A KNOCK AT THE DOOR
Lee Ann Keple and Katie King
I sit cross-legged on my ratty old couch, shaking my head at yesterday’s encounter. Get out and meet new women writers, my friend said. Come for sushi with us—it’ll be fun, she said. Might as well, I thought. I wasn’t getting anything productive done with the one-two punch of a vicious case of writer’s block and the worst dry spell of my life anyhow.
I went reluctantly, ate raw fish, engaged in chitchat and was about to bolt out the door when I saw the little cutie with the hazel eyes. Our eyes met as she popped a piece of spicy tuna sashimi into her mouth.
An hour later and the table is cleared of everyone but us, talking and laughing about everything and nothing in the way only total strangers can. She pauses, tilts her head and asks me if I’m up for a little experiment. A stupid smile takes my face hostage, and I find myself nodding agreement before I can think of all the excuses to say no. She asks for my email address and says watch for her message, subject line Knock at the Door, then saunters out. I’m watching her posterior geography in a bit of a daze when I realize—I didn’t even catch her name. Idiot.
I fire up my laptop and check my inbox, just in case…
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 1 March 2014, 8:32 pm
Subject: There is a knock at your door…
You’re sitting in your living room trying to write when suddenly there is a knock at your door. You cross the room, open the door and see:
A) an appliance repair technician
B) a pizza delivery gal
C) a police officer
Welcome to my new series: Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure. Make your choice—then write what comes next;)
Shit-eating only begins to describe the smile on my face. I hit REPLY and start to type.
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 1 March 2014 9:38 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
Fantastic! OK—I’ll play along. Decisions, decisions.
C) police officer
My eyes travel upward from the spit-and-polish black oxfords, up the sharply creased pants, pausing slightly at the crotch line before appraising the fitted uniform shirt and the navy-blue peaked cap, and you say, “We’ve had another noise complaint coming from this location. Mind if I come in and take a look around?”
Me: (said loudly) “Of course, Officer. C’mon in—anything I can do to help Vancouver’s finest.” (Closes door and leans in.) “Tell me you have more than 20 minutes this time!”
You say:
A) “We can spend all the time I have talking about what I’m going to do to you,” or
B) “You can shut that cute mouth and loosen my tie.”
I read over what I’ve written and hesitate. My mind is racing with possibilities, but I barely know this woman. I decide to play it cool, and see where she takes it. I hit SEND.
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 2 March 2014, 8:33 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
B.
I let you loosen my tie. You slip it up over my head, unknot it and offer it back to me saying, “You may want to restrain me, Officer. I’m having the nastiest thoughts right now and could be a threat to public safety.” I shove the tie in my pocket, grab your hands and walk you into the kitchen, eying you the whole way.
I shoulder you up against the refrigerator and grab my nightstick. I stroke the smooth tip along your jawline, across your neck and down your shoulder. It feels warm—almost alive—in contrast to the cold stainless steel of the fridge against your back. You can feel my hot breath against your cheek as the rod rolls down along your arm over your chenille robe, making a detour under the curve of your left breast. My belt buckle presses into your right hip as the oak stick describes the curve of your waist, left hip and outer thigh. Lifting the hem of the pink robe and rolling my nightstick toward your inner thigh, I say, “I’m hungry, babe—what’s for breakfast?”
You:
A) cook me breakfast
B) push me away, throw off the robe, and drop to your knees
C) grab a ball whisk from the stoneware jar on the granite counter and get creative
Holy shit. She doesn’t waste any time. I would never wear a pink robe, but damn. Game on!
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 2 March 2014, 10:30 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
C.
“Are you ordering on or off the menu today, Officer?” I ask innocently. I push off the fridge hips-first, and without losing contact with your belt line, grind and turn slowly until my body has rotated around and my ass is warming the metal on your buckle. Your right hand instinctively comes around my waist, traveling up my belly to rest flat just under my left breast, index finger tracing a line over and above the black lace of my bra.
