The Thrill Is Gone

Lust clouded her eyes as she watched the fiery haired youth inch closer to the bed upon which she sat. Her eyes devoured his appearance, taking in his boyish face that was lightly decorated with stubble, giving him a more rugged appearance than he would have otherwise had. He was attractive, of that much she was sure, but he was by no means the most handsome man to ever cross her path. There had been others, many whom embodied what she believed to be the perfect looking man, but none of those had lit the fire within her as strongly as he currently did.

That burning lust raged through her petite frame so strongly, that she swore she was going mad. The wait, short as it would be, was agonizing. Her loins ached for him. Her breasts demanded his lips, her hips his arms and her warmth, his being. All that passion, all that unadulterated desire led to her removing her own blouse and hitching up her own skirt. She was ready for him.

Her readiness didn’t go unnoticed by him. He could see the visible effect he was having on her and he couldn’t help but smirk inwardly as she squirmed under his gaze. She was a beauty, much like all the others he took to bed. Was he a shallow man? Some would say so. He was never seen without a blonde that other men would covet and the young woman sitting before him was no exception. She was an incredibly sexy creature that captured his attention at the club and now he was in her home, ready to make her his own.

When he reached her, he stretched out his hand to caress the side of her face. That action was not intended to be sexual. It was meant to be a tender caress that would demonstrate his desire to be an attentive lover throughout their encounter, but she made it into something much more primitive than that. She parted her full lips and engulfed his thumb. Her tongue flickered over it, massaging it in a manner that let him know that that was the same treatment his throbbing member would soon receive.

Her eyes were glued to his, watching intently as he tilted his head backwards and let out a sling of profanity. His cursing sent a shudder through her body and encouraged her to be bolder. She had no problem being bolder and her hands soon found themselves on his slacks. They moved closer to the smooth, black button on the middle that kept his lower body clothed. The button was no match for her, it was easily undone and she then tugged the slacks and boxers downwards so as to release his member from its treacherous prison.

The moment his clothes formed a pile on the ground, she left her place on the bed and knelt before him. Her hands caressed his firm abdomen as she placed kisses along his pelvic region, her lips brushing against the base of his hardened erection. The lips didn’t remain closed much longer. Her tongue darted out and in one slow movement, trailed up his erection, until reaching the tip that was beginning to glisten with his juices.

Her tongue swirled around his tip as her right hand began to stroke him, causing him to buck his hips towards her in surprise. Once she felt ready, she took him in her mouth and proceeded to bob her head back and forth, taking as much of him as she could. He was large, overwhelmingly so and rather thick, but she was experienced. She was determined to please. And after struggling for a few minutes, she found her rhythm.

His hands went to her hair, gripping the blond locks tightly as he received his second blowjob of the night; the first from her. He cursed softly to himself as the pleasure mounted deep within him. With every stroke that passed he felt growing wilder, more impatient to plunge himself deep within her being. And after being driven to the brink of an orgasm, his desire grew so insatiable that he launched her onto the bed.

The bed frame slammed against the wall, creating a loud thud that woke her roommate and their guest, next door, but the noise was the furthest thing from her mind at four that morning. The needs and wants of others were of no importance to her. All that mattered were her needs, her wants and as she watched her soon to be lover strip himself of his blazer and button down, she knew she would be satisfied.

He watched intently as her breast rose and fell erratically as she lay scantily clothed on the bed. Her legs were slightly parted, giving him a view of her moist womanhood. Another man would have gotten on his knees and returned the favor to her, but he had never tainted his lips with that flesh and she wasn’t a woman worth tainting them for.

Instead, he tore the skirt from her hips and tossed it over his shoulder, not bothering to see where it landed. He hooked his arms under her knees and pulled her towards him, stopping only when her ass was on the edge of the bed. With his left hand he spread her legs and with his right, he kneaded her breasts, his thumb flickering over her pink nipples as he did so.

She squirmed under his touch, his calloused skin unlike what she expected from him and the higher his hands moved, the more wet she grew.

“Don’t tease me,” she nearly gasped.

“That wasn’t teasing,” he told her in his deep, English accent. “This is teasing.”

And before she could ask what he meant, he slipped his middle finger deep inside her and began to pump it in and out furiously. It wasn’t long before his index finger joined in and the young blonde was left writhing on the bed, her arms yanking at her breasts as she arched her back in a fit of pleasure.

“Want a taste?” he whispered into her ear, his voice laced with lust.

“Yes,” she whimpered, her lips remaining ajar for him.

