Anna
I hardly remember anything after we touched down in Brazil. All I can recall is being jostled around as Luka did his best to place me from the inside of our cab to the bed in our rental, barely able to keep my eyes open as the Ambien I took hit me like a truck with no brakes. I never imagined that flying could be so petrifying, tedious, and exhausting all at once.
Seeing me wandering through customs like a lost child at the beach had Luka in hysterics until I threatened to begin crying. Everything moves so quickly in airports, and everybody behaves as if they’ve practically lived there their entire lives, sparing absolutely no patience for someone like me who spent probably twenty minutes looking for a bathroom that was practically right in front of me.
While my confusion and obvious inexperience were hilarious to Luka, he also found it endearing, guiding me through the airport and taking his time explaining things to me lest my brain short circuit as I set off the metal detectors with my bra clasps.
Waking up in this seaside luxury bungalow was more disorienting than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life, including my drugged-up airport experience. There’s a skylight directly above the bed, the sunlight washing over me as the waves crash rhythmically outside the enormous bay window on the opposite side of the room.
Luka is nowhere to be found, but I can hear the shower running in the master bathroom, making me feel a little disappointed that I didn’t get to experience it before him. There’s something that men, especially rich men, don’t understand about the desperately lacking quality of apartment bathrooms, and I never thought I’d be able to stay somewhere where there were two vanity sinks and a shower stall that could fit twelve people at the same time. Even the bathroom back at the mansion has high-powered showerheads on all three walls and above my head, which is admittedly overindulgent and pointless. More water isn’t going to make me that much cleaner.
The view from the bed is breathtaking, and I wonder to myself how there are people who spend their vacations backpacking or clubbing when they can just lie in bed and look out the window at the ocean. The sand is almost unnaturally clean, bright and white in contrast with the sapphire blue of the water.
I’m starting to hope that Luka doesn’t expect me to leave this place any time soon. I don’t need him to show off to me with expensive dinners and attractions. Just having him here would make this the best experience I’ve ever had.
Luka spends an ungodly amount of time in the shower, and I grow impatient, hopping out of bed in my white shirt and panties and carefully entering the master bathroom, knocking meekly before I walk in.
“Hey, you’re finally up,” I hear him say from the predictably huge shower stall.
I’m speechless for a moment as I take in the grandeur, seeing a marble clawfoot bathtub along the wall to the left, eclipsing another huge window with a view that’s just as enrapturing as the one from the bed. The seaside town glistens in the morning sunlight along the mountains, and a breeze carries the scent of ocean salt and street food. How does anyone get anything done here?
“You didn’t wait for me,” I reply, half-joking. Even back at home, Luka is notorious for waking up at unreasonably early hours for no reason in particular.
“I was trying to let you rest. I know how those pills knock you on your ass,” he says, smiling at me.
I blush a little as I remember the first time Luka ever gave me an Ambien, nearly forgetting my own name and attempting to call a nail salon fifteen times in a row at three in the morning. I should know better than to take pills, but Ambien isn’t the worst thing in the world.
“Hey, come here,” Luka says, beckoning me from behind the glass shower door.
I approach him cautiously. Is he going to splash me with water?
“Come closer,” he urges, and I hesitate.
I begin to take off my shirt and panties, assuming he wants me naked in the shower with him, when he holds up his hand. “No, leave them on and get in here,” he commands, and a wave of heat curves down my spine and pools between my legs.
I open the glass door, stepping under the overhead shower with Luka and immediately feeling my clothing cling to my skin as the water and steam attack the fabric. My nipples protrude, the faint pink of my flesh glowing from the drenched white of my shirt.
Without a word, Luka pulls me close to him, and I can feel his cock grow rigid against my wet skin as he presses his hips against me. He braces me against the stone of the wall behind me, squeezing my breasts and aggressively rubbing my nipples under my shirt.
I pull his face towards mine, kissing him and biting his lower lip as his hands quickly slip down my belly into my panties. The feeling of his fingers playing with my pussy sets me on fire, and I struggle to stand upright as he tickles my clit, just the way I taught him to when he really wants to get me desperate.
He pulls my panties down completely, tossing them into the corner of the shower and leaving me in just my wet t-shirt as he kneels in front of my naked pussy. He grabs both my hips and kisses them, biting periodically to keep me on my toes and leaving small marks along my panty line. Sometimes I’m tempted to tell him that he’s biting too hard, but what fun would that be?
When his lips connect softly with my labia, I’m rendered speechless as I feel his tongue work on my clit, carefully flicking the area just above and below while somehow avoiding direct contact in an attempt to tease me into submission.
And it’s working.
He continues to taunt me with his lips and tongue, occasionally breaking away from my pussy entirely to kiss my inner thighs as a means of edging me. Every time he can sense that I’m close to orgasm, he stops, and after
two or three attempts to hold me back, I’m unable to stop myself, and I cum hard as he holds me up against the wall. My legs fail me, and I slide down the wall to meet him on my knees, now eye level and vicious with lust.
He grabs my face and kisses me deeply as he had before, pulling me on top of him and sliding his cock into me effortlessly. The pressure of his girth inside me is almost too much to handle from this angle, but he gently works it in and out until I’m able to ride him without pain.
I grind my clit on the base of his cock, steadying myself by bracing my arms against his back and pulling him toward my chest. His hands find my hips again, guiding my motions to hit my g-spot.
I feel so much more connected to him now than I have during the other times we’ve had sex, and I can’t figure out why, but it’s making me so desperate for him that I would let him claim me forever if it meant I could always fuck him like this.
He slows me down, nestling his face in my neck and kissing me sweetly as we move together. I feel so messy with my hair wet and last night’s makeup running down my face, but when he gazes into my eyes, I feel like the most seductive enchantress on the planet. I’ve never seen a more pure expression of lust from any man, and I can feel myself growing addicted to it.
Without warning, he grabs me and flips me over onto my knees with my pussy high in the air, throbbing and desperate for him to finish me. He slides inside of me from behind, grabbing a fistful of my hair at the root and pounding me mercilessly until I feel myself begin to climb toward orgasm again.
He wraps his hand around my face and covers my mouth, stifling my screams of pleasure as he fucks me to climax. We orgasm moments apart from each other, collapsing into a pile on the shower floor in a mess of heavy breaths.
For just a moment, I go nearly deaf, and I can’t hear the sound of the shower running. I’m in a world of my own, lulled into a trance by the chemical soup of dopamine and oxytocin flowing through my bloodstream.
Is this what it’s like to really be high on pills? Does the whole world just need better sex? In a way, I almost feel like I’ve found the key to true happiness in such a simple, human act.