I apply the whisk to a bowl of half-whipped heavy cream sitting on the nearby counter until peaks start to form. I flick the whisk back and forth, fast enough that there is the occasional whirring sound in the air to punctuate the tapping of the whisk hitting the sides, faster and faster. You watch raptly while rocking ever so slightly from side to side against my back.
“I think it’s ready now.” I dip two fingers into the stiff peaks and scoop out a bit of the sweet cream. I reach my hand back over my left shoulder and offer you the first taste.
You…
Your choice!
I fall asleep thinking of inappropriate uses for dairy products, hoping that stirstick sends the next installment right away. I’ve been checking my email more and more during the day, as if this will induce the next paragraphs to arrive faster.
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 5 March 2014, 8:20 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
I lick the cream, then push my tongue into the web between your forefingers, sucking both fingers into my mouth. I turn you around so I can feel your breasts against mine as I push you against the counter and thrust against your belly with my pelvis. My left hand falls against a spice rack as my right reaches into your robe to encircle your waist and caress the small of your back. “A little spice with your cream?” I ask.
Your choice of spice?
A) cinnamon sugar
B) red pepper flakes
C) chocolate sprinkles
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 5 March 2014, 8:25 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
A.
You sprinkle some cinnamon sugar onto my upper chest and breastbone so that some falls into my lacy black push-up bra, your eyes twinkling the whole time. You drop your head and start butterfly-tonguing the spice, slowly moving over the warm skin on my lower neck and down the center, to the even warmer area between my breasts, darting from side to side, licking the top of each breast and allowing your tongue to roll over the top edge of the bra, then underneath. You are teasing me, and you know it. A small groan starts to build in my throat. As your attention is focused on my left breast and the taste of my skin mingled with the spice, I undo your starched shirt, one button at a time, from the bottom up. When I reach the top button, I pull the shirt open and off your shoulders. The shirt falls to the floor, revealing magnificent breasts straining against lingerie I am damn sure isn’t department issue.
At this stage, you remember:
A) the bowl of whipped cream
B) your tie
C) your nightstick
Your move…
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 6 March 2014, 8:07 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
C.
The robe has slipped off your shoulders now, and as my gaze falls on the creamy perfection of your skin, I can feel the fire building in my belly, my knees beginning to wobble. I have to do something to regain control. With my left hand I loosen your robe and reach around to stroke upward along the curve of your spine. With my right, I grip my nightstick, probing gently between your knees until your thighs start to fall open. In and out, up and down, the smooth dowel explores that soft warmth of your flesh. I press the other end of the nightstick against my crotch, feeling the sexual energy flow between us.
“It’s time for a change of venue,” I say. Let’s continue the party:
A) on the stairs with the nightstick
B) by the fireplace with the whipped cream
C) upstairs with the tie
Ohh—I can totally see her on the staircase. I retrieve the nightstick, look at it, look at her, and balance one end vertically on the stair just in front of me, nesting the side of the smooth, hard rod against her very wet lips. Carefully, I squeeze my upper thighs and legs together, reach down and cup her asscheeks, urging her forward so that she is pressed against the top end of the rod, which has now become our own private and personal sized stripper pole.
She moves slowly against it at first, exploring the give and take between the stiffness of the rod and its slight soft pivot from the small undulations of my back and hips moving in response to her grinding. The rising sweet musk of her scent and mine—
Wait a minute. That would never work. The nightstick would have to be four feet long. Scrap that.
Could we just be straddling each other on the stairs with the nightstick between us? Oh crap. My back hurts just thinking about that. What was I thinking? Fucking on stairs is uncomfortable.
Start again.