His fingers slid out from within her and he lifted them to her lips. Those fingers were eagerly taken by her. She sucked on them as she had sucked on his cock and made sure to lick every bit of her off of him. That was something that the men she frequented fancied. They said it made her look sexier than usual and if there was something she loved, it was being complimented on her appearance and being called sexy.

“Are you gonna fuck me now or just keep playing?” she growled, her exposed breasts glistening with sweat. “I can’t handle the bloody teasing anymore.”

“Just lay back.” He ordered.

She did as she was told and lay back on the bed, her head resting on a nearby pillow. From her place on the bed, she watched as he pulled out a condom from his slacks. He carefully slipped it on. He may have been horny and slightly buzzed, but he wasn’t foolish enough to fuck a stranger without a condom on. A man of his status couldn’t afford to do such a stupid thing.

With his condom in place, he rested his left hand on her lower stomach and with his right, guided his fully erect member to her entrance. Slowly, he entered her. It took all his self control to not slam into her in one fluid movement. He wanted to pound mercilessly into her, to have her claw at his back and hear her scream his name in a fit of pleasure, but he had to work up to that. There were certain measures that had to be taken, the most important being getting inside her without hurting her too badly.

Her breathing hitched when the tip of him pierced her being. She knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasurable beginning. She’d figured that out when she struggled to take him in her mouth, but as she lay there, tears stinging at her eyes; she seriously contemplated telling him to stop. That was short lived thought. He soon began rubbing tight circles on her clit with his thumb, the simple action causing a wave of pleasure to shoot through her. The pleasure consumed her and made her forget all about the pain stemming from her entrance.

It wasn’t until Harry stopped rubbing that she realized he was fully in.

“You alright?” he asked.

Her response was a nod.

“Right then.” And without saying anything further, he pulled out halfway and slammed himself back into her.

Her hands immediately went to his inner thighs, holding them down as he continued to thrust deep within her. She hadn’t expected him to be so forceful right off the bat. She expected a few minutes of steady strokes that would stretch her, but that wasn’t the case. He was pummeling her, making her tilt her head back as loud moans in the form of his name flew from her lips.

“Right there!” her nails dug into his thighs. “Harder, right there!” she cried, her hips meeting his every thrust. “Yes, oh yes, please!”

“You like that?” his hands gripped her hips.

“Mhm.” Her hands left his thighs and crept upwards, gliding against his sweaty skin.

He took hold of her hands, removing them from his body and pinning them right above her head. Her small breasts bounced at his action, begging him to give them the same treatment as he was doing her hands. So with one hand, he kept her hands in place and with the other he grabbed at her breasts, the intensity with which he thrust, never slowing.

The missionary position soon lost its charm and she was flipped over onto her knees. Her breast dangled downwards, along with her golden blonde tresses and as she awaited his entrance, she began to play with herself in anticipation. She didn’t play very long. His calloused hands grabbed at her hips and without warning, he plunged deep within and sent her jerking forwards. Had it not been for his hold on her, she would’ve fallen on her face.

“OH GOD! HARRY!” she cried as another wave of pleasure overtook her. “Please! Please, don’t stop!”

He went at it harder, driving so deep within her that his flesh smacked against hers, causing her derrière to turn an alarming shade of pink. His hands were no longer contained to her hips. One was now tugging almost violently at her hair and the other; oh the other was carelessly rubbing at her warmth, his fingers following no particular rhythm.

“Fuck.” He growled lowly, his word unheard by the blonde that was in her, own little world.

He could feel his climax coming, the familiar sensation was burning in his loins and with every thrust he delivered. He grew closer to the intoxicating release, which he was so undeniably addicted to. The closer he grew to releasing, the closer he slumped to her body. By the end, his chest was pressed against hers and she was lying on the bed, her legs parted as he replaced his lengthy thrusts with animalistic grinding.

“Say my name!” she demanded as their impending orgasms drew nearer.

That was a problem. He didn’t exactly remember her name. He knew it started with a C or maybe it was a K. It had to be one of those two and as he wracked his fleeting for her name, he came to the realization that he didn’t know it and the odds of him remembering it were very small. So he did the only thing he could think of. He placed his lips to her ears and took it into his mouth.

That shut her up.

His seed soon shot into his condom and her walls clenched around him, drawing every last drop of his hot seed into the barrier that kept them apart. He remained atop her for a short while. His head resting on the crook of her neck as he steadied his breathing. And she remained underneath him, her breathing ragged as her womanhood continued to spasm even after their release.

“Think it’s time you get off.” She told him in between breaths.

“Reckon it is.” He rolled off of her and onto his back. “Well . . .”

“Well,” she cuddled into him, her chin resting on his chest. “That was amazing.”

