The Not So Invisible Woman

by Suzanne Portnoy

  It didn't take much to convince him.

  As soon as we fell into bed, Scott began kissing me and reaching towards my pussy. His long fingers probed inside me. Then he moved down the bed and put his head between my legs and began to eat me out. His tongue was insistent and confident. I moaned with delight, and moved my legs onto his shoulders, spreading my legs apart.

  Scott put his fingers inside me while his tongue continued its exploration of my clit.

  'Turn over,' he said.

  I did as instructed. Then he told me to get on all fours. Thinking that he might fuck me from behind, I opened the bedside drawer containing my sex toys and condoms. I pulled out some anal beads and a condom.

  'These look interesting,' he said, picking up the anal beads.

  'Yes, they're a favourite of mine. Wanna have a go?' I said.

  Scott was intrigued. Gradually he pushed all twelve inches of the toy up my bottom, leaving just the ring at the end hanging out of my ass. His fingers continued to work my pussy. I felt myself opening up to him. First one finger went in, then a second. Each addition made me wetter. Scott was a lot naughtier than I'd expected him to be, and he was dominant. I'm liking Scott's World, I thought.

  'Open up to me,' he said.

  He inserted a third finger. I felt my pussy give way. It felt like his whole hand was inside me, working its way up and down my pussy. It felt so good I screamed, so loudly I thought I might wake up the newborn baby next door.

  'What else do you have in that drawer?' Scott asked when I calmed down.

  'There's a strap-on . . .'

  'Really?' he said. 'Ever use it?'

  'Sure, a couple of times. Want to try it?'

  'That might be interesting,' he said. 'I've never been fucked before.'

  I thought that for a straight guy, he wasn't acting so straight. I'd only met two guys in my life who'd gone for strap-on action.

  I buckled the strap-on around my waist. Instantly, it gave me a sense of power and control. So much for being an alpha male, I thought as I started lubing Scott's ass and telling him what to do.

  'Get on all fours,' I said.

  He got on his knees, but I could see his height was going to be a problem. I couldn't reach his anus.

  'Sorry,' I said. 'That's not going to work. Try getting on your back and lifting your legs. You're too tall for me.'

  He turned over and put his long legs in the air. I squatted down and aimed the tip of the dildo at his ass, slowly trying to ease it in the hole. It was not the most comfortable position.

  'Go on, baby,' I said. 'Give it up to me. I'm going to fuck you.' I tried to sound authoritative, dominant, even if it came out forced. 'Come on,' I continued. 'Open up.' I pushed the dildo in a little more. 'I'm going to fuck you real good.'

  I pushed in a little farther. Part of me enjoyed the domination, but the other part felt it wasn't really my character.

  But Scott moaned, so it seemed to be working.

  Squatting down more, I carried on pushing and talking like a top. 'I'm going to fuck your ass. Give it up for me.'

  I gave one more thrust and Scott screamed. He shot up on the bed. 'Fuck!' he said. 'That really hurt. I mean really hurt.'

  That brought me back to earth. 'I'm so sorry, Scott. I didn't mean to hurt you. I guess the position was really awkward. You're so big, it's hard to find the right position, you know?'

  'I'm never going to do that again. Fuck!'

  After a few minutes his pain subsided. Then, apparently back to normal, Scott began to wank. Five minutes later, he came all over my face.

  Drunk and exhausted, we went to sleep. Or tried to. Shortly after Scott rolled over to one side of the bed, his breathing changed and I knew he was asleep. I knew, because Scott became a noise machine. It wasn't gentle snoozing, but snoring and grunting and sniffling. That'll teach me, I thought. I hadn't been with a sleep-killer since my partner Daniel had died three years earlier, and I'd forgotten what a price it was to pay for company in the bedroom.

  After falling in and out of sleep for hours, I tried breathing to Scott's rhythm, but soon realised I was putting more effort into matching the ever-changing rhythm than into trying to fall back to sleep. First, there was the heavy gasping for breath, followed by a few snorts. Then came the trombone honks from his nose, then the gurgling of his throat. Then blessed silence. A minute later, the pattern repeated. Gasp, snort, honk, gurgle. Silence. Gasp, snort, honk, gurgle. Silence.

