in some choice comfy clothes.
Standing in front of the tall figure leering over her, the feeling of helplessness was already beginning to set in. For today’s game, she decided on a simple white and brown dress to accompany the red cloak that draped over it. Whereas the man before her was bare-chested, donning only a pair of running shorts and a specially-made wolf mask. His face was only visible from within the maw.
“Do you understand the rules, Red?” he asked her, arms crossed over his chest.
She could barely bring her head to meet his gaze when she replied, “Yes, Sir.”
A tell-tale sound of a plastic card quickly inserted and removed from an electronic door lock heralded the imminent opening of the motel door. Not that there was anyone there to hear the announcement. The door swung open with a chipper woman in a cheap uniform as she strode in first, with her associate pulling a small cart inside the drab room. The motel wasn’t particularly impressive. A lax smoking policy meant yellowing walls and a stale odor that never seemed to leave, along with generic artwork bolted to the wall that one might guess was purchased from a yard sale. It wasn’t as though this motel was popular, or made a ton of money, but it was cheap.
Why is there no air conditioning in here? You would think a small trailer in Florida would at least have an A/C unit come standard with the rent, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t. I suppose when you’re a landlord renting units to students and other low-income tenants, amenities aren’t exactly a concern of yours. Worse off, it was in the dead of summer when the humidity is at its worst and your skin never feels completely dry. Even a standing fan doesn’t make much of a difference.
Recently, I decided to try my hand at recording a reading of one of my stories. That recording was featured on a recent podcast called Aural Sex with Max Lagos. I really enjoyed creating it, and wanted to share it with you here as well. Though it did take a long time to finish; so if I do this again, it will probably be with shorter stories. Enjoy, and check out the full story below if you would like to read along.
I saw him there again, through the large bedroom window of his home. He often left the blinds open. Probably thinking the tall fence in his backyard would keep prying eyes out of his second-story bedroom. But it doesn’t hide you from the second-story bedroom of the house behind your own. Not that I was intentionally spying on him, mind you.