The Meeting

The destination seem to lay on some absolutely forbidden plain, even after traveling roads with only subtle touches of civilization for miles. The young woman has finally arrived to the place in which she had agreed: a haven of an exceptionally shanty motel, with no more than twenty rooms, most of which appeared to be unused; like a vision of abandonment. The building is only recognizable by the giant electric sign that looms over the silent road and empty parking lot: the word Vacancy blinking on and off. It appears tacky in a way, vulgar even; a dirty place to dabble in secrecy.

The party in which the young woman has arranged this appointment with had expressed the desire for a discrete location, for their privacy’s sake, and this area is obviously fitting of such standards. She wonders if they could be any more secluded than they are in this moment, and then deems it not likely. She turns the speculation over in her mind so that it jabs her with instinctive caution, as hard as she had been trying to suppress it. She feels it in the rampant pounding of her heart and down to the doubt in the pit of her stomach, her legs bouncing rapidly and feet fidgeting in anticipation of the unknown. She realizes that her fit of reluctance must have come along in the anticipation of the people themselves. Will their appearances confirm her imagination of them? Will this be the greatest experience of her life thus far?

The people in whom she is to be meeting are a very nice couple, as far as the young woman knows of them. The parties had only begun exchanging messages for a short number of days before they decided to arrange this meeting between them. Distance was no matter. They didn’t reside conveniently close, but they defeated the distance and met halfway between the hundreds of miles between them. The idea for this meeting had been established even upon first encounter, a deal of sorts. The young woman has fantasized about such scenarios before; ones that she may have thought were only taboo and unachievable desires. Perhaps her age plays a role; just recently ripe and good for the picking, she is now finally presented with a smorgasbord of opportunities.

As she reaches the point in which she is finally counting down numbers of the doors, as if a timer were about to go off, that pang of doubt strikes her again, her adrenaline running so wild she wonders if her heart may explode. She pushes through the strain and frantically scrambles for the confidence needed to approach this situation, digging deep down inside herself to adopt some sort of a façade, some sort of an air of temptation to her confidants.

As soon as she is face to face with the man of whom she is only vaguely familiar, even more surreal in person, her dread is contemplating deterioration. He welcomes her into their personal quarters for the evening, opening the door ever so slightly so that she may slip through. It is oddly like she may have imagined it; dark and compact, as if it were a cave, cloaked in a haze of cigarette smoke like a cloud traveled down from the sky. Some sort of rock music is thrashing softly in the background, but to the young woman it is mere white noise, a rush of no sound at all in the young woman’s ears. The man seductively exhales smoke from his nose like a dragon before slowly taking a seat on the tight leather sofa. He looks up to her to lock his narrowing eyes with hers and offers a subtle smirk, a silent calling for her.

So the young woman sits where she is finally within the man’s intimate area, for the couch is small so that it permits them to not have much space to themselves, seeing as this man is so robustly built. They participate in idle small talk, the mention of the trips taken to come to this isolated paradise and the fun which is to be taking place. For whatever reason, the woman feels as though this man may consider conversation unnecessary, so she tightens her lips to him upon his unspoken request.

The man appears to be older than the young woman had speculated, but of course, she had only seen a single photo. He presents himself calm and exceptionally composed, but it is assuring in a way nonetheless. How thankful she is to be comfortable in his presence. He isn’t even quite halfway through his life, but the girl feels as though even a decade superior to her may as well be a century. She tries to hush the whispering of intimidation she feels for him, but it deems itself to be prominent. And somehow, it offers her comfort; she recognizes silent care in his being, or so she is led to believe by some other complex.

She knows he’ll live up to his promises, for he seems to be intelligent enough to live as a man fair to his word. She knows this night is going to be fantastic, something to remember for the rest of her days, enough to satisfy that dooming fantasy that was once thought to be unreachable.

But who could forget his pretty partner, a sensationally beautiful woman with which to share the evening. His wife, who also appears more mature than she had assumed, but exuding sex nonetheless, had been hiding in the bathroom. She swings the door out, her arm flying in such a swift motion that the shoulder of her black satin robe drops to expose her chest that heaves in such sudden excitement. Amused looks exchange throughout the room as the woman laughs wildly and then quite excitedly before smiling and reluctantly covering herself. She disregards the wardrobe malfunction and flies to the young girl, the sleeves of satin serving as an outspread set of wings.

