My apartment is quiet, except for your breathing and your laughter. But the evening *started* with utter cacophony.
I’d arrived at the bar before you did, and it was far too crowded. Far too loud. Everyone was *so excited* for some reason.
I think we were there to celebrate something. But there were too many people and so I cut through the crowd and screamed to the overworked and under-dressed bartenders for liquor.
Maybe we were celebrating your birthday? Or was it mine? I knew some of the faces. Probably better than I knew yours. You were always mostly an object of admiration. Someone who always charmed me but disappeared just when I thought I’d have the courage to offer something *resembling* boldness.
The reasons for my being there faded away with each absurdly priced drink I downed. Soon I was passing from person to person, finding *for the love of God SOMETHING* to say to every last damn one of them.
And then there was you. Your long brown hair. Your skirt. Your denim jacket, which obscured only briefly the white spaghetti strap tank top underneath.
And your scent.
Even through the pissy fog of beer and whiskey hanging thick in the air I knew you smelled good tonight.
And tonight I felt bold.
Tonight I could *talk* to you.
And tonight you *listened* to me.
Something brought us together, didn’t it?
Maybe I was too drunk to remember I was mortal.
Maybe you’d drunk too much to remember it too…
But we settled in the corner, right by the pile of bags and jackets. The booths were legendarily enormous, and you were right up in the corner, and I was leaning toward you.
And you weren’t threatened… you welcomed more of my words. You drank them in.
I forgot I was mortal. And I leaned in… till our lips connected.
You tasted like whiskey too…
—
And my apartment was far less noisy. The only bodies were ours. My head was still swimming as I flicked on a light and ushered you in.
The common area was nice enough, but I shared the apartment with two others… so I was quick to welcome you into my bedroom… the clutter of which was deftly managed.
The floorspace was primarily occupied by my bed, and then by a small desk and dresser pressed up against it.
I was remembering just how human I was in this moment. That maybe it was about to fall apart. But then you turned to me, and I leaned in and tasted your whiskey lips.
It kept me afloat.
My hands found your curves deftly, guiding you down to the mattress and removing your clothing with efficiency. Soon it was just your bra and panties, and you were unbuttoning my shirt.
My mouth kept finding yours. I’d rather keep tasting you than ever be naked, but it had to happen.
My sad mortal body had to touch the air. And you were so warm… so warm and so smooth. My fingers keep touching you. But the air keeps pulling me back to the ground.
My lips are attentive. And gentle. I ought be delicate oughtn’t I?
I have you here now… I should savor it… I should treat you like the merciful angel who…
“Fuck me Daddy…” the words are clear as sunlight as you moan them into my lips.
“Fuck me…. Oh Daddy I…”
Blood begins to boil in my veins. So hot that the cold air around me no longer touches me.
My kisses are deeper… harder… my fingers strip you of your bra in seconds. My fingers are groping your breasts and your moans are filling the room.
Like pain and pleasure… but you beg me for more…
“Oh come on… please…” You’re begging for me… you’re begging for me…
My hand finds your waistband… I’m under your panties and my fingers curl up into those lips… Your voice leaps up octives…
“Oh yeah… oooooooooaaaoooohhhh…” I feel your hips grinding into me. My fingers plunge deeper…
Your teeth are biting my lips. You’re asking for it. “Oh my pussy’s so hot for you… oh you’re gonna take it? Hmm? You’re gonna take it? Oh…. *FUCK*…”
I’m harder and harder the more you egg me on. The more you remind me of who I was meant to be. The beast of carnal need that I always knew lived inside…
It was enough to let me turn you over… to yank your panties down… to climb behind you…
My cock throbbing with need as I guide it to you… a free hand comes up to your neck and I pull you up… till your back is against my chest… just as I’m entering you from behind…
You’re cooing with glee as my cock feels how *hot* and *wet* you are… I almost stop… but you keep making that sweet high pitched noise…
You keep calling me *Daddy*. And I keep going…merging myself with you… all thought of condoms and consequences lost to the sensation of rutting my throbbing cock into you…
Each press into you making you yelp out in that same pained pleasureful way…
Each one inviting me in… as I fall forward… pressing your naked body into my mattress… my hulking body atop you… thrusting… pressing… hands groping and grasping…
My voice grunting as I fuck you.
Deeper… deeper… harder… harder…
Again… and again… and again…
And the tone of my voice rises… I’m almost there…
And then… I’m complete.
Spilling all inside you… spilling out between your thighs and into the sheets… my veins alight with starts as I cum inside you.
A new cacophony finds its way to rest… our breaths tempering themselves as I collapse beside you… arms pulling your body close… your fingers stroking my forearms… and I’m again taking in your scent… falling asleep inside you.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ke23py/mf_a_newfound_confidence_fueled_by_alcohol