If, for some reason, you feel offended by sexual stories, then I don't know why you have opened this one. Maybe to be offended, so you can complain about how awful it is that somebody writes stuff like this. If that's the case, my advice is to seek professional help. You need it. If you are not allowed to read stories like this, I will not be held responsible, if you choose to continue. But don't worry, it's all fantasy.

If you liked the story, then feel free to tell me so. The only reward I get for writing stories for you, are your comments. My E-mail is henlar@hotmail.com.
  



(c) Henrik Larsen 2000.
Reposting or any other use is strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder. E-mail me, I'll probably give you permission. I just want to know and control where it is posted. This story may be posted as part of a review or to the ASSM archive.


The Trip.

I should have known it. I should have known it when the taxi was late. But I did catch my plane to London. Circling over London for half an hour wasn't a sure sign of anything bad. It's more the rule than the exception. But I should definitely have known it would be one of those weeks, when my suitcase caught the plane to Paris instead of London. Anyway, it was too late to cancel everything. I was already there and my suitcase did show up after all, Tuesday morning.  

I lost a day, since some of the stuff I needed to do the job was in the case. But it was no problem to get a seat on the six o'clock plane on Thursday instead of Wednesday. Nobody flies from London to Copenhagen on a Thursday evening. 

Exactly! Nobody flies to Copenhagen Thursday evening. I'll bet you there were no technical problems; there were just too few passengers. It's always due to technical problems, when they cancel a plane. But the reality is that they do it quite often, because it's cheaper to pay one night at a hotel for a few people than to fuel up a plane. 

There was no reason to argue with the guy at the check-in desk. I mean, it wasn't his fault, he just worked there. I was pretty much used to people taking it out on me, when something wasn't functioning the way they wanted it to. He looked like he appreciated it. At the next desk was a woman in her mid or late twenties, yelling at the poor guy there. I just left and went to the ticket counter, where I could get the hotel voucher. The woman joined me shortly after, still furious about the cancellation. 

She waited impatiently behind me, complaining about the fact that she had to queue to get a hotel room. She was apparently living too far from the airport to go home.

'How can you take it so calmly?' she asked me, while the ticket clerk prepared my voucher.

'Well, these people working here are not the ones responsible for the cancellation. As long as they treat me well, I see no need to batter them.'

'Yes, but it's just so. . . . Argh.'

'We'll just have to make the best of it,' I said and turned to look at the woman behind the desk. 'Now, I'm sure we'll get money for a cab to the hotel, so we don't have to carry our heavy suitcases and then we can have a nice dinner at the hotel restaurant.' 

The ticket clerk looked up at me, smiling. She had clearly heard what I said and there was really no way she could avoid giving us the cab fare. Normally, they didn't give a damn about how you got to the hotel, since it was next to the airport, but I knew the small tricks of the trade. And it was a really hot evening. There was thunder in the air. You know the feeling: hot, heavy humid air all around you, like a blanket.

We shared a cab to the hotel, a few minutes from the airport. Now, you might think you know what this was leading to, but there were no such thoughts in my mind. I love my wife, really, and just the thought of a little adultery could make me scared. I mean, either you suddenly have a jealous woman on your hands, threatening to tell your wife, if you don't break up the marriage immediately and marry her, or you get the clap or something worse. So no, I wasn't even considering it. 

We checked in and everything was OK, until the receptionist asked us whether we needed two keys.

'I'm sorry, you seems to have misunderstood. We are not together, we need separate rooms,' I answered politely.

'Ehh. . . . I think we have a problem then, you see, there is a conference at the hotel and we are fully booked. If you're not going to share a room, one of you will have to go back and get a voucher for another hotel.'

My female companion immediately blew a fuse.

'WHAT? First our flight is cancelled and now you haven't got a room. I. . . . ' I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. 

'My good man,' I said quietly. 'Our flight has been cancelled and we need to be in the airport to catch the first flight tomorrow morning. If I have to go back, get another voucher, go into town and check in, it will hardly be worth the effort. I'll have to get up before I go to bed. Now, we need two rooms and it can't be impossible in a hotel this size.'

I was still calm, but my patience was beginning to run out too. 

'I'll tell you what we'll do,' I continued. 'Now, we'll put our luggage in the room you have found and then we'll eat a nice dinner. When we've finished eating, you'll have found an extra room for us, OK?'

'I'm sorry sir, but I don't think I can . . . .'

'Sure you can.'

'I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise you anything.' 

He didn't look too pleased with the situation, but I had tried something like this before and usually, they would come up with something. I was soon to realise that my troubles weren't over yet. You know, it really was one of those weeks where I should have stayed in bed on Monday.

When I opened the door to the room, I was almost knocked over by a heat wave. 

'My God, they have booked us in the hotel sauna.' I said to myself. 

It was 27 degrees C outside, but this room was facing south and had been heated to well over 30 C by the sun. I went inside and found the switch to the air conditioning and turned the dial to full power. We dropped the suitcases and got out of there as fast as possible. 

It was now a couple of hours, since we'd stood at the check-in desk at the airport. The time was a little past seven and the restaurant was reasonably empty. We got a nice table. We didn't even discuss it, it was just natural to eat together. 

'Now, what should we have,' I said out loud, mostly to myself. 

'I don't know what you are having,' She said, 'but I'm fairly hungry, so I'll have a complete 3 course menu, starting with the smoked salmon on toast and a steak for the main course. I'll decide on dessert later. By the way, I'm Sofie. What's your name?'

'Oh, sorry. I'm Henry. Pleased to meet you.' 

I quickly glanced through the menu. 

'I think I'll take the same. Since it's the airline paying, how about a glass of champagne to accompany the salmon and a bottle of red for the steak. I think the 1982 St. Emillion looks like it's worth drinking.' 