  I was really tired. I was also really drunk. I knew sleep would not have come easy even in the best circumstances. It never did when I'd had more than two glasses of wine. And Scott and I had shared almost four bottles. That'll teach me, I thought, again.

  I got out of bed and quietly opened the bedside cabinet, hoping to find the wax earplugs I used to wear when Daniel snored beside me. I found my butt plug, a selection of vibrators and a blindfold, but couldn't find the earplugs. I contemplated turning on the light to have a better look around, but remembering that Scott had to wake up early, I didn't want to disturb him. So I made the best of it: I wrapped myself around Scott's body.

  There was a lot to wrap around: his torso was long and broad, his slim legs went on for miles, his tight bum was a hill of meaty flesh. The sound effects were excruciating, but at least if I were going to lie awake, I had a delightful body to cling to.

  A few hours later, I woke Scott with the promised cup of coffee. Then, noticing his morning hard-on, I took the initiative and straddled one of his legs.

  'Suck my cock, baby.'

  I took him into my mouth.

  God, he really gets me, I thought, as I leaned over to obey. No tedious discussion about what he was into, no distracting monologue telling me what he wanted to do to me and how and in what position, just a straightforward command. I had a swinging partner who rarely spoke during sex. When Greg, my regular, spoke it was only to tell me what he wanted me to do next. 'Lick my balls. Twist my nipples. Sit on my face.' That turned me on, and it spoiled me on the mattress-mouth types.

  I spit onto the mushroom head, to lubricate the shaft for my sliding hand.

  Scott grabbed the top of my head and pushed my mouth farther down his cock until I gagged.

  'That's right, baby,' he repeated. 'Suck it good.'

  I felt myself get wet and his cock get harder in my hands.

  'Mmmn,' I moaned, more to myself than for his benefit. 'Mmmmmmmn.'

  I felt him get harder as I continued riding his shaft. I removed my mouth and started wanking him furiously.

  Scott stopped me. 'Not yet, baby. I'll tell you when I want to come.'

  I loved being called 'baby'.

  So, I slowed down, working my mouth around the head of his cock, my right hand working the shaft up and down.

  'Cup my balls.'

  I cupped his balls.

  'Lick them.'

  I licked, as ordered.

  'Stroke me.'

  I stroked.

  'I'm going to come soon,' Scott said shortly afterwards. I felt his body begin to tremble and the pulsing of the veins that ran down the full length of his long hard cock.

  'I'm coming, baby,' he said, panting. 'Take it.'

  I felt his warm come drip down my throat. I continued sucking, but his cock was too sensitive.

  'Ah!' he almost shouted. 'No!'

  I pulled away from him. Between our attempts with the strap-on and now this post-orgasm sensitivity, it was clear I didn't know Scott's boundaries yet. But then, it's hard to know anything for certain after just one night with somebody. I took the obvious cue and left his cock alone.

  I looked at the sheets. They were a MapQuest pattern of the route we'd taken the previous evening and that morning. All the evidence from an odd night and its morning after, there in friendly earth tones.

  I still felt bad that I'd pushed too hard with the strap-on and that Scott had screamed with pain. I regretted being such a novice. Anal can be the ultimate pleasure with an experienced lover. But I was not a
n experienced top and Scott was not an experienced bottom, and I knew it was unlikely he would ever try anal again. There's nothing like having your anal cherry popped by an amateur to put you off the act. I knew that pain myself, having been taken there hundreds of times, and not always gently or by pros. It is easy for a top to get overexcited and push too hard before the bottom is ready, especially with a virgin ass. For all my experience in bed, I'd fucked-up sex like a bumbling newby.

  If the plus to sleeping with lots of hot strangers is the excitement of a new body, a new cock, a new sexual adventure, the minus is that you don't know their limits. You can never be sure if you've read a new partner right or touched his body the way he really likes it touched. I didn't know if I'd be seeing Scott again and get the opportunity to know him, and his body and limits, the way I wanted to. Despite feeling a connection the night before, I feared we'd both pushed the boundaries for a first date.

  I kissed Scott goodbye at the door, then walked back upstairs and pulled the sheets off the bed.