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 7 March 2014, 12:39 am
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
C. Upstairs with the tie
I reach into your right pocket to find your tie. It’s not there, but I take my time anyway poking around and rubbing your thigh through the cloth. I search all the pockets on the front and back of your pants and on your shirt before I eventually find it—taking your sighs and groans as signals in the best game of “You’re Getting Warmer” ever. Taking one end of the tie in each hand, I toss it gently over your neck, pulling it back and forth lightly across your hairline and upper back. I realize we’ll never get up the stairs at this rate. I fold the tie over itself and snap it against my hands. “Up the stairs, missy!” I say, and crack it once on your left shoulder and once on your haunch. “You know the way to my bedroom.”
I’ll leave the choice here to you—what happens next?
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 7 March 2014, 4:20 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
I do know the way. I chase you up the stairs. Sitting on the bedside table are two empty cartons of chocolate-chili and tamarind-mango gelato from the last stolen lunch we shared together. My taste buds fire, remembering how we shared the icy treats alternating spoonfuls between the sweet and the spicy. I lick my lips. I push you back onto the bed so that you are sitting with your legs dangling off the end. I get down on my knees in front of you, and place one hand on each knee, running my hand up your thigh, then down the side of your leg to the ankle. On the way up, I turn my hand and lightly scratch your inner thighs. My hands find their way to your belly and then move downward to the light thatch of hair between your legs. I twirl my fingers through the curly hair, and then push your legs open wide enough for me to bury my tongue in your essence. Time stands still. I lap at the free-flowing juices. My tongue is dancing in a private playground the way a seal frolics in the waves. I lick your inner lips and then make slow radiating circles out until I’ve traced the topography. As your arousal increases and changes, that landscape shifts, and I must re-survey to see what’s changed, darting around, delighted at every curve and texture. Oh no—your vagina is feeling left out so I rap on the door with my tongue, pushing in and out, and am rewarded with more of your oh-so-sweet nectar. Your pulsing hips and audible sharp intakes of breath spur me on.
You:
A) swing yourself around to have the opportunity to give as well as receive
B) urge me on in my efforts
C) reach for some of the ice cubes in the bowl on the bedside table
Ice cubes? Where the hell did they come from? How can there be unmelted ice? You know what? I sooo don’t care.
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 7 March 2014, 5:20 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
I am powerless to do anything but enjoy the ride as your tongue has its way with me. The pleasure builds inside me until I feel myself move beyond that point of no return and my hips buck violently as an orgasm explodes out in waves rocking me from the inside out.
I reach for the ice.
“Ice cubes? You can’t be serious—you know I hate the cold,” you blurt.
With a sly grin, I put a cube into my mouth holding it like an icy tongue, and “lick” your mouth and breasts. I can feel and see your nipples harden and hear your breathing get a little jagged. I retrieve your nightstick, going into some patter about a bomb threat and needing to search the area, grinning archly. I point the end of the nightstick at the main heat source in the room and start probing the edges, occasionally and deliberately grazing the stick past your hood and “detonator button.” I insert the tip of the stick into and out of you a few inches, teasing you and trying to keep you from going over the edge. Your heavy breathing says I’m failing so I reach for another ice cube with my right hand and start running it down your neck and over your breasts, bypassing your nipples. Such strange and enticing noises you make! I’d like to keep you on the edge for longer, but I’m barely hanging on myself, so I thrust the nightstick into your moistness, twisting and pumping it into you again and again. You explode in a torrent of gasps and contractions, and keep moving your hips.
What happens next?
A) use the nightstick as a double dildo
B) toss the nightstick and start scissoring
C) You look at me and know that my rational mind has left the building, and will do absolutely anything you want me to do.
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 7 March 2014, 6:03 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
I take A) followed by B) followed by C)!
We fall apart on the bed, panting joyfully.
I roll you over on your back and say, “My turn on top!” I kneel beside you, gazing on your naked perfection. I stroke your arms, one at a time, from wrist to shoulder, then I lean over you and brush my breasts gently against your upper chest, then up to your neck and cheeks, then down again. Your skin speaks volumes of poetry to me, and my nipples tingle with pleasure. I press myself against you, gliding up and down your torso, over your delectable tits, down amongst the soft folds of your belly. When our nipples touch, what a delightful shock! I climb on top to straddle you—I want to feel you against my pussy. I want to feel you everywhere. My hips start to grind against your belly, my breasts pressing against yours.
