Taking It (Part Two)

15 Jul
ashley bird

flickr image by Powderruns

The following post is the third and final instalment in a trio of tales. Please read the prequel first, followed by part one.

Scott pulled his brother aside, along with the friend they were sharing their hotel room with. They huddled together in hushed tones before he returned; a victorious smile on his cute face. “We’ve got the room to ourselves for an hour. Let’s go.”

We speedily hailed a cab and headed back to his hotel. Things got pretty hot and heavy in the elevator as it chugged towards Scott’s floor. I only hope that cctv footage doesn’t end up on redtube someday soon.

As we burst inside the hotel room I saw three single beds militarily lined up in a row. Not quite a honeymoon suite.

Foreplay? I hear you ask. Forewhat? It quickly became apparent that to a randy intoxicated twenty-one year old male, this cursed f-word doesn’t exist.

My young lover ungracefully deposited me onto the single bed closest to the door, then quickly removed every scrap of his own clothing, including the esteemed ‘sports top’. I however, lay on the bed, fully clothed.

After he’d undressed himself, he started on me. He urgently scrabbled to remove my knickers with clumsy fingers, but left my dress untouched. Next he roughly shoved his fingers inside me without the luxury of precision nor dexterity and began to enthusiastically stroke himself. Meanwhile, I remained splayed on my back, beginning to wonder why I’d ever agreed to this bout of copulation in the first place.

“I’m not hard yet,” he rasped unsexily in my ear. 

At that very moment it would have been divine to lie in my own hotel bed and not have my vagina pillaged by skill-less fingers.

Before too long, he’d gloved himself and the coitus began. Again, no fireworks, waves crashing against rocks, nor volcanoes erupting. However, after a few stokes I began to get into the groove and began emitting small sounds of enjoyment.

“Shhh!” he whispered in my ear as he rocked back and forth on top of me. “Shhh…”

My mouth immediately snapped shut like a rusty rabbit trap. My confused drunken mind took stock for a moment. Why was he silencing me? Was there someone else in the room? A sliver of soberness edged into my inebriated mind, reassuring me that we were in fact alone. Then why, pray, was he shushing me?

Again, I began to make soft encouraging noises.

“Shhh!” he whispered again. “Shhh…  Just fuckin’ take it.” As his pumping increased in gusto, his words became louder and rose in urgency. “Just fuckin’ take it! Just fuckin’ take it!”

As I lay underneath him, my legs spread apart as wide as my hips would allow, I believed for all intents and purposes that surely I was ‘just fucking taking it’. Whatever the hell that actually means. Lucy’s guess when I told her the next day was that he’d watched too many dodgy pornos in his short life. I tended to agree with her, perhaps fused with me being a hefty seven years older, meaning he needed to prove what a skilful lover he was… By apparently screaming out phrases he’d learnt whilst watching his dad’s porn collection.

At that moment he jumped up. “The condom just broke!” he proclaimed, scuttling into the bathroom. Perhaps he’d had the condom in his possession for a number of years, just waiting for an opportunity to actually be able to use it. It seemed that opportunity had been such a long time coming that the rubber had now passed its used by date.

The bathroom door remained wide open and I had a prime view of Scott determinedly attempting to maintain his erection in order to glove himself up for round two. I stifled a giggle and resisted the urge to text Lucy with an amusing update.

Scott strode back into the room, continuing to stroke himself. He perched between my legs and eloquently informed me, “I’m not hard yet. Show me your tits.”


Round two began. By this stage of the proceedings, I had to wonder whether I was still there for enjoyment, or for the comedic value alone.

With an undeniable sense of déjà vu, my soft whimpers of pleasure were once again silenced. “Shhh! Just fuckin’ take it. Just fuckin’ take it!”

Suddenly the sound of the hotel door opening followed by the room flooding with light forced me to push Scott off me, mid-thrust, and yank my dress down to maintain a semblance of modesty. I quickly sat upright, ensuring my dress was shielding my nether regions. Scott perched beside me on the bed, continuing to glide his hand up and down the length of his shaft, for fear of once again losing his beloved erection.

Two pairs of eyes peered at us from the foot of the bed. I assumed the guy expressionlessly staring at us must be Scott’s elusive friend who was sharing the hotel room, but whom I’d yet to be introduced to. Oh well, no time like the present to make an amazing first impression.

The friend was accompanied by a blonde girl holding a beer. The pair stared at us impassively, showing no reaction to the pornographic scene they’d just witnessed. I imagined if any of us were actually the slightest bit sober, this could in fact have been quite an awkward scenario.

Blessedly, Scott decided to leave his private parts alone long enough to quickly redress himself. He then ushered his friend into the bathroom to converse in hushed tones.

Meanwhile, the blonde girl walked over to the bed next to the one Scott and I had just been copulating on. She lay down, a mere metre or so away from me and turned in my direction, propping her head up with a hand. She took a sip of her beer, then smiled kindly at me. “Hi, I’m (insert name that I have long since forgotten here).”

“Hi, I’m Dawn,” I replied, well aware that my undies still lay guiltily on the floor in between us.

“What country are you from?” she asked inquisitively, with an unidentifiable European accent.

