Melancholia

You’d barely made it back to the hotel room before you were all over each other, your hands roaming each other’s bodies, your tongues dancing with each other. The door hadn’t even shut properly before she was pinned against the wall and you were making out like your lives depended on it.

Without breaking the best kiss of your life, you released your rock-hard cock and scooped her up, spreading her legs wide and hooking one over over each arm. She wrapped her arms around your neck for support as her glistening pussy lips beckoned you without restriction. You broke the kiss and stared deeply into her eyes, releasing a guttural moan as you buried yourself to the hilt inside her. She screamed as she instantly exploded into a huge orgasm, waves of pleasure washing over her as her pussy contracted around your throbbing cock.

You held her there, nibbling at her neck as she slowly came down from her high, sweating profusely and murmuring unintelligible words of love. Then you began your agonisingly slow as you began pumping your full length in and out of her dripping wet pussy. Your combined cries of pleasure filled the room as you increased your pace, another two orgasms hammering at her senses before you were began to reach the edge yourself.

As if reading your mind she screamed your name, begging to be filled to the breaking point, on the brink of another orgasm herself. Without delay you thrust into her hard, releasing your seed deep inside her and held onto her tight as waves of pleasure washed over you both.

When you eventually opened your eyes, you were back in your tiny flat, the hotel disappearing into the distant wreckage of your memory. The nameless girl you spent your first, and best night with retreating into your fantasies for another night.

The sun shone brightly through your blinds, illuminating your surroundings to your bleary-eyed gaze. You stretch your legs out and rub your eyes, clearing them of debris so they can eventually function properly. As usual, they bring your dull, average-sized room into focus. A single, small wardrobe stood on the left hand side of your double bed, it’s contents too small, too old or just plain awful, yet you wore them anyway due to never having enough money.

The only other notable feature of the room was the stack of junk-filled cardboard boxes you hadn’t bothered to unpack in the six months you’d lived with your bitchy sister, Jenny.

Finally reacquainted with your surroundings, you drag yourself into a seated position. You let out a sigh and reached for your iPhone, expecting to see nothing more than the usual notifications of recent news headlines.