I’m feeling the heat yet again! I move my legs between yours and start kissing you from your eyelids downwards, spending plenty of time at your mouth. Your teeth, lips and tongue are a world of pleasure. I stroke your side down to your hips—ah, that’s where I want to be! Slowly I move downward, kissing licking and stroking the length of your body, until I reach your pussy, still warm and wet from fucking.
I open your pussy lips with my tongue and taste your juiciness, Up and down the ridges of your labia, swirling and tickling with my tongue as I stretch myself full length, my legs off the side of the bed. I can hear and feel you respond, and that excites me even more. I push harder with my tongue, listening to your moans and gasps as I pound my hips against the mattress. My tongue is on your clit now, a delicious piece of heaven, and I lick and suck until I can feel you coming. A shudder runs through your body and mine, as I dip my tongue into your sweetness. As your orgasm recedes, I lift my head and you say—
Your choice.
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 7 March 2014, 10:20 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
Unh. Mmmmmm…uh…phhhh…grr…uhuh. Waves continue to pulse through me to you, or from you to me, as I lie back trying to control my breathing. We are slick with a most potent combination of sex and sweat, and I haven’t the energy or inclination to move just yet. I have a drum between my legs that is causing them to tremble with aftershocks.
I crawl on top of you, hooking my right leg over your belly and right leg, and drape my arm under your breasts. I take in the full sight of you—the rise and fall of your chest and your magnificent breasts. The smoldering in your eyes: ageless, bottomless pools of bliss, wisdom, the pain of experience and the promise of what’s to come. Dear Goddess—I’ve been pleasured into a state of stupefaction! Words are not going to be my strong suit for a while, though judging by your Mona Lisa/Cheshire Cat grin, your lips still have some energy left.
“Tell me a story. Share one of your fantasies with me. I wanna know what else revs you up.” As you think about what to say, I start letting my fingers gently do the walking up and down your skin, contemplating the area under your breastbone, and the one below your navel… You:
A) share a fantasy
B) counter with a game of Truth or Dare
C) check your watch and say I think we have enough time left for a dirty shower too
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 8 March 2014, 8:30 am
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
I run my finger lazily along your spine, drawing circles through the sweat-slick on your back.
“Ah, the old truth or dare game, eh? Well,” I say, as I stroke my hand down your thigh, “to tell the truth, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have Madonna go down on me. I daresay she’d be quite proficient, although I think your sweet mouth is much more talented.”
I check the clock by the bed and give you a smack on the butt. “If we don’t wash some of this juice off, the citizens’ll smell the sex on me a mile away. Let’s grab a shower and I’ll, um, get your back.”
You roll off the bed and open the door to the bath. Yep, that tub is big enough for two, with a double showerhead. I can see a stack of fluffy towels and a basket of bath products and, oh yes, toys! I follow you inside eagerly.
“Like it hot?” you ask, looking at me over your shoulder, as you start the water flowing.
“Mmm, yes, indeed,” I reply running my hands down your back, cupping them under your butt. We step into the tub and I grab for the hand shower, checking out the dial for the water-massage setting. I stand behind you and curl my left arm around your waist as I play pulsing jets of water over your back. I can feel you relaxing against me as I move my hand over your breasts and draw you closer. My hips push into your buttcheeks as I run the shower jets along your arms and chest. The water cascades over your lush curves. I want to drown myself in every part of you.
Hanging up the showerhead, I soap up a sea-sponge, covering you with soft slippery bubbles. I run my hands over your body from shoulders down to your luscious ass. My hand slides easily between your cheeks, and I can feel the warmth beyond. My fingers touch that heavenly wetness, and I am lost again in wonder and delight, caressing the folds of your pussy. I can feel you responding to my strokes, and my heartbeat quickens again. I draw back just for a moment—long enough to reach for the basket beside the tub. The water is still pounding over us as I point to the contents, letting you choose your favorite.
