Beige

From a nondescript beige armchair, I watched you and I thought you looked lonely. Lit by the gloom of a bedside lamp, you lay with your back propped against a padded headboard. Shoes and socks off, jeans unbuttoned, zip undone enough for you to be stroking your hard cock with your strong hand.

“You know this is what you want” you say slowly, with a heavy breath.

I shook my head - a lie: of course it is all I wanted, all I have ever wanted. I was desperate, so fucking desperate, to disperse with my knickers, climb onto the bed and sink down onto your cock. But that cannot happen, not again; we are grownups now. I wouldn’t allow myself. Good god, why did I even agree to this meeting, why?

“Are you sure?” your hand made slick sounds as it moved over your welcoming erection.

The room smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke and febreeze, it was uninspiring beige. The window opened only 3 inches, and it was secured with a bolt. This perhaps, to insure that those easily offended by the haggard beige woodchip and chintz upholstery would not take the easy option and jump, but instead spend the night curled up on a hard and unwelcoming bed, under blankets which had a vague fragrance of the adulterers from the night before. I could not breathe.

The hostile light poured in from a lamppost outside, making me ever more conscious of the time, our time. As the sky became darker, the bulb grew stronger. It never used to be like this, did it, when we were kids? Time stood still for us; it enjoyed playing with us, making us free and happy. Time fooled with the sunshine, and danced on our skin. Time was never our enemy; it always took our side. What happened - what went wrong? Now our old friend Time passes quicker than the memories of its friendship.

Outside I could hear some drunken lads stumbling back to their room, again making me realize how ridiculous the whole situation was.
I then looked at you again, your familiar gaze, that smile – and somehow, with that split second of magic, the one I have always loved your for, you made me dismiss the whole bloody lot; every last little thing - every distraction, every excuse, Christ, the guilt! – Time and noise, the intrusive light, and the beige, the fucking beige, it all disappeared into a soft dreamy haze. I wondered if this was how last night’s adulterers felt, if I was sapping up remnants of their over spilled energy?

So now it was just us, only us, me and you. You’re hard, wet, cock and my lifetime of memories, of those magical times when we explored each other’s bodies, and made unspoken discoveries that will haunt me forever.
I have kissed every part of you - I remember each kiss like it is a moment away from me; I can still feel your hardness and still taste you on my lips.

I started to feel myself get wet, my knickers felt sodden. Finally, I am home.

My clit was throbbing in time with each beat of my heart - which by now I felt in my throat. Each hard pulse banging inside my head, I couldn’t bear to drop a single beat. I could feel myself opening and I am reminded of the precious moments where we innocently poured at one another. I felt safe.

You stopped, fingers cupping the engorged head of your cock, your thumb brushing the tip. “I thought maybe you’d change your mind. You know, when you got here…once we actually met.”

I had worried about the same thing.

The last time we made love I was college age. As a last goodbye when you left for university I played that game with you. I prayed that you would remember it. "Of course I do, Pumpkin" you giggled quietly. You had a wild look in your eyes.

I would let you come into the bathroom and watch me; sometimes I would let you dry me with soft tissue. You would always steal the opportunity to explore me with your fingers, and sometimes your mouth. I didn’t mind.

Then we grew up.

We both slept about.

I went with nice men, rough men and tall men, fat men, mean men and old men, foreign men, young men – fuck, even too young men. My life a hunt, a pursuit to find someone, anyone that would distract me from you, someone I could feel affection for, someone that would make me cum without imagining your beautiful and familiar face, someone who would love me. Alas, I found no one.

So there in the purgatory of a seedy hotel room, you are - waiting for me, just me, only me - your precious little step sister. And it felt so damned right.