'I better leave that to you. You sound like you know a lot more about it than I do. I guess you go to fancy restaurants often. Do you travel a lot?'

'No, not really. And I usually travel alone. I rarely bother to go to a restaurant, when I'm by myself. It's so boring to eat alone, so I just grab a sandwich or something.'

'What do you do?'

'Well, I install and maintain a computer system specially designed for advertising companies. Sometimes, I visit the customer to update their system. It's not really necessary do it on the spot. Most of it can be done remotely, but my boss seems to think we need to be visible to the customer. If we just update their system remotely, they don't think they are getting anything.'

'Sounds interesting.'

'It isn't, really. Computers are boring in the long run and hotels and airports begin to look alike after a while.'

'Beats working in a bank, I can tell you. I never get to go anywhere, unless I pay myself. And then they cancel my flight. Just think if I had booked a hotel in Copenhagen. I would've had to pay for that anyway.'

'When you get back, you should write a letter to the airline company and complain. Ask your travel agent to send it for you. And be sure to list any expenses you've had. They probably won't give you a cash refund, but maybe a gift voucher for later use.' I said, enjoying giving away some of my hard earned travelling experience.

'I might try and do that.'

'Where were you going to stay? Do you have family in Copenhagen?'

'No, one of my friends is studying there for six month. I'm going to stay with her until Sunday.'

We carried on with the light dinner conversation. I learned that she was 26, she had a boyfriend, they didn't live together but they were engaged to be married. He couldn't get Thursday and Friday off, so he was going to join her on Saturday. I told her she was having dinner with a 40 years old father of 2, happily married for 15 years. Just for the record, it is 15 years with the same woman, which is a bit of an exception nowadays, at least judging from friends and colleagues. 

I also had time to get a better look at her. She looked fairly average. I mean, she was pretty, but not anything like a model. Something like 5' 5" or maybe 5' 6". She was wearing a long, loose T-shirt, which made it hard to tell what her figure was like. She didn't look fat, but she was definitely not extremely thin. Her hair was brownish, cut short and only just covered her ears. She wasn't wearing any makeup, as far as I could see and in my opinion, she didn't need to. Her eyes were big and brown, her eyelashes very long and her lips were pale red.

I felt flirtatious like I hadn't felt in years, maybe even a little in love. I was thinking about a story I could put her into, to sort of keep her for more than this dinner, when she interrupted my thoughts. 

'Does something like this often happen to you?'

'What do you mean, a cancelled flight?'

'Yes.'

'Well, this week has been really bad. I wouldn't even have thought it possible, if I were to write about something like that.'

'You write?' She asked, very interested.

'No, not really,' I said and tried to change the subject, telling her about my perfect week. She forgot about the writing and laughed about my vivid description of my somewhat chaotic week. 

We were well into the main course and had almost finished the bottle of red St. Emilion, when she suddenly remembered the writing.

'So, what do you write?'

'Nothing, really. It's just for fun.'

'I have met a lot of people, who were going to write the novel of the year and then quit their job and live off the royalties, but I don't think I have ever met one who actually had started writing. Do you dream about doing it for a living too?'

'No. . . . well to be honest, I guess I do. All writers do. But the difficult thing isn't to write the story. What is really difficult is to find somebody who will buy it. It will probably never happen. There are so many people out there, writing, not just talking about it. Right now, I just do it for fun.'

'What do you write? Sci-Fi, crime, romance?'

'It's nothing, really. Just small stories.'

I didn't really want to tell her about it, but she didn't give up.

'Come on. Tell me about it. You are the first author I've met. Have you ever had anything published?'

'A book? No.'

'But isn't it frustrating to write something that nobody will ever read?'

'I didn't say nobody ever read it.'

I was already telling her too much. Nobody knew about my little hobby and I had planned that it was going to stay that way. But maybe it was the wine that made me enjoy teasing her a little. 

'What do you mean? If you haven't published anything, how can people read it?'

'Well, I publish it on the Internet.'

'Uh. I've never really been on the Internet. Can you do that, I mean, publish things there? Do you get paid?'

'No, I don't get paid. As I said, it's only for fun.'

'But why? If you don't get any money, what do you get? I mean, it must take a lot of time, writing.' 

'I get letters and comments from people all over the world, when I write something that people like. It's a great feeling to know that a lot of people like the stories I write.'

'But there aren't that many people who can read Danish, especially not outside Denmark.'

'No, but I write in English. I know I sound very Danish, but my English is pretty good and I have a couple of nice people correcting my stories before I publish them.'

'You mean, there is somebody, proofing your stories . . . . and they don't get paid either?' 

Sofie looked like she didn't believe a word of what I said. I guess working in a bank could lead you to think that nobody did anything except for money. 

'They do a lot of work for free. And I can't tell you why they do it, but I'm very grateful that they do.'

Sofie looked very thoughtful for a moment.

'Do you have any of your stories with you? Can I read one?'

At this point, it was a little too late to stop. Yes, I could have told her I didn't have any, but by now I was sure she wouldn't stop before I had told her exactly what I was writing. And what the hell. She didn't know me and we were most likely never going to meet again. If I told her the truth, she would probably be too embarrassed to ask more questions anyway.

'Well, I have some of the stories I'm working on, on my computer, but you might not like the kind of stories I write.'

'Why?'

'Well, they're erotic stories. Some would call it pornography. Some people like it, other don't. But I do have female readers.'

A moment of silence followed. Then she giggled.

'Why?'

'There are several reasons why. I like erotic stories myself. There are a lot of people reading them, which means that there is a greater chance to get feedback. Without feedback, I'll never become better at writing. Besides, the letters from the readers are the only reward for writing in the first place, so why not write something that a lot of people read. The potential audience for surrealistic, modern poetry would probably be limited and so would the feedback.' I answered, calmly.

'You don't look like someone who writes erotic stories.' She said, blushing a little.

