26. Dov
DOV
I hide behind the mirrors and lift my face to the air to release a silent roar of frustration.
This is, at least in part, my fault. I only wanted to get closer, to make sure she was safe. Because this hotel isn’t always safe, and not only because of the men who walk between its walls.
Does he know she’s doing that to him? How he takes her touch for granted, his ability to be so close to her, and right now I want to kill him for it. Not because I am jealous at what he gets to experience, but because he isn’t experiencing it.
Wake up, I want to scream at him. See what she’s doing.
I would give the final moments of my existence to be in his place. To feel her nipple pebble under my palm—not because I’ve put my hand there, but because she wants me to touch her.
How it must feel to be desired by such a perfect creature.
Nearby, a radiator bangs like a fist on the door, and she freezes, her breath caught, as though expecting him to wake.
But it’s only the hotel, warning her that it might not like what she’s doing and will punish her for it.
Or perhaps that is me. I am a part of this place now, as much as the groaning floorboards, leaking rooftiles, and ticking pipes.
She turns her face into the pillow, stifling her cries. I want to be the one to silence her, to cover her mouth with mine and swallow her sounds.
Unable to get close to her, I reach down and cover my cock with my hand.
I’ve watched her pleasure herself before, when she believed she was hidden beneath the covers and no one had been listening to her moans.
This is different, though. She’s made no effort to hide her body—in fact, she’s deliberately exposed herself to make use of the hand of the man who is tucked in behind her.
The dark isn’t enough to hide her either. I can still see her, regardless of light, or lack of it.
I build myself at her tempo, moving my hand up and down my length, while my gaze is glued on her.
In my mind, we are doing this together. I already know her scent and the softness of her skin from the times I visit her, and it’s easy for me to believe it is real.
Breathing oxygen into my fantasy and bringing it to life.
She doesn’t know that someone else is joining her in her climax. What would she do if she did? Would she welcome it? Deep down, would she know me?
It isn’t his hand she’s pressing into, but mine. It’s not his form she grinds up against. It’s not his name poised on her lips as she comes.
She doesn’t even know my name.
Soon, I hope that will change.
Pleasure races up my spine in a tingling rush. I’m lost in how her body shakes as she climaxes, how she bites into her pillow. In my mind, it’s her pussy squeezing my cock now, and my body covering hers, and it’s my shoulder she’s biting instead of that piece of cloth.
A hot rush of cum spurts from my slit, and I grit my teeth to hold back yells of my own. I want to be inside her, to release myself deep, to bathe her womb with my semen. I want to claim her and leave a part of me with her.
Will that day ever come?
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust myself to be that unguarded around her.
Yet I can sense it coming. It hangs in my future like a star I’m aiming for.
I don’t mean to frighten her, but sometimes it’s impossible not to. I can feel her pull growing stronger, and I don’t know how much longer I can control myself. I don’t want to be a danger to her, but I don’t know if I can help it.