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the-original-b · 6 years

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This weekend, part One of Three

Jack sat at the hotel bar Friday evening, playing out the upcoming days in his mind while he considered the variety on display before him. He just arrived at the Holtsville Residence Inn not even half an hour ago, after having left his office at Ranger Capital, LLC in Queens when the sun was still up. Lane closures due to motor vehicle collisions and the legend-inspiring Rush Hour traffic on the I-495 expressway had slowed his already-arduous commute to a crawl; he barely even unpacked his bags before casting off his tie over the nearest chair and heading to the bar to try and relax. His mirrored aviator sunglasses still sat in his sport jacket's front pocket.

He would have to sneak in whatever relaxation he could get over the weekend before he returned to his luxury rental in Commack six miles west, which he could just barely afford after bills, groceries, and his gym memberships were paid for. He once considered downsizing to a studio, but enjoyed the bragging rights he as a young professional was granted by living where he did. It came with the lifestyle, he told his peers. As division supervisor for a high-profile firm like Ranger, he had the makings of the dream setup--the mid-size sedan and cozy living space with enough leftover income to go out every so often, or really splurge and buy himself something nice once a month. He of course omitted the long hours, uninteresting work, and weekend conferences with the heads of the parent company--Nassau Holdings--like the one tomorrow that he just checked in for today.

And of course there was the fact that he was still, painfully, single. Through it all, Jack couldn't help but dwell on how much this weekend was going to suck.

A woman's voice pulled him away from his thoughts. "Hey there, traveler," she said to him. "Can I buy you one?"

He instantly recognized her voice. Anne, his immediate superior only a few years his senior, took a seat next to him. She was much more relaxed than he was, and dressed in something that was much less than appropriate for the workplace. "Sure," he said. "As long as Chuck is paying."

At this they shared a chuckle. "Please," she said, "you think he'd be that charitable? We were lucky the rooms didn’t come out of our checks."

"At least the bar is well-appointed..." He got the bartender's attention. "Maker's Mark, please. Neat."

Anne nodded. "That sounds great, I'll have one too."

That hadn't surprised him. In the eight months he'd worked directly under her, he'd learned she could drink any of his friends under the table.

Of course, opportunities to socialize outside of the office were rare, and usually came in the form of Happy Hour gatherings at the watering hole nearest to the office to commemorate someone's retirement. They could never really let loose together in front of their colleagues for fear of being judged--or worse, separated--by Chuck. But they'd found their fun in other ways.

Familiarity and commiseration paved the road for openness to bloom between them. Jack once boldly said if they were ever sent to a regional conference together they could save a few bucks by sharing a room. At the time Anne replied, much to his surprise, that the room service they ordered together would end up being more expensive. They flirted playfully like this for months, but he always let her lead it. He would allow her to set the tone and make sure he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries.

"Shame about that room service, huh?" Anne said raising her glass and grinning.

"Damn shame." Jack brought his glass to hers and they shared their first drink.

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nikki-writes-stuff · 4 years

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This Weekend

Jack sat at the hotel bar Friday evening, playing out the upcoming days in his mind while he considered the variety on display before him. He just arrived at the Holtsville Residence Inn by Marriott not even half an hour ago, after having left his office at Ranger Capital, LLC in Queens when the sun was still up. Lane closures due to motor vehicle collisions and the legend-inspiring Rush Hour traffic on the I-495 expressway had slowed his already-arduous commute to a crawl; he barely even unpacked his bags before casting off his tie over the nearest chair and heading to the bar to try and relax. His mirrored aviator sunglasses still sat in his sport jacket’s front pocket.

He would have to sneak in whatever relaxation he could get over the weekend before he returned to his luxury rental in Commack sixteen miles west, which he could just barely afford after bills, groceries, and his gym memberships were paid for. He once considered downsizing to a studio, but enjoyed the bragging rights he as a young professional was granted by living where he did. It came with the lifestyle, he told his peers. As division supervisor for a high-profile firm like Ranger, he had the makings of the dream setup—the mid-size sedan and cozy living space with enough leftover income to go out every so often, or really splurge and buy himself a very nice suit once a month. He of course omitted the long hours, uninteresting work, and weekend conferences with the heads of the parent company—Nassau Holdings—like the one tomorrow that he just checked in for today.

And of course there was the fact that he was still, painfully, single. Through it all, Jack couldn’t help but dwell on how much this weekend was going to suck.

Her voice pulled him away from his thoughts. “Hey there, traveler,” she said to him. “Can I buy you one?”