'Do I really look that bad? If I lost 15 pounds, I'd be the same weight as when I was 18 and there is only a few grey, ok, there are some grey hairs.'

'No, it's not that. . . . but I've never. . . . I don't know what I had expected.'

'Well, never judge a book by the cover.'

'No, I guess not. Can I read one?'

'I don't know. I have never been this close to a person who has read my stories. Nobody knows I'm writing them. I. . . .' I was suddenly terribly embarrassed. I was so used to hiding behind a pseudonym.

'Please,' Sofie said, pleading with her eyes as well as her words.

'I'll think about it. But don't say I didn't warn you,' I said, mainly to hide my own embarrassment, I guess.

We finished the dinner and had a cup of coffee, before we went back to the reception. I didn't get a chance to ask the clerk about the room.

'I'm sorry sir, but there isn't a single room available.' He said, as soon as he saw us.

'Do you really mean to tell me that you want me to go back to the airport to get another hotel. I might as well sleep in the lobby.'

'Well, I can get you a room at a hotel near Russell Square. There's also a Forte Crest hotel and they have a room for you. We will pay the cab.'

'It's in Camden. It. . . .'

Sofie pulled me away from the desk.

'I don't mind sharing the room,' she whispered to me. 'There were two beds and it's only for one night. You don't have to go into the city because of me.'

Now, when we first met, I wasn't thinking about adultery at all, but the conversation at dinner had sort of opened my mind to the possibility of more than just a dinner together. Not only did the thought cross my mind, I also began wondering if Sofie was walking down the same lanes in her mind.  

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. Besides, I want to read one of your stories. Do we have a deal?'

'OK.'

'Free choice of story?'

'You drive a hard bargain,' I laughed. 'OK, I certainly would like to avoid going into town at this hour, just to get up at 5.'

I returned to the clerk. 

'We'll share the room.' 

'Oh, good,' he sighed and smiled with relief.

His trouble wasn't over yet and neither was ours. When I opened the door to the room, I was once again met by a heat wave. I checked the air conditioner and it looked and sounded as if it was running at full speed. 

'Oh Goddammit!! The air conditioner is out of order. Just when we need it the most.'

I was seriously about to lose my temper now. 

'Let's open a window,' Sofie brilliantly suggested. 

But it was no use. The windows didn't open. In any other English hotel, the windows would be fitted as if they were round windows put in a square holes. I mean, try visiting London in the wintertime and you'll be blown over by the cold draft from the windows. The English think they live in a subtropical climate or maybe they never really realised that they had come back from India. They even have the pluming on the outside of the house. OK, it's easier to get to, when you need to melt the ice in the pipes, but honestly. 

I tried hard to control my temper and reserve the upcoming storm for the hotel staff. 

'Sofie, why don't you read a story while I go down to the reception and strangle the manager. I'll show you where to find them.'

I took out my laptop and showed her what directory the stories were in. She dropped down on the bed and began looking at the stories, while I went down to the reception. 

I could see it from the look on his face: he already knew it. 

'The air conditioner.' I said calmly.

'Ehhh yes. I'm terribly sorry, sir. There is a problem, but we can't get it fixed until tomorrow.'

'It is very hot in that room and I can't seem to open the window. The handle is missing. Could you get me a handle or something, so I could open the window?'

'I'm sorry, but you can't open the window. That would disturb the air conditioning.'

That was it. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

'But the bloody air conditioner doesn't work anyhow.' I yelled at him.

'Ehhh no. I'm sorry. Yes. . . but it's not possible to open the window. Sorry.'

I was about to say a lot of things, fast and loud, but I gave up.

'OK. Well, I'm not paying the bill, so I think I will just throw the television through the window. That should open it.' I said sarcastically.

The clerk looked at me, terrified.

'Oh no, sir. Somebody might get hurt.'

I couldn't help laughing.

'My good man. Do you honestly believe that I would throw a TV out of the window from the 9th floor?'

'Well, sir. We meet all kinds of people from all walks of life. You would be amazed if you knew what people do. I assure you, it's nothing personal. We just have to take everything our customers say seriously.'

'OK, I promise: no TV through the window. But I might seriously consider filling the tub with ice.' 

'There is an ice machine down the corridor to the left on your floor, sir' He answered, without as much as raising an eyebrow. This guy really didn't have any sense of humour whatsoever. 

When I returned, Sofie was still lying on her tummy, reading. She must have been used to the heat. My shirt was soaked in sweat, but she seemed to be dry. She didn't react when I told her there was nothing to do about the heat, just nodded and kept on reading. I wondered what she had found. She obviously was very occupied by it and was a fast reader. Her eyes scanned down over the screen fairly fast. 

I looked at my soaked shirt and decided that a shower would be the optimal thing for me. I told her and she nodded again, without taking her eyes off the screen.

It was great to get a long, cooling shower and I felt like a new man, when got out. The room almost felt cooler, when I came out with a towel around the waist. I had only just got out of the bathroom, when there was a knock on the door. I opened the door as a reflex, not considering the dress code in such a situation. Outside was a nice, young girl in hotel uniform, staring timidly at me.

'Eh. . . . sorry to disturb you. . . . I mean. . . . with compliments from the hotel. . . .' 

She handed me a tray with a bottle of champagne in a cooler and two tall glasses. 

'Well, thank you.'

'Sorry to disturbed you,' she said as she backed away quickly, blushing fiercely. 

'Not at all. I had just finished showering,' I said, but she was already gone.

Sofie tore herself away from the screen.

'What was that?' she said and, looking at me, continued: 'What are you up to?'

'Well, as I told you, I took a shower. I usually shower without clothes; it seems to be a more effective way of getting clean. Room Service knocked on the door before I had the chance to slip into something more formal. They brought us this nice bottle of champagne free of charge. Whatever the story makes you think, I can assure you that my stories are fantasies and nothing else. It's not an autobiography.'

