Autumn was in the middle of running errands before leaving town. She took out the trash, drove her cat Biscuit to her parents’ home, and put a hold on her mail. As she is cleaning out her fridge, she hears the familiar chirp of a notification on her Android phone and instinctively picks it up. The screen reads 10:36 AM on Sunday August 29th and there she sees it, yet another Tinder notification.
She knows she should’ve just deleted this app. What a stupid app of all sorts of men debasing themselves in the pursuit of sex. But she likes the dopamine hit of each notification coming in to remind her that all sorts of men found her chestnut brown hair flowing down halfway down her back, a light rose colored blush on otherwise ivory skin, and perky 36C breasts attractive.
The 29-year old realizes she shouldn’t click to see what sort of guy had swiped on her. She understands that she is going out of town tomorrow and won’t be back for several months. But as much as she knows she shouldn’t, the thrill of a one-night stand, something she has seldom done before, tantalizes her. She clicks on the user account and sees a handsome man: 30 years old, neat jet black hair, and an athletic create. His user account actually has enough witty writing that suggests this boy is equipped with some sign of intelligence life beyond whatever sex-riddled hormones that guide all men.
She recognizes she shouldn’t match with him… She knows she should just delete this godforsaken app and not match with Peter. Ugh, why did she give him his name. This is just some random stranger who probably could not care less what attractive woman he swipes on or meets with so long as she is eager to give him a blow job in short order. There is no reason to be attached to some user account because of a couple of attractive photos and a few funny lines.
But before Autumn’s neurons can fire off these rational thoughts, she feels her pussy getting wet at the prospect of a one-night stand with this specific man. Whatever evolutionary need compels her to swipe right, Autumn quickly one-ups herself when she messages him with a to-the-point, “What are you doing tonight?”
She can see the text bubbles appear on the app and irrationally so, she feels herself clinging to every moment hoping for an affirmative response.
She isn’t this type of girl. No. She prides herself as the independent type of woman who picks the men she wants to be with and when they don’t interest her any longer or disrespect her in anyway, she cuts them off with ease. She is not some damsel in distress waiting with bated breath for any man, much less someone she has never met before or even exchanged a single word with.
As she waits on Tinder, she sees another message coming in from her friend Anna:
“Do you need me to drive you tomorrow?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Autumn thinks to herself, “Logistics for tomorrow can wait…”
She sees the bubbles on the Tinder chat fade away and a text bubble appears from Peter.
“Quite a forward move Autumn. I like it though. What are you thinking?”
Autumn feels bold. She wants to be in control of even a small part of her life and she wants to dictate the terms to him, “8 PM at Meteor, and look handsome.”
Maybe she came off as too aggressive, but before she could renege from this burst of courage, she presses send and goes to her closet to pick out her cutest black dress that she knows would ride up perfectly on her ass and leave little to Peter’s imagination.
It didn’t take long for Peter to reply back and Autumn knew she had him when he quickly confirmed the date. She feels some exhaustion, both from all the random tasks she had completed throughout the weekend, but also from the adrenaline of setting-up a date on the night before leaving her apartment for a few months. She picks up her phone again and sees the time: 11:25 AM.
She saunters out of her oversized t-shirt and wiggles out of her boy shorts. She goes into the king-sized bed she bought for herself as a gift for her 28th birthday, and lays on it naked to absorb the comfort she knows she will miss when she goes out of town. Autumn feels her hand wander over to her pussy. She doesn’t feel fully in control of her body as she plays with her clit with one hand as her other fumbles around in the nightstand drawer looking for her vibrator. She hasn’t come in weeks and today she just feels the urge to let herself enjoy her body. If no one else can enjoy her body for the next six months, at least she should right now and maybe, if he’s charming enough, Peter can enjoy it for the night.
Autumn senses herself increase the pace as she thrusts her lithe body gently into the air. She feels a crescendo building with her fingers tapping the exact locations she knows will give her pleasure. She is getting closer and closer and as she edges herself, she allows herself to come down for a few seconds as she replaces her capable hands with the tempo of her trusted toy. She puts the vibrator in the same location and can feel again the deeply-denied sexual pleasures create and grow. She begins to discern her body become more sensitive to every movement.
Every wave of pleasure begins to overtake her, slowly at first, and moving to be quicker and faster and seemingly a continuous loop of sexual urges being taken to the edge of being fully realized. And as she closes her eyes and imagines the pictures of Peter she just swiped on, she can not hold it in any longer, she cums in a deep pleasure. She keeps trying to ride the waves of dopamine and oxytocin and extending them out a bit further. She pinches her nipples with one hand as she draws her fingers gently over her body with another. She feels the goosebumps and the aftershocks of the orgasm still bring her a sense of ecstasy that can only be beat when a man deftly pleasures her. She tries to hold onto this feeling because she knows that when she goes out of town and reports to prison tomorrow, she won’t be able to have this type of pleasure for at least six months.