At this they shared a chuckle. “Please,” she said, “you think he’d be that charitable? We were lucky the rooms didn’t come out of our checks.”

“At least the bar is well-appointed…” He got the bartender’s attention. “Maker’s Mark, please. Neat.”

Anne nodded. “That sounds great, I’ll have one too.”

That hadn’t surprised him. In the eight months he’d worked directly under her, he’d learned she could drink any of his friends under the table.

Of course, opportunities to socialize outside of the office were rare, and usually came in the form of Happy Hour gatherings at the watering hole nearest to the office to commemorate someone’s retirement. They could never really let loose together in front of their colleagues for fear of being judged—or worse, separated—by Chuck. But they’d found their fun in other ways.

“Shame about that room service, huh?” Anne said raising her glass and grinning.

“Damn shame.” Jack brought his glass to hers and they shared their first drink.

Three rounds and ninety minutes later their conversation toured through topics from their previous jobs to the universe and their place in it, but inevitably returned to the two of them as it always seemed to.

“So, you got anything planned after this?” Anne asked. “Surely you’ve got more going on in your life than work.”

“I’m afraid not,” Jack said. “The pay isn’t enough to allow for much of that, and this month’s get-out-and-have-fun budget got blown last week… I’d have thanked Chuck for that in person if he’d come out here tonight like we did.”

“Oh, fuck you, Jack,” she said in jest, hitting his arm playfully as she did. “You’re no fun..!”

He resisted the urge to respond to her fuck-you remark with where and when. “Now, I never said that– just that loose funds are tight right now, and that the job ruined another perfectly good weekend.”

“I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow you to let work ruin this weekend—I’m taking you out somewhere. You live nearby, right? What’s there to do around here?”

“Well,” Jack confessed, “the night life out here is pretty dismal. I imagine this is as good as it gets around these parts.” He gestured the two of them and their now-empty glasses.

“Huh,” Anne added, running her finger along the rim of her glass. “Shame… How ever will we kill time during this terrible work-related getaway?”

Jack could swear he heard her suggest that they make good on the share-a-room offer he made all those months ago. “Well, we’ve got rooms here, right?” he said, only half-serious.

“Yes, we do… So,” she said, slipping a few $20 bills under her glass for the bartender as she stood up. “Mine or yours?”

Anne took his hands in hers as she led him through the doorway and toward his bed. He let his sport jacket roll off his shoulders—no sooner had it hit the floor than he pulled her in for a sensuous kiss. He was perfectly content to savor this slice of perfection, letting his hands run on their own up her sides and back while her arms found themselves wrapped around the base of his neck, resting atop his shoulders as she caressed the back of his head. Their lips held their embrace for several-second intervals, briefly breaking contact between kisses to let a giggle free, or allow their tongues to get familiar with each other.

Gently, he tugged on the zipper running up the back of her dress and slowly lowered it all the way to the bottom, down the small of Anne’s back to just above her rear as he kissed her still. In response, she moved to undo his shirt one button at a time, un-tucking it from his slacks and taking time to appreciate his musculature as her fingertips ghosted up his stomach and chest, finding their way around to his back. He reached up to her shoulder straps, slipping them over her shoulders and taking the time to let his hands explore her feminine curves as he helped gravity do what it did best.

Anne broke away from him, flashing him a coquettish grin as she backed away closer to the bed and snaked out of her dress entirely. Jack took in the sight—her divine figure clad in a matching set of dark lace lingerie—and wondered to himself how the hell he got so lucky. She shot him another sensual smirk as she turned slowly and allowed her hips to sway, knowing full well he’d be admiring the way her derrière moved as she did. Anne took a seat at the bed’s far end and kicked off her stilettos. She seemed to glide backward toward the headboard as she crossed her legs and beckoned Jack libidinously.

Anne bit her lip as she watched Jack roll out of his shirt and reach down to undo his belt, flinging them to opposite ends of the room as his slacks fell to the floor. An Adonis in his own right, Jack smirked as he watched Anne’s eyes move up and down all six feet of him, pausing at the growing bulge in his boxer-briefs. He strode up to join her in bed, fitting perfectly between her legs as she uncrossed them for him. They took a moment to feel each other’s warmth through the thin layers of fabric separating them. Jack’s eyes met Anne’s, holding the gaze for a solid three seconds before she reached up to pull him in for more hungry kisses.