'Opps, sorry. I guess I wasn't paying attention, when you told me you were going to shower.'

Sofie blushed in the cutest way, just like a little girl. I put the tray on the bedside table between the beds and put on boxers and a t-shirt. 

'Fancy a glass of champagne?'

'I will probably begin to act silly, but what the heck. I never realised it tasted so good.'

She sat up and took the glass. 

'Cheers!' 

'Cheers.' 

'Uhm, it really tastes goooood,' Sofie said.

'Haven't you tasted it before?'

'No, except with dinner this evening- I have always assumed it was snobbish rubbish, not really worth the money.'

'I don't know if it is, but it does taste good. Especially this variety.'

'What is it?' Sofie said and stretched her neck to see the bottle.

'It's free.'

'Argh, I thought you knew something about champagne.'

'I don't, really. I just know the names of a few brands. But I do like it and drink it as often as I can.' 

Sofie looked thoughtful.

'It's funny, I have always read a lot and kind of admired authors, but now that I'm sitting next to one, I don't know what to ask him.'

'I take it you didn't like what you read?'

'Oh no, quite the opposite, I was surprised at how . . . . how much like a real story it is.' 

'Well, to me, they are real short stories and novels. Why should it be worse to write about sex than it is writing about violence?'

'I didn't mean it like that. . . . well ok, I did, but . . . . I don't know, I don't like violence but I like crime stories, even when they are little bloody. I guess it's the way we are brought up. Sex is sinful.'

'So is violence, at least according to the bible. "Thou shall not kill" or something like that.'

'Yes but. . . . sex is more sinful. That was why Adam and Eve were thrown out.'

'I know, but it's still wrong. Anyway, I take it as a compliment that you were surprised the way you were.'

She looked thoughtful again. I poured another glass of champagne; the first one seemed to have evaporated in the hot room.

'Where do you get the ideas? I mean, if it's not something you have done yourself, where do you get them? I read part of a story about a couple of teenagers, who kind of discovered sex together, when they were rehearsing some scenes from a school play.'

'Some of it is actually my own memories. Some of it is things others have told me about their lives and fantasies. Sometimes, I just pick up pieces of conversation. It's amazing what people talk about in public.'

'You mean you eaves-drop on people?'

'I don't need to do that. One time, I was standing outside a shop, waiting for my wife and there were these three girls, sixteen or seventeen, talking about, how they like a boy to make love to them. I was only 6 feet away and I could hear every word.'

Sofie just looked at me in awe so I continued.

'Of course, it all melds together in my fantasy. I rarely use specific persons or events. Usually, I blend them in with each other to form new persons. It's too risky to take something a person has told me and put it directly into a story. You can do it, if it is somebody's fantasy, but not real events and people.'

'I rarely discuss my sex life and fantasies with my friends and certainly not with male friends,' Sofie said, blushing but daring because of the champagne. 'How do you get somebody to tell you. Is it something like "Sex, lies and videotapes"?'

'No, not really. Sometimes, readers write to me to comment on my stories. I always reply and sometimes it turns into a longer exchange of letter and maybe a friendship. They tell me about their life and fantasies. Sometimes, readers write to me with a particular fantasy they have and ask if I can write a story about it. I generally don't write custom-made stories, but I do get inspirations that way. But it takes more than one or two lines from a reader. Most of it comes through exchanging more letters and gaining some sort of confidence in each other.'

The champagne had loosened Sofie up and she lay down on the bed, facing me.

'If I told a fantasy of mine, would you write a story about it? For me? Have you ever done that, written a story for somebody?'

'I have, on special occasions. It depends on the person and on the fantasy. It has to be something I can relate to, too.'

She was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled.

'I think I would like that, but I'll write it to you. I don't think I can tell you, face to face.'

'It's ok. Do you want my e-mail?'

'I already have it. It was in one of the stories.'

'How many did you read?'

'Three.' She said and suddenly blushed fiercely. 

'You read "The Play" or a part of it. What were the other two?'

'One was a very short, unfinished story about a guy doing calligraphy on a girls body. It was kind of weird.'

'It's only a sketch. I don't really know what I want to do with it. What was the last one.'

'It was . . . . some really kinky sex-scenes. I couldn't really make out the story. Some kind of orgy.'

'Did it shock you?'

Sofie giggled. 

'No. I have some wild dreams sometimes. But I could never tell anybody.'

'Well, I think you have read the story I write on, when I get too worked up and need to let off steam. I try to keep my stories realistic, but sometimes my fantasy just runs wild. In the beginning, I put it into the stories and then deleted it afterwards, when I read them, because it didn't fit in. But it took too long to edit the stories, so now I have this story I use, when I need to see something in print or just need to let off steam. It's not for publishing.'

I looked at her. Her face was flushed and her eyes shining feverishly. Maybe it was just the heat in the room, but I think it was something else too. 

'I . . . . I would never want to do most of the things you . . . . put into that one, but. . . . it was kind of exciting to read it. . . . I mean, even if you don't want to do . . . .stuff, it can be. . . . exciting to dream about it.' 

Sofie looked timid and very excited at the same time. She hadn't finish, I could feel that.

'. . . . Sometimes, I feel like. . . . doing something . . . . wild. . . . live some of my fantasies. Like, I would never want to be spanked or hurt or anything but. . . . I think I would like. . . . to try and . . . . submit myself completely to a man. . . . to be his. . . . to let him control me and do whatever he demands of me.'

She hid her blushing face in her hands.

'Oh why am I telling you this? It's so embarrassing,' She giggled, obviously embarrassed.

'You've just read my fantasies. You don't need to be so shy about yours.'

This conversation was taking an interesting turn. I am a faithful husband, but a man can only take so much, before nature takes over. This could prove to be just that "so much".