“It was pretty alright.”

“Not alright, amazing, absolutely amazing . . . thought I was gonna pass out near the end. The way you move . . . fuck . . .”

“Why don’t you get some rest so we can have another go in the morning?”

“It’s already morning.” She countered.

He laughed. “When it’s a decent fucking hour, five am isn’t morning by me.”

“But you promise you’ll be here?”

“I promise,” he lied.

He wasn’t the sort that spent the night. No. He preferred to keep things as simple as possible, because things were always more complicated in the morning. What started out as nothing but a bit of fun, could escalate into something so much more serious for the other person. That wasn’t something he wanted or needed in his life. If he wanted a woman to wake up beside in the morning, he’d be in a relationship, but he wasn’t. Nor did he want to be.

Once her snores broke the morning silence, he decided it was time to make his move. As carefully as he could, he freed himself from her grasp. It was a difficult feat, for she had a tight grip on his chest, but he managed to pry her hands off him and in his stead, placed a pillow for her to hold. With that taken care of, he proceeded to throw his legs over the edge so he could slide out of the bed.

“Harry . . .” she mumbled.

For a moment, he feared she had woken up and discovered that he was breaking his promise. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with her. That was due in large part to the fact, that the last time a woman caught him leaving, she’d thrown a lamp at him. Thankfully, the lamp missed him by a few inches but the memory stayed with him. And as he sat there, his back resting against the mattress, he began to form a lie to tell her.

“Sorry, I was just going to . . .” he trailed off when he saw her sleeping figure.

She hadn’t woken up. She was just muttering in her sleep. He felt like a damn idiot for freaking out over nothing. He was acting like a child instead of the man he’d been raised to be and as he muttered to himself, he reached out for the clothes that were piled on the ground. The clothes were carelessly thrown on. He’d fix them in the car. His shoes, well, those weren’t thrown on. He wasn’t going to risk the heel clicking against the ground. That could be disastrous.

Fully clothed, he inched towards the door and opened it only enough for him to slip out. He held his shoes in his left hand as his right clung to the doorknob for dear life. This was the part of one night stands that he hated. Everything else was a good time, but the sneaking out made him, feel like some wanker that had just mugged someone or beat an old lady. But he wasn’t doing anything that bad.

In fact, he would go as far as to say that he was providing the woman he’d slept with a service, because if he stayed. Her mind would fill with unrealistic expectations that would come crashing down and truly break her heart. This way it was just an unpleasant morning that could be forgotten by a night on the town. It was better this way, easier.

He walked through the large flat in silence. His eyes were squinted to better see in the darkness. He’d thought that there’d be more, light out, seeing as how it was five in the morning, but there wasn’t much to speak of. It was only until he grew closer to the main living area that it grew brighter and the light wasn’t only difference. He also heard what appeared to be someone singing in a foreign language.

At first, he couldn’t distinguish which language it was, but the closer he drew to the light, the louder the singing became and he soon realized it was Spanish. He, personally, didn’t speak Spanish. It had been a language that his grandmother had asked him to learn more, but he wished to learn French over Spanish. Since that was his desire, French was learned and Spanish was cast aside, but as he walked through the apartment, he wished he would’ve bothered to learn it.

His steps slowed when he entered the brightly lit living room and there, standing a few feet away from him in the kitchen, stood a portly young woman. She stood with her back to him, wearing a pair of cut off shorts that reached just above her knees and a faded t-shirt that appeared to be a few sizes to big. Her hair was a dark shade of brown and fell several inches below her shoulders.

The young woman was completely oblivious to the stranger standing in the living room. She was far to busy swaying to the song she was singing as she waited for her coffee to be ready.

“Make it a habit of singing this early, do you?” he asked, now only an arms length from her.

His voice was not one that she recognized and as such, she did the only thing she could think of. She spun on her heel and decked him in the face. In retrospect, she may have overreacted but it was early in the morning, the guy was a complete stranger and only hours earlier, she’d read an article about a man that was going around raping women in their apartments. And for all she knew, he could’ve been that man.

“Bloody hell!” he hissed as he clutched his nose. “What was that for?”

She grabbed a nearby pan from the stove and held it up defensively. “For being a creepy fuck that goes around raping ladies!” her grip intensified. “Now get out before I give you a go with this!”

“I haven’t raped anyone. That girl wanted it.”

“That’s what rapists say!”

“She did!” he began to back away. “She said her place was empty and I'm sorry if your roommate didn’t give you a heads up about bringing a bloke over, but I swear she brought me. Just please don’t wake her up, I'm trying to avoid the awkward goodbye with her.”