And so the shit-chat continued. We discussed places we’d travelled to, whom our travelling companions were and offered advice on each other’s next destinations. All the while my snatch remained unclothed.

Finally, the boys reappeared. The friend strode determinedly over to the blonde girl, lay on top of her and began his business. “We’re good to go,” Scott whispered in my ear. “They’re cool.” He began to remove his shorts once again.

Perhaps I’m a prude, but situations like that are just not for me. “I don’t think so,” I snapped, jumping up and retrieving my underpants. I made my way to the door, but not before I was intercepted.

“C’mon,” Scott begged, stroking my arm. “You can’t leave me like this.” His blue eyes pleaded with mine.

“Well, what do you want to do about it?” I asked.

His eyes flashed towards the bathroom door, one of his eyebrows cocked quizzically.

Just for the record, bathroom sex is in no way sensual. We began the ordeal with me perched on the edge of the bathtub, Scott kneeling in between my legs. I imagine the boy had some pretty impressive bruises on his knees the next day from those unforgiving tiles. Next we tried me bending over the sink, with him taking control from behind. However, despite the taps that I kept accidentally turning on, there was nothing for me to grab a hold of. Lastly we attempted Scott sitting on the toilet seat, with me perched precariously on top of him. Perhaps this position would have worked, had the flush not been operated by sensor, causing the toilet to flush every thirty seconds or so.

It was then that I made the decision to end the proceedings once and for all. As I readjusted my underwear, I ruthlessly ignored his pleas and claims of ‘blue balls’. Though I’ll admit it took me back a decade or so to when I may actually have been young enough to believe this male-created legend.

Ever the gentleman, Scott offered to escort me out, despite his apparently uncomfortably full testicles. But not before I self-importantly bookmarked my blog on his laptop.

 As we descended in the elevator, making idle chit chat, it seemed unbelievable to imagine this polite young man had been ordering me to “just fuckin’ take it” a mere twenty minutes ago.

As we exited the hotel, we searched the street for a taxi. Unfortunately we could only spy one, where the cab driver was passed out on the front seat having a kip. Our loud energetic bout of window banging wasn’t enough to rouse him.    

We both spotted the seedy old character on the motorbike at the same time. “What’s your stance on a motorbike taxi?” Scott implored.

An answer wasn’t necessary, as I’d already hopped onto the back of the bike in my summer dress, my legs clamped tightly to the sleazy rider. As we sped off down the road towards my hotel, I yelled a parting comment over my shoulder. “Don’t forget to check out my blog!”

“I will!” I heard Scott’s response, before the motorbike zoomed around a corner and he disappeared from my sight.

I dread to think what the hotel staff’s opinion of me was as they kindly assisted me in dismounting the motorbike out the front of the hotel restaurant at five o’clock in the morning, wearing the same dress as the night before, sporting panda eyes and I’ve-just-fornicated-hair. Moreover, as I hopped off the motorbike, I’m certain my dress betrayed my modesty by revealing my underwear.

Thank goodness I was finally wearing some.

Dear ‘Scott’… Hello. I’m glad you’re still reading my blog. Hopefully this latest post featuring our sexual rendezvous won’t dissuade you from reading any upcoming posts. Kind regards, Dawn xx.

4 Responses to “Taking It (Part Two)”

  1. Just Saying July 15, 2011 at 1:56 am #

    Oh Scott. You have so so much to learn about pleasing women.

    For the love of gawd, do NOT take your fucking “just take it” cues from the bad porn you watch. That.is.fantasy. Not.Real.Life.

    Had Scott (no matter what his age) told me to shhhh just take it, I could have said the same thing as I misleadingly turned him over and pulled out a small vibrator. “shhhh, just take it”…

    Scott, after the age of, oh I don’t know, 16 yrs old, all girls know “blue balls” don’t exist.

    Want to have successful sex life. Make sure the woman you’re with are taken care of FIRST! You second.

    Dawn, you are a rockstar for staying as long as you did.

    • Dawn Dash July 15, 2011 at 1:12 pm #

      This comment made me laugh. Out loud. A LOT.

      If ‘Scott’ does in fact still read this blog, you have given him some valuable advice. Advice that I really should have given him at the time. As seven years his senior, I should have been his mentor and coached him through the whole act (God knows he needed it), rather than internally mocking him.

      As for me staying as long as I did… is it wrong that part of me stayed merely to gather some juicy blogging material?

      • Just Saying July 15, 2011 at 2:20 pm #

        Nope, not at all.

        My mouth was gapping open when I read the “shhhh, just take it”.. .. Someone asked me if I was trying to catch flies with my mouth open. lol

        I’m going to use that line on the booty call next time. lol
        I can totally seeing him giving me a look of “wtf?!”

        Glad it made you laugh!

        • Dawn Dash July 15, 2011 at 2:39 pm #

          Had I not been so disgustingly drunk on massive cocktail buckets, I probably would have been more shocked by the ‘just take it’ line. I actually found it quite amusing – like I was starring in my very own badly-scripted porno. I really should have told him not to say that. EVER. Well, not if he wants a repeat performance with the same girl anyway!

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