'You are. . . . I'm not used to it. . . . It's. . . .' She took a deep breath and looked at me. 'OK, have you ever tried completely dominating a girl while making love to her?'

'No, I haven't,' I answered truthfully.

'Do. . . . you want to?' she asked and looked down timidly.

I didn't mean to tease her, but it came out like that.
 
'Depends on the girl.'

'You know what I mean,' she frowned.

'I didn't mean it like that. I meant if the girl was willing to do it.'

Sofie looked down again.

'She is.' She whispered quietly.

'Do you really trust me? You have only just met me and you have read through some of my fantasies. Are you sure you trust me enough to hand over complete control to me?'

'I trust you. If you can write stories like the one with the school play, you can't be all that bad.'

'You can trust me and we can stop at any time you want, but you have no way of knowing that for sure. I might tie you to the bed and call for somebody to come and fix the air conditioner. You have no way of knowing.'

'Female intuition.'

Sofie got up and stood in front of me.

'Take me. Take me in any way you want. Make me yours this night.' She said, melodramatically.

We both laughed, but the mood changed completely. Words were suddenly obsolete. I got up and embraced her.

'We can stop whenever you want to,' I whispered to her.

She didn't speak, just nodded to acknowledge. 

I began undressing her, pulling her T-shirt over her head. As I had expected, she was a little chubby. Her bra was plain, white cotton, containing a nice pair of small breasts, which I unwrapped next. I stepped back a little to admire her breasts. They were so beautiful, pointing slightly upwards, playfully.

Sofie stood passively, not daring to look at me, maybe as part of the game, maybe because she was a little embarrassed. I reached out and touched her nipples lightly, making her shiver. Yes, she was pretty, although not the typical heroine of an erotic story. Her jeans were hugging her hips tightly, making her soft tummy look more chubby than it really was, but I found that cute. 

I continued to unwrap this gift from heaven. It was difficult to open the button in her tight jeans, but I succeeded without pinching her too badly. Down and off they went, leaving her only covered by a pair of white cotton panties. A distinct, dark patch was clearly visible between her legs and a few hairs had escaped the panties. She didn't shave or trim her pubic hair. 

'Turn around,' I commanded her. 

She turned, but there wasn't really room enough between the two beds. 

'Stand on the bed.' 

 The soft mattress almost made her lose her balance and she giggled, falling out of the submissive role for a second, but resuming it when she had steadied herself close to the edge of the bed. . . . standing with her lovely back to me, her legs slight apart.

'Bend forward and hold on to your knees.'

Sofie complied and the panty fabric was stretched out over her lovely arse. I ran my hands over the two globes, moving down to the hot, naked skin of her upper thighs. Her inner thighs were so smooth and soft. I moved up again and traced the rim of her panties from the slightly damp crotch up over her buttocks. With both hands I pulled the panties down over her arse, but not all the way down. I left them just below her buttocks. 

Considering her unstable position, I caressed her soft buttocks very lightly, then ran a finger down along the crack. I wriggled it in between the panties and her damp, hot pussy lips. Sofie swayed dangerously but kept her balance. She wasn't just damp. When I retracted my finger, it was glistening with moisture. 

'This really turns you on, doesn't it?' I asked her.

'Yes,' She whispered.
  
'Are you thinking of all the things that could happen now?'

'Yes,' she said, her voice trembling.

'Does it frighten you?'

'Yes,' she whimpered.
 
I slipped my finger in between her pussy lips, upward into her vagina.
 
'But you still want to do everything I tell you to?'

'Yes.'

'Tell me,' I said, slowly moving my finger in her.

'Please, Make me do everything.' She moaned. 'Make me a person in your story. Use me as you want to. Even if it hurts a little. I want to be yours completely.'

'I get no pleasure from hurting you, and neither do you. I want to give you pleasure in ways you haven't tried before.' I said.

I didn't really know what she had or hadn't done before, but it sounded good. OK, maybe a little too much like a late 19th century novel. I might have asked her to call me master or something like that instead, to emphasise my dominance, but it wouldn't feel right. This was a story, a story we were to write this night with her as the main character. I wasn't going to use her for my pleasure, I was going to use her for our pleasure. This story was going to be for both of us.

I retracted my finger and pulled her panties down to her knees.

'Take your panties off and spread your legs a little more.'

With both hands on her hips, I leaned down and kissed her buttocks all over. The sweet fragrance of her perfume mixed with the musky fragrance of her arousal. A fine film of perspiration covered her. I licked her buttocks, close to her pussy lips and tasted the salty sweat. Licking closer, almost over her puffy lips, I tasted a different taste, the sweet taste of her sex. I felt a strong urge to push her over and bury my face between her legs, but I waited. I spread her buttocks and kiss my way down from the top of the crack to her pussy lips. Sofie began to sway again, her legs trembling. 

'Get down on the floor again and face me.' I said, still holding her hips to steady her.

She turned and jumped down on the floor, making her breast jiggle a little. My God, those small breasts were lovely. 

'Take off my shirt'

Obediently, she pulled my shirt over my head, stepped back and looked down, not at the floor, but at my boxers. I didn't order her to take them off me. Instead, I reached for the champagne cooler and dipped my fingers in the ice water. Then I put my cold fingers on her nipples. Sofie gasped and her nipples hardened instantly between my fingers. 

I had to taste her nipples. I had to taste all of her but right now, I had to taste her nipples. I leaned down and sucked her left nipple into my mouth. The rubbery texture mixed with the salty taste was so exciting. I lashed my tongue over it, flipped it from side to side and bit it lightly. I did everything I possibly could imagine to her lovely nipple. She squirmed, pressing her thighs tightly together and bucking her hips, like I was giving her small electrical shocks.  

Her right breast was just as lovely as her left and I paid as much attention to it as I had done to its twin. I was reluctant to let go, returning again and again, just when Sofie expected me to stop. Finally, I had to get up, because my back was hurting from the awkward position. 