“That was you in the room with her.” realization struck her. “Oh fuck. Sorry about punching you. I heard you guys going at it when I woke up so I should’ve known but I don’t function without coffee and couldn’t put two and two together.” She rambled awkwardly. “I'm real sorry about calling you a rapist. You’re clearly not the guy that was on the news. They said he was middle aged so I don’t know where I got off thinking you were him. That was so stupid on my part. Do you want aspirin? I can rummage through their medicine cabinet and find you something.”

“You mean to say you don’t live here? Bloody hell. I don’t even want to imagine what you’d be like if you thought someone was lurking about in your flat. You’d kill the bloke.”

“Probably would,” she agreed. “Are you sure you don’t want any medicine? They’ve got an entire pharmacy in their cabinet. And if you want, I can . . . I can take you to the doctor. I'm sure Alfie will let me take the car.”

“I'm fine, really.”

“Sure about that? I mean, I'm more than happy to drive you to the doctor. It’s the least I could do after punching you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I'm alright. Just need a bit of sleep and a change of clothes.”

“What about some coffee? I have a pot on the stove. It should be ready soon if you want a cup to take along.”

“That actually sounds quite good.”

“Okay, I’ll get a mug ready for you.”

He slipped on his shoes as she busied herself by searching for a traveling mug for him.

“What were you singing? You know, before you punched me,” he leant against the counter.

“Some song my dad always sings.” She placed the mug alongside hers. “You’re probably not familiar with it. It’s a folk song from Mexico.”

“Ah, Mexico, lovely country, went to Acapulco last spring with some mates.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Are you from around there?”

“No, I'm actually not from Mexico at all. I'm American.”

“That explains the accent.” He laughed.

“It does.” She turned off the stove. “My dad’s the one that’s from Mexico and no, he’s not from around Acapulco. He’s from Guanajuato. It’s more inland.”

“Oh, I think I’ve been there. Is that where San Miguel de Allende is? The town, I mean?”

“You’ve been there? Isn’t it amazing?”

“It is.” He agreed. “Very quaint and charming,” he added. “I was surprised by how many old Americans there are running about there.”

“I'm glad I'm not the only one that noticed that.” she began preparing the coffees. “Apparently, it’s become a hip retirement city. And a lot of people are moving in.”

“Coffee smells good,” he commented.

“Thanks, I do it old school without a fancy coffee maker. Ah, here you go. Hope you like it, Harry.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course,” she told him. “Charlotte was screaming at the top of her lungs for a good while. I’d have to be pretty thick if I didn’t catch your name.”

“Well, since you know my name, it’s only fair I know yours.”

She handed him the coffee. “It’s Paulina.”

“Thanks for the coffee, Paulina.”

“You’re welc-“ she stopped mid word when she heard noise coming from Charlotte’s room. “Get down,” she ordered Harry in a hushed tone.

Harry caught on and did as he was told.

“Harry? Are you okay?” Charlotte called out.

“Who’s Harry?”

“He’s . . .” Charlotte trailed off. “He’s left.”

“Guess so.”

“Oh, I'm such a daft cow. Honestly. How could I think he’d stay the night with me? Sometimes I'm just such an idiot. You think I'm an idiot?” Charlotte sniffled.

Paulina avoided answering the question. “I think you need some sleep.”

“I do.” Charlotte agreed. “I suppose I’ll get back to bed, but if you . . . if you hear anyone knock, can you let them in, please?”

“Will do.” She assured.

“Night Paulina and can you not tell Alfred about this? The last thing I need is my brother scolding me about being such a whore.”

“He’s just looking out for you.”

“More like being an insufferable ass,” Charlotte stumbled back to her bedroom.

“She gone?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Paulina offered him a helping hand. “You should probably get going. She’ll probably be back in a few to complain. It’s tradition.”

“No good deed goes unpunished.” Harry stated.

“I honestly doubt that helping a guy sneak out is a good deed. It’s actually pretty shady, but it’s Charlotte and it’s not a big deal with her.”

“But you just said she’s going to complain.”

“Oh, she is, but that’s what she always does. I think she gets a kick out of this sort of thing. Makes for good drama,” she pushed her hair out of her face. “Now, you need to get the fuck out because I'm not about to get in an argument with her over having helped you out.”

He thanked her again for her assistance and then walked out with his coffee in hand, ready to wake his personal chauffeur and bodyguard, whom had been waiting for him. Sure enough, the Bentley was in the driveway and the chauffeur was taking a nap in the front seat, while his bodyguard rested in the back. Harry knocked on the window, waking them both from their slumbers and soon, the young Harry was on his way back to the palace.