  4. THE REUNION

  I didn't hear from Scott after the strap-on incident, so figured I'd definitely blown it. But since I continued to feel weird about the pain I'd caused him, I shot him an email to clear the air.

  'Hope all's well,' I wrote. 'Sorry if things got a little out of control that night.'

  When I didn't hear back right away, I assumed we were history. Then, about a week later, a response was in my inbox.

  'It was really great to meet you,' he wrote. 'You're right; it did get out of control. I hope that doesn't weird us both out and ruin what I think would be a very cool friendship.'

  I was relieved and also pleased to think Scott might become, as I'd hoped that night we'd met, a friend with benefits. He said he was just about to embark on major travel again but suggested we stay in touch. 'Don't read silence as any sort of regret on my part,' he added.

  Perhaps we'd have the opportunity to try again.

  I made a mental note to use more lube next time around.

  Till Scott came back to London, I thought I'd kill time with my regulars and go to my local, Rio's.

  I hadn't been there in a while and, when I paid my £2 entry toll to the cutie American receptionist, I got a question in return. 'Can I ask you something?' he asked.

  'Yes.'

  'You know what I'm going to ask you, don't you?'

  'Yes, I think I do.'

  'It's you, isn't it?'

  'Yes.' I smiled, arched an eyebrow. My cover was blown. They knew I was the one who'd written the erotic memoir that featured more than a few scenes in their sauna, Jacuzzi and couples' rooms. I wasn't sure I liked the staff knowing who I was, but now that they did, I kind of hoped they'd return the favour and give me a lifetime membership. After all, my book was practically an advertisement for Rio's.

  'So, you're Suzanne.'

  'Yes, I'm Suzanne.'

  'We weren't sure,' he said. 'We've all been reading your book. A few of us thought it might be this other American woman that comes here. But I knew it was you.'

  He looked proud of himself, as if he'd worked out an elaborate puzzle from the Gadget Shop.

  'Guess I'm not so invisible any more. You won't tell anyone, will you?' I said. 'I'd rather everyone else didn't know.'

  'Your secret is safe with me.'

  That's good, I thought. I just wanted to go about my business. The business of getting laid.

  I changed out of my clothes and walked over to the steam room. I was standing outside, debating whether to go in, when I saw Mark, Mr Ireland. I hadn't seen him in a few months. Now, there he was, sitting on a green plastic garden chair, relaxing by the showers. I walked up to him.

  'You wouldn't fancy giving me a back rub later on, would you?'

  'Sure,' he said, looking up, smiling. 'Just give me a half-hour to chill out. Then I'll meet you outside the changing room.'

  I killed some time in the sauna, then, once again, we were climbing the stairs together.

  Since the last time I'd been in Rio's, the management had tacked plastic tubing filled with red lights around the doorways to each of the couples' rooms. It bathed the hallway in a trashy red glow. I'd always treated the private rooms as my personal bordellos, so I welcomed the change. It seemed appropriate.

  'Who needs to go to Amsterdam, when we've got our own mini red light district in Kentish Town?' I said.

  Mark laughed. We entered the largest room, which was at the far end of the hall across from the one where we'd had our first encounter.

  I closed the door behind us, as Mark lay our towels down on the blue plastic mats that covered the platform. It was a familiar ritual.

  As I turned to face him, he pulled me towards him. He put his arms around me and kissed me hard. His tongue was insistent. His body responded instantly. I felt his cock grow hard against my stomach but resisted the urge to touch it. I wanted to make him wait. It was a role-playing thing, more for my own benefit than his. I wanted to build the tension.

  'I haven't had sex in weeks,' I said. 'I'm horny as hell.' Comments like that build anticipation. Most men get off on being the first, and if they're not the ones to pop your cherry, breaking a girl's abstinence is the next best thing. In this case, then the latter was true. I'd gone weeks without, been too busy even to call my usual fuck buddies. I was really glad I'd not had sex in so long, because I'd hoped to see Mark again, and here I was finally getting my wish.