Sofie was blushing and hot, her hair wet from sweating, clinging to her face. She looked up at me with shining eyes, filled with anticipation.  

'You are so beautiful,' I said as I looked at her. 

'Thanks, but. . . .'

'No but. You are very beautiful. You don't look like a model, but that's what I love, a real beauty, not some artificial product made of makeup and silicone. You are a true beauty.'

Sofie looked at me, blushing. A brilliant smile spread over her face, making her eyes sparkle. 

'You really mean it.'

'Yes I do,' I said, then tried to get back in the dominating role. ' Now, lie down on the bed.'  

Sofie jumped up on the bed and lay down on her back. Up to this point, it wasn't really a problem to act dominating, but I wondered if I could go through with it in a convincing manner. It was so easy to write about it, but to actually do it was something else. Some of the things I had written would sound and look absolutely ridiculous, if they were to be acted out in real life.

'Sofie, have you ever showed a man, how you touch yourself?'

'Touch myself?'

'How you satisfy yourself?'

'No,' She sounded slightly choked. I think she knew what I was going to tell her to do next. 

'Show me.'

Her mouth formed the word "no", but not a sound came out. She hesitated for a second, then lifted her hands and spread her legs a little. Her hands moved up her inner thighs, then she hesitated again. She closed her eyes and put both hands on her pussy, spreading the lips with her left hand and sliding a one finger in between.

'Oh God,' she gasped as her finger slid up to touch her clit. 'I'm so wet.'

'Spread your legs and let me see how wet you are.' 

She obediently spread her legs a little more.

'Does it turn you on to show yourself off?' 

'Yeess,' she gasped and spread her legs wide apart.

'Show me how you use your fingers in your pussy.'

'Oh god. How can I do this in front of you?' 

'Because you want to show me how hot you are.'

Sofie slipped a finger into her vagina, still rubbing her clit with her other hand. I had always wanted to see a girl masturbate in reality, not just on film.

Somehow, the porn industry's average masturbation movie clip didn't look very real to me. This was the real thing. But I wanted to bring her off myself, so I had to stop her soon. 

'Do you touch your arse, when you masturbate?'

'No,' She moaned, then changed her mind. 'God, it's so embarrassing. Yes, I do.'

'Show me.'

She hesitated, but she was too excited to stop now. Slowly, she pulled the wet finger from her soaking vagina and, pulling up her legs, she began to circle her tiny arsehole. Her breathing was ragged and it wouldn't be long before she was going to come. 

'Stop!' I said and knelt on the bed between her legs. 

She didn't comply immediately, so I pulled her hands away and held them. Sofie opened her eyes and looked at me with a glassy stare. I considered for a moment if she was expecting me to punish her for not reacting promptly, but it didn't feel right. Still holding her hands, I leaned down and kissed her inner thigh.

'Do you like to have a man eat your pussy?'

'I don't know.' She gasped, shivering each time my lips touched her thighs, closer and closer to her pussy. 

'Have you fantasised about it?'

'Yeeess.'

'Do you want me to do it?'

'Yeesss.'

'Tell me what you want me to do.'

'Lick my . . . . pussy. Please. Eat me, bite me, just make me come.' She wailed.

My lips had reached her pussy. I planted a hard, craving kiss on her swollen, hairy lips before I darted my tongue and began to explore the folds and crevices. The effect was staggering. Sofie raised herself from the bed, pushing against my mouth. She whimpered loud and strained her muscles. I could feel the pull in her arms. This was happening faster than I had expected. 

I sucked her clit into my mouth, rubbing my tongue hard against it. Sofie threw her head from side to side. Her body stood like a fully bent bow, ready to send the arrow off. Her stomach began convulsing and a hissing sound told me the arrow was about to leave the bow. Her thighs closed around my head. She ground herself against me, rotating her hips. I held on to her hands and kept sucking her clit until she released my head and she begged me to stop. 

I crawled up to her and cuddled her, giving her time to recover. It took a couple of minutes for her to get back to earth.

'It was fantastic,' she finally said, when she had caught her breath again.

'You hadn't tried it before?'

'No. we. . . . haven't tried anything like that. I have only . . . . dreamt of it. One of my friends told me about it, but I haven't dared to ask my boyfriend to do it.'

'And you have never tried to take him in your mouth?'

'No.'

'Is it part of your fantasies, when you masturbate?'

'Yes.' 

She had looked a little tired after her orgasm, but the glow was returning to her eyes. 

'Open your mouth.'

She looked questioning at me, but opened her mouth. Slowly I brushed two fingers over her lips, tracing them all the way around before I put my fingers into her mouth. She closed her lips around them and sucked.

'Use your tongue.'

Her tongue swirled around my fingers. Slowly, I inserted the fingers deeper then pulled back, but she quickly sucked them in again. I was dying to feel her lips close around the head of my cock. Pulling my fingers from her mouth, I got up. Sofie rolled around to lie on her stomach, resting on her elbows. My crotch was right in front of her head. She could just reached my boxers and pull them down over my cock, while she rested on her elbows.

My cock popped out in her face, making her jerked her head back in surprise. Then she looked at the hard cock right in front of her.

'Rub it on your face.' 

She rubbed her face against my cock, smearing the precum on her cheeks and lips. Tentatively, she licked her lips and tasted the fluid. 

'Do you like the taste.'

'Uh huh.' Sofie hummed, still rubbing my cock over her lips.

'Open your mouth.'

She opened up wide without hesitation. Slowly, I let my cock enter, continuing until it hit the back of her mouth. Sofie attempted to get more into her mouth, or rather, down her throat, but it was no good. She couldn't suppress her gagging. I pulled back. 

'Don't choke yourself.'

'How do they do it, you know, take it all in.' She asked, still trying to clear her throat.

'I have read about it, but I don't think I'm qualified to give lectures.'