That is why, she wants to make this final night, a wild one.
Even though Monday morning is just a few hours away, Meteor is abuzz with the giggles of a bachelorette party interlaced with the usual group of young white-collar professionals fending off the Sunday Scaries by participating in the rituals of dating. Autumn can smell the alcohol so clearly. She knows she shouldn’t have a drink, but she feels she needs the courage and a stiffer drink like a whiskey sour will do. As the alcohol flows down her throat, she can not help but let out a laugh. How did she come back to the scene of the crime? The bar where she had too many drinks, drove away even as her friends insisted on calling her an Uber, and ended up in a jail cell for the night facing much more serious consequences for the future.
But she likes this bar, and she has never struck out in getting what she wants when she is here. She gulps down the rest of her drink feeling the slight buzz of the liquor already. As she finishes her drink, she sees Peter. She’s been told that she can be a bit of an ice queen, perhaps even a bit mean to men, but Tipsy Autumn is anything but.
She flashes an instant smile and he reciprocates. He’s dressed smartly, but not too formal. He’s clearly fit and trim, but seemingly not an over-obsessed gym rat. She analyzes every bit of his appearance, his demeanor, his body language, and even his gait in the forty steps he took between the entryway and her table.
“Hey I’m Peter!” as he goes in for a hug.
She feels her head resting on his chest. His height is perfect, she fits perfectly. She tries to absorb the moment, but pulls away before arousing any suspicion.
“Hey Peter, it’s great to meet you!”
“You look absolutely stunning. Can I get you your next drink?”
She doesn’t want to seem weird and refuse a drink, but she knows she should not go further down a hole. She needs to report to prison by 9 in the morning and with one more drink she knows she would go from Tipsy Autumn to Drunk Autumn in a hurry. But Tipsy Autumn is in control. Tipsy Autumn hooks her arm with Peter and marches to the bar where she confidently asserts, “I hope you like tequila Peter.”
Peter looks a bit shocked but she can tell he likes it. As she signals to the bartender for two tequila shots, she feels him gently place his hands around her hips ostensibly to protect her from a group of rambunctious school boys at the bar. Tipsy Autumn giggles. A more sober-minded Autumn might have wondered that move was a bit too aggressive after meeting just 60 seconds ago, but Tipsy Autumn wants to escalate, the faster the better. She drapes her arms around his neck to look at him, batting her eyes in an exaggerated fashion to thank him for ‘saving’ her.
He laughs and they clink their shot glasses. The ball is in his court to escalate and he starts whispering in her ear while holding her close. She feels seemingly every hair on her arms stand up as a jolt of electricity runs through her body. She can feel her lace underwear dampen. His cock presses up against her exposed thigh and just a couple of layers of fabric are between her and what she wants for the night.
They take another shot and begin dancing and Autumn can feel each escalation even as she is awash in the haze of alcohol. Peter goes in for a kiss to a song where everyone else is screaming the lyrics. The energy of the moment feels so intense and he escalates it further as he brushes her lips with his as his right hand grazes her other set of lips. He knows she can feel her wetness and she eyes his smirk. He looks so handsome with his swagger and smile. She pulls him out to the back alley, a place she has been to a dozen times before and gets on her knees.
He stands with his back to the wall and looks mildly surprised but as she pulls down his zipper to put all of him inside of her mouth, he begins immediately to moan in pleasure. Autumn starts off slowly but adroitly increases her speed. The bass from the club is throbbing on Peter’s back as he is throbbing in her mouth. She can make out distinctly, “Oh Autumn” even amidst the woo’s of the bachelorette party yelling inside the venue. She looks up at him with doting eyes as he squeezes her breasts tenderly at first and with more force.
He pulls up his zipper as she catches her breath and helps her up only to pin her up against the wall to kiss her passionately. He holds down her arms behind her back with one arm as he gently tugs on her hair with the other. He kisses her neck which she knows will leave a hickey, but she doesn’t care. In this moment, she likes the idea of being marked, even if she is gonna prison in just a few hours. She begs him to kiss her lips and he obliges, again softly at first and with more aggression as she mews in increasingly louder pleasure. The rest of the night is a blur, but she knows she is going home with him.
Given her court ordered restrictions, she appreciates him getting an Uber for them to his place as she continues kissing his lips. His lips are so full and they feel so perfect. They stumble into his apartment, and she knows that everything that has made up in him while she went down on him will be in her soon enough.