Jack was not in any hurry, like most men his age were. He wanted to take his time and make sure Anne was enjoying this just as much as he was, if not more. He moved his kisses from her lips to her jaw, and down to the side of her neck. She let him know she liked what he was doing—she tilted her head back a little to expose more of herself to him and pull him closer to her, encouraging him to indulge in her as her breathing slowly, but noticeably fluttered and accelerated.

His hand moved slowly up along the inside of Anne’s thigh, stopping where he knew she was most sensitive and teasing her through the fabric. It didn’t take long for her to move the fabric aside and coax him further. He took her invitation, sliding his fingers into her wetness and curling them upward into a hook. At this Anne’s chest and shoulders heaved, her eyes shut tight and mouth hung agape. Jack curled and straightened his wrist in a slow, rhythmic pattern, moving Anne’s body almost all on its own. “Yes..!” she breathed into him.

He steadily moved his hand quicker, and listened as Anne’s breathing accelerated further to match the pace of his movements. A quiet moan escaping every few breaths let him know he was hitting all the right notes perfectly. And if he needed further confirmation…

Jack froze as he felt her fingers move up around his waistband and begin to pull down on his shorts. Anne explained, as she caught her breath, “You know I’ve never been selfish.” She continued to work on his waistband while he reached over to the bedside dresser with his free hand. Jack rifled through the top drawer feeling around for the condom box stored there.

Anne placed her hand on his wrist. She leaned up and gently bit his earlobe. “No need for those, handsome,” she purred, the warmth of her breath tickling his ear. She shepherded his hand back to her and reclaimed his lips with hers, moving aside the fabric that once separated them and guiding Jack into her.

Their foreheads met as their hips rolled in concert together, their breathing intensifying as the temperature rose. Jack’s hands, now free, found their way to Anne’s and their fingers interlaced. This was something they both wanted but neither had the courage to make anything happen before now. And not that they were living it, it was better than anything Jack could have imagined.

Anne lifted her hips off the bed and rolled Jack onto his back, quickly claiming her spot on top as she straddled him and tossed her bra aside. Immediately they got back into their rhythm, hips moving in unison and eliciting more than a few quiet moans from both of them.

“I’m close,” she whispered between gasps. “I’m really close.”

“Anne…!”

“I want it Jack..!”

“Anne, I’m—!”

“I want it all..!”

“Anne—!”

The rush. Time stood still during their ultimate moment together. She tightened around him and arched her back as he released into her in a shared cloud of passion and emotion that could be recorded in history as absolutely unforgettable. When the seconds began to pass again, Anne collapsed into bed beside Jack, looking lovingly into his eyes before burying her face into the side of his neck. Glowing as she seemed to, she was never more beautiful to Jack than she was in that moment. He briefly considered the possibility that it was her who bedded him, not the other way around as he previously thought. His grin widened as he realized he actually preferred to think of it that way.

They repeated their actions once more before drifting off to sleep that night.

Anne opened her eyes the Saturday morning to a sweating glass of cold water resting atop the night table on her side of the bed. She smirked to herself as she rolled over and sat up, finding Jack straightening his tie in the mirror.

“Didn’t take you for the love ‘em and leave ‘em type,” she said in jest.

Jack grinned as he turned around to acknowledge her. “Yeah,” he said carrying the joke. “I had hoped to be gone before you woke up.”

“Fuck you, Jack,” she laughed.

Now he was free to respond however he liked. “Maybe after the conference.” He strode up beside the bed and leaned over her. “I don’t want to be late for the pitch this morning.”

She grabbed hold of his tie and pulled him in for a deep kiss. “Make me proud out there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jack left to meet out-of-state investors for breakfast and pitch Ranger’s business model to them. He made it back to the Residence Inn right in time for the regional conference that afternoon, taking a seat between Chuck and Anne. When the time came for his input, he was thrilled to report to the Nassau representatives that his pitch went beautifully, and that they would have all the funding and more needed for the year’s expansion.

He and Anne checked out shortly after the conference was over. They returned to Jack’s apartment where they spent the rest of the day ordering takeout and watching old movies. Anne spent the night with him again.

A cozy breakfast in Huntington village is where they spent their Sunday morning, and they shared their afternoon on Fire Island before having to part ways that evening.

And when Monday morning finally came along, Jack decided the weekend couldn’t have gone better.

~written by Brendan M. Lubin, 2017

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Fucking... Brendan, how dare you destroy me like this? Thank you SO much for submitting this beautifully written smut! I wanna be Anne when I grow up, I swear to God. Guys, if you loved this piece (and I know y’all did) then check out @the-original-b; his poems are absolutely amazing!!!

#submission

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