The dominant role was difficult to maintain. I couldn't really keep it up. I was probably not cut out for that role.  

Sofie opened her mouth again. This time, I didn't go deep. She sucked like a hoover. Her lips closed tightly around my cock and the foreskin was pushed back, exposing the head to her soft tongue. It felt really good, but not good enough for me to come. I love a blowjob, but it rarely makes me come. 

'Touch yourself while you suck my cock.'

She looked up at me, still sucking, but I could see a wicked smile in her eyes. It was me, ordering her to do it, but I was no longer "forcing" her to do anything. It didn't really mattered any more. We were way past living out a fantasy of hers or mine. Sofie spread her legs and slipped her left hand under her stomach. It was a bit awkward for her to rest on only one elbow, so I asked Sofie to roll over and lie on her back. 

She did it without questions.

'Touch yourself again and open your mouth.'

It was actually too late for me to order her do it. I knelt over her head and slipped my cock into her open mouth. This was a much better position because I cloud see what she was doing with her hands and I could play with her lovely, small tits. But in the long run, it was exhausting to hover over her head. My legs were beginning to tremble and not only from the exquisite treatment she was giving my cock. 

Suddenly, I lost my balance, just a little bit. I fell slightly forward and my cock was pressed deeper into her mouth, trying to enter her throat. I could see her throat bulge and her stomach convulsing from the sudden intrusion. A strange, choking sound caught in Sofie's throat. I pulled back instantly. Sofie swallowed hard a couple of times, took a deep breath and put her left hand on my thigh. One more time, this time deliberately, I pressed the head of my cock almost into her throat. Her stomach convulsed violently as she desperately tried to swallow my cock. Then she took her hand away from my ass to make me pull back again. 

Her right hand had stopped moving, while my cock tried to enter her throat, but while she swallowed hard to keep her composure, it began to move again. I was pretty sure it wasn't a pleasure for her to have my cock forced almost into her throat, but it apparently excited her. Me too, for that matter. It was something I had never dreamed of experiencing. She wasn't quite there yet, but my cock was still in her mouth and maybe the third time would do it. 

We did make one more attempt. I could feel the muscles of her throat massaging the head of my cock and I was so engrossed by her bulging throat that I missed her sign and I didn't pull back before I noticed that the muffled, guttural groans was sounding louder. It was only a question of a second or two, so it didn't cause any harm. 

I pulled my cock out of her mouth to let her breathe freely. She coughed and swallowed hard a few times. Her eyes were shining feverishly again.

'Fuck me.' She said, 'now!'

At that point, my other head began functioning again. Condoms! Shit, here I was, a responsible father, always telling my own kids how dangerous unsafe sex was and what was I doing, the first time in twenty years I had sex with anybody but my wife? All the things I shouldn't do with a stranger and I had forgotten all about condoms. I had written too many stories where I could rule out the possibility of venereal diseases or I had lived too many years in a monogamous relationship, where I didn't have to worry about it. Well, no matter what, we needed a condom now. And I didn't have any. I knew that the men's room in the hotel lobby would be a sure place to find a machine, but it would kind of break the spell. Shiiit. 

'Dam, Sofie, we don't have any condoms. We should have . . . .'

'I have some in my suitcase,' Sofie said and scrambled out of the bed. 

She had condoms? Of course. Her boyfriend was supposed to join her Saturday. Great. I was certainly not in the mood for a trip down to the men's room. The same desire that had made me forget all about the condoms quickly made me push away any worries about what had already happened. 

Sofie rummaged in her suitcase and found the condoms. She jumped back into the bed and handed me the condom. I immediately handed it back to her.

'You put it on, then. I'll keep the fire burning.'

I turned around facing her crotch.

'How. . . . How do I put it on?'

'Haven't you tried it before?' I asked, a little surprised.

'No. He always puts it on.'

I sat up. Sofie was ready to hand me the condom again.

'It's about time you learn. Sometimes, it can be a lot more fun, if the girl puts it on.'

I began to explain how the foreskin had to be pulled back and she had to make sure she put it on with the right side up. If not, it would be pretty difficult to put it on. And no air-pockets inside. She listened as I explain. When I had finish, I leaned back to give her room to work. 

She approached the task very seriously. First step was to pull back the foreskin. Using both hands, she pulled it back, then examined my cock to make sure it was pulled back all the way. She even licked a finger and traced the rim of the head, just to make sure. Then she took the condom and placed it on the tip, ready to roll it down over my cock. But before she rolled it down, she had to make sure the foreskin was pulled back one more time. Actually, she put the condom down again and just played with the foreskin. 

Realising that it would take her some time to put the condom on, I turned around again. Not because it was boring to follow and feel her "condom-training", but I was sure it would be even better, if I could explore her pussy while she was doing it. A moment ago, I would definitely have used my mouth and tongue to explore, but something in the back of my mind told me to behave responsibly and use my fingers. We've had enough unsafe sex. Besides, fingers could be just as useful. That was, after all, what we both used, when we were alone. 

Sofie finished experimenting with the foreskin and began to roll the condom down over my cock. In the meantime, I had distracted her a little, circling my finger around her clit. But as soon as she had finished, she began rolling the condom off again.

'I'd better try one more time to make sure I have learned it properly' she said, sounding very excited. 

I was beginning to have my doubts as to whether or not I would be able to handle one more of her training sessions. Her hands felt very good on my cock, when she played with the foreskin and the head. But what the hell. We was going to stay here all night and the way Sofie was acting, she might just be able to get my cock up one more time. 

Again, she spent a long time, making sure the foreskin was pulled back. Her fingers traced the rim and brushed down the shaft, just to make sure. Driving me crazy, that was what she was doing. Her warm soft hands felt so good. For some reason she also need to play with my balls a little to get the condom on. It was really driving me crazy. So I did the same. Like before, I circled around her clit with one finger. Tickled her opening with another finger and a third was teasing her arsehole. It didn't make it easier for her to put the condom on, but it was good for her to learn it under stress. 