  'I haven't had it in months,' he replied. He grabbed my hands and held them above my head so I was pinned against the door. He kissed me again. It was more urgent this time. It wasn't desperation so much as need. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

  I grabbed his bum to pull him into me and he moved one hand down to his cock, rubbing the head up and down against my pussy. I felt myself getting wet. This time I couldn't resist touching him. But as I went to do so, he grabbed my hands again, pulling them above my head once more, and kissed me again. I loved the way he dominated me, the forcefulness in his touch. There was no hesitation in his movements, no awkwardness. I gave myself completely to him. I turned towards the platform and leaned over it. Mark put his arms around me from behind. I felt his hard cock on my ass.

  'Wait a second,' I said. I reached towards my kitbag. 'I have to get a condom.'

  Suddenly he pulled away. He had been just seconds from thrusting his cock inside me. Now I feared that the fumbling for a condom had broken the flow.

  'Don't need one. Let me just give you a massage,' he said. He sounded apologetic. 'Is that OK?'

  I got the sense he was having second thoughts, so I turned towards him, sat on the platform, and took his cock in my mouth. He held the back of my head in one hand and pulled me into him. I felt him get rock hard right away. He seemed on the verge of coming, but I wanted to take my time so pulled away. His cock stood straight out, at a right angle to the rest of his body. It was pointed right at my face, as though demanding I take it back in my mouth.

  'OK, I'll have that massage now,' I said, and, without waiting for a response, lay on my stomach.

  Mark crawled on top of me, crouching on his knees and pinning my legs together between his own. He reached for a bottle of baby oil he had brought with him, and I heard him squeeze some liquid out and rub his hands together before applying the warm oil to my back. His hands moved in long strokes, sliding from the top of my shoulders down to my lower back. I wanted to feel his cock swing gently against my ass and his fingers part my legs. I lifted myself up slightly as he worked his way down my body, offering myself to him. But he resisted. Instead, he moved his hands up and down my body, up and down, before concentrating on my buttocks. Finally, he spread the cheeks open.

  'You know, I'd love your cock in my ass,' I said, giving in to my desires. I waited for his fingers to brush against my clit.

  'Do you mind if I just give you a massage?' he said.

  'Just a massage?' I tried not to sound disappointed.

  'Yes, just a massage,' he said. He soun
ded diffident. I got the sense he wanted to give me more than a massage.

  'Can I turn over, then?' I said.

  'If you want.'

  I rolled over to face him. I was still between his legs, and now I could see his hard-on standing straight out. 'Can you just rub my pussy? Just a little?' I asked. 'I'm incredibly horny.'

  'Yes, I can do that,' he said, as though concluding that that act was in the 'Allowed' column of his rule book. He began to finger me gently, first using his whole hand to rub the mound, then moving his fingers inside and out whilst applying pressure to my clit with his thumb.

  It felt great, for about five minutes. 'Why won't you fuck me?' I said at last, feeling myself dripping on his hands, my pussy opening up more and more to receive his fingers. 'Is it the condoms?'

  'No,' he said. 'It's just that ... it would be cheating on my girlfriend. I can't do that.'

  I let his comment go. I wasn't about to get involved in a conversation about the dynamics of his relationship. I just wanted to get off.

  Mark's fingers continued dancing around my clit. The endorphins built, built until the desire to feel him inside me was so strong, I knew that his not fucking me wasn't an option. I raised myself up, put my arms around his lower back, and pulled his cock towards me, taking him in my mouth again. He kept his hand on my clit and continued rubbing. I pulled his cock completely into my mouth; I used my tongue to lap at the underside of his shaft, covering it with my saliva. I was lost in the pleasure of feeling his hands probing me and his cock inside my mouth.

  Suddenly, Mark pulled me by the back of my hair, pushed me down onto the mat, and climbed on top of me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I felt his hard cock just inches away from my pussy. I grabbed his hips and pulled him inside. This time, he did not resist. He plunged into me, filling me up. I gasped.

  I felt a rush of endorphins, almost like when I'm about to come, except I wasn't there yet. But it was a moment of such intense pleasure, so intoxicating that an orgasm was beside the point. Mark continued holding me down by my hair. It wasn't violent, it wasn't painful, but somehow it seemed right, given the force of his desire.