Despite her edgy behavior, the girl unexpectedly finds the older woman to offer an even greater amount of assurance; perhaps she must be a kindred spirit. The sensual embrace of a woman, how seemingly divine to her, a feeling in which the girl had only dreamt of but not yet experienced. Until now. She had filed such rendezvous, sexual experiences with beautiful women, under the fantasies to which she immersed in. She had not known why she had regarded this as an outrageous impossibility, for now every fantasy is unfolding before her, shut in with a pair of beautiful faces and outlets of lust to which she could delve into crazily spectacular experiences with.

The woman sweetly gushes to her husband just how breathtaking this girl is, what a sweet young pet and how oh-so-lucky they were to have found her. The girl perks up at this mention, beginning to emulate a character of submission to these potential caretakers, offering the bait for them to proceed with their act. The woman stands stroking the back of the young girl’s neck, just barely combing through her luscious waves before taking a fist full and giving a surprise yank, to which the girl barks in astonishment.

Her husband, having watched contently during this time, quietly meanders across the room to his beauties and smiles at the two as if they had been mother and child playing some sort of game, and he had come to take part as the proud father. The woman smiles even wider and smacks her hand on the girl’s ass as casually as she would grab her hand. Her husband interferes to grab the girl’s ear with his teeth and murmur to her that her ensemble is waiting for her in the restroom, before the woman steers her away with a shove of her backside.

The girl finds no wardrobe at all. She assumes this must be the outfit, or lack thereof, they had selected for her. Next to the empty space on the marble, there is s a perfectly crafted straight line of something that she guesses isn’t baking soda; no she is not that naive. The substance is unknown however; she’s not sure whether to identify it as cocaine or some sort of crushed up pill. No matter. She vacuums it up with only a flash of reluctance.

She strips every garment of clothing aside from her strappy heels stares intensely at her reflection in the mirror, sassily shaking her hair around with her fingers, trying so hard to emulate some air of a vixen. She makes sure to wipe any smudges off of her face and straighten her back just enough so that she doesn’t appear to have lodged a stick up her ass. Her heart is accelerating again, worse than before. She has to choke for air. She gives out a heaving exhale and raises her breast in result of an equally long inhale.

She cautiously opens the door, slowly as if she doesn’t want them to hear, but then realizes they may recognize her by the clicking of the heels she had decided to leave on. Either way, they see her coming, creeping almost from behind the corner. Everyone’s sights are set on each other as the three of them each slowly make a rotation of their eyes throughout the room, exchanging devious looks, as if it were a dirty secret. Words are hardly needed. Perhaps if it’s necessary. When talk is said, the words are quiet and soaked in sensuality. Instead the dominant figures signal an order of a mischievous come hither look on the girl, standing shyly with every inch of her body exposed.

So the girl cautiously glides from her hiding space, conscious of an attempt at fluid movements. She meanders to the bed they directed her to and is automatically laid down, looking at the ceiling as she is too anxious to look any place else. The superiors laugh lightly all around and embrace her until she finally accepts blissful comfortability. She surrenders to their petting and poking and prodding and penetrating until she feels entirely free-spirited, like a wave of relief is washing over her as she escapes the confinement of the oppressive abstinence that had once been applied to her. What a salvation unto her, liberation, liberation, liberation!

Suddenly her authority figures are no longer being gentle or nurturing, not in any sense. The wife rips off fistfuls of the girl’s beautiful hair and viciously strews them to the side, as her husband mounts the girl’s delicate frame, pinning her wrists so tightly against the bed that she fears her bones may snap. Her skin burns. They’re no longer playing.

The man wraps his strong hands around the girl’s neck, sticking the tips of his fingers against her pressure points, pumping her all the while. For whatever outrageous reason, the girl basks in the asphyxiation, it even excites her. All the while his grip gets harder and harder until her leg begin to thrash the ceiling fades into blackness. She thinks what a fantastic experience. She feels herself about to burst into sweet euphoria, what an amazing release, the best experience she has ever felt! She explodes into ecstasy and gasps in the thrill of her final breath.