She used the same condom, but when she tried to roll it on the second time, she could only get it half way. 

'It. . . . won't.' She gasped, very distracted by my finger. 'I have. . . . Oh God. . . . to take uuuuhmmm another.'

She hadn't put the rest of the package back into the suitcase, just dropped them on the bed. She opened another and this time she immediately began to roll it on. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to concentrate as I had snaked one finger into her vagina and one into her arsehole. As soon as it was on, she pushed back hard against my fingers. 

'Fuck me. I need to feel you in me,' she moaned.

'I want you on top. I want you to ride me,' I replied.

Sofie straddled me and I guided my cock to her opening. Slowly, she impaled herself on my protruding spear. God, it was slow. I felt my cock being squeezed in a vice. With agonising slow speed, she finally got me all the way inside. 

Her eyes had been closed while she descended on me, but now she opened them and looked down at me.

'Tell me to do something,' she gasped, sounding and looking so aroused. 'Tell me to do something naughty.'

My mind was racing for a moment, trying to think like it was one of my stories. I raised my hands to her tits.

'Touch yourself. Play with your clit and your arse while you fuck me.'

Normally I never used the word fuck. It was so vulgar, but it was very suitable in this situation. We both wanted to be vulgar. It didn't really turn me on to order her to touch herself, but watching her doing it was so hot. And it really turned her on when I ordered her to do things. 

Still looking down at me, she began to play with her clit. I could see it in her eyes when her finger made contact. Then she put her left hand behind her back and began to play with her arse. I could feel her fingers brushing over my balls. Deep inside her, my cock felt her body respond to the caresses.

'You are so sexy. Does it make you hot to play with yourself while I'm watching and my cock is deep inside you?'

'Oh God. It's so naughty.'

'Does it make you hot to be a really naughty girl?'

'Yesssss.'

'Tell me what you are doing.'

'I'm. . . . rubbing my clit and. . . . oh God, it's so . . . . I play with my arsehole.' 

'What are you doing with your arsehole?'

'Ohhh. . . . I . . push my . . . . finger into . . . . Oh God, oh God, OH GAWD.'

Sofie threw her head back and I could feel her finger enter through the thin membrane that separated the two holes. The finger on her clit was working hard and fast. Her pussy muscles were rippling around my cock, almost like she was moving a little, but she wasn't, which was really good, because I wanted this to last forever. It was so wild.

I had been playing gently with her nipples, but the excitement made me pinch them a little harder than I had intended, making Sofie whine.

'Yeess, pinch my nipples. Oh gaaaaawd.'

'Imagine there is a man behind you and it's him who is in you. Push your finger deeper,' I gasped, trying desperately to hold back.

'He's . . . . in my . . . . arrrrrse,' Sofie whimpered. 'You're . . . .both . . . . in meeeeEEEEEIIIIII.'

Her words turned into a high pitch squeal. Her finger was deep inside her arse. I could feel her pussy tighten around my cock. Her first orgasm had been quiet and intense, this one was an explosion. It was just too much.

I began to bounce her up and down on my cock with all my force, holding on to her tits. Sofie had to move her hand from her pussy quickly to avoid it being crushed between us. I think it took me about 30 seconds to catch up with her. Before her orgasm had peaked, I began to fill the condom.

The wild ride continued for a few seconds more, until my last, rigid jerk. Sofie collapsed on top of me. We were both gasping to catch our breath and we were soaked in sweat.

We lay in the aftermath for long time, while my cock dwindled inside her. We didn't have energy enough to move, when my cock and the condom fell out of Sofie's pussy. We were absolutely wasted. In the end, we had to get up. We were sticky and superheated and we needed a bath. We just showered then went back to bed. This time to sleep. 

Sleeping in a sauna isn't very pleasant, but the room cooled slightly during the night and the temperature was down to something like 25 degrees, when I woke in the morning. We had the ventilator fan in the bathroom running all night and I guess it helped a little.

We had slept in separate beds. It was simply too hot to lie close together. The wakeup call was at six and I was still very sleepy when the phone rang. I sat up and looked over at Sofie, nude on her bed. She looked just as pretty as yesterday, even with her hair clinging to her head. We had both been sweating like hell all night and surely needed a bath again. But first, I needed to relieve my bladder.

When I got back, Sofie was stretching her body and purred like a kitten. We looked timidly at each other for a second, then we both began to laugh. Here we were, two adults, acting like bashful teenagers. 

'Good morning. How are you feeling?' I asked her.

'Fine, but a little sore. I think I bruised something down there last night. It feels like somebody has pounded the bone with a hammer.' 

'I know what you mean,' I grinned. My pubic bone felt fairly sore too.

'We better get a shower and some breakfast. How about showering together? That will save us a little time.' She said with a smile. 

I seriously doubted the timesaving effect of showering together and I proved to be right, but it was still a great idea. Soaping and washing each other inevitably led to a lot of touching and we ended up in bed again, quickly putting on a condom. We made love, lying like spoons, side by side. It was nothing like the wild and naughty ride last night, but it was good and tender. 

We said goodbye in the baggage claim area in Copenhagen, both knowing that we probably never would see each other again. This had been a lovely little adventure, but nothing more and neither of us really wanted it to be more. 

Six months later, I got an E-mail from somebody, signing as "S". She had just got a computer as a present from her husband. I hadn't forgotten about Sofie and I was pretty sure it was from her, but there were no clear signs in the short letter. 

I replied as always and got a longer letter back, where she told me a little about herself, but also that she wanted to stay anonymous. But she would like to tell me some of her fantasies and she would be very happy, if I used them as inspiration for my stories. 

The first one took place in a hotel room with no air conditioning.
    