What’s in the basket of goodies?
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 8 March 2014, 9:59 am
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
A loofah, a dildo, a butt plug, a nylon harness, bottle of lube and a rubber ducky.
Do you want just one, or all of the above?
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 8 March 2014, 10:02 am
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
Surprise me.
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 8 March 2014, 12:30 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
I smile when I see the yellow rubber ducky. His spelunking adventures last week had more than your feathers ruffled, I do recall. The noise he made was a little distracting…fun—but distracting.
I point to the butt plug and see your eyebrows raised in surprise. You know that’s never been my thing. I’ve noticed you catch your breath every time you touch my ass.
You reach for the plug and the bottle of lube. You open the bottle and start to liberally apply the slick liquid from the narrow tip and then over the three other ridges that gradually taper out to the base.
You watch me for reaction as you lube up the toy. I turn around so that I am facing you and take the showerhead out of the base. I direct the jets over my face and hair so that the very warm water gushes down my front, running my other hand through my wet hair and tossing my head to keep it from falling into my eyes. I lower the showerhead so that the stream is now moving down between my breasts, then through the tangle of pubic hair before disappearing between my legs. My skin is still wet and slippery, which I find out as I run my hand over my breasts, lathering them up with the white, soapy bubbles. I soap around one, then the other, in a wide circle, pinching my nipples and watching you watch me.
A) As you come closer with a big smile playing across your face, I say I’d love to hear another fantasy/bedtime story while you find a new home for that lubed-up toy.
B) You come closer and say “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time…”
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 8 March 2014, 2:22 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
B.
I pull out the harness and dildo and say, “Put this on.”
I watch you while you get ready for action—and I do too! I stroke the slippery little butt plug in and around my labia, making sure I get every surface covered with lube. My own juices are flowing now and add to the mix. The sight of the black webbing against your smooth, pale skin excites me, and my other hand steals up to my right nipple, twisting it back and forth. I lean back against the shower stall, watching you adjust the dildo as the water cascades over your shoulders and breast and down your belly, wetting the harness. I can barely stand when I am this aroused. When you are strapped in—and strapped on—I grab the tube again, and reach out to coat the length of the dildo with shimmering lube. I look into your eyes, and say, “I’m ready.”
I turn around, bend down and place my hands at the end of the tub. I can feel the warm water and cool air on my hot, hot pussy and I quiver with excitement, waiting for you to start. I wonder how long you will tease me before I feel those deep, strong thrusts.
You’re in charge now, and I await your next move.
To: stirstick@geemail.com
From: jabberwalker@notmail.com
Date: 8 March 2014, 5:20 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
I’d tell you I was ready too, but the words—any words—would catch in my throat. The combination of your beauty and your sexy confidence/comfort with yourself is potent enough. The sight of you bending over and presenting that hot primed pussy is intoxicating—so much so that I’m afraid I’ll erupt without touching you. I close the distance between us and press myself against your backside, dildo up and between us. I lean forward into your back, placing my hands on your shoulders and raking them from your smooth white shoulder blades down your back and sides. You moan slightly as my fingers come to rest on either side of your hips, kneading into your soft, warm flesh. My hands drift down between your thighs, moving them apart a few more inches. Your legs are trembling just a bit. Mmmm…the steam from the shower combined with the sweet and salty scents has turned the bathroom into a veritable sex hot box!
Hands back on the sides of your smooth buttcheeks, I pull my hips back a bit so that the dildo dips down and you feel it bounce off your left thigh. Taking the shaft in my right hand, I move it to the top of your pussy and drag the head deliberately and slowly backward across your lips. The moan is still escaping from your throat as I thrust into you. Your breath catches. Again I find myself on that precipice—wanting to erupt while wanting to extend this moment forever—that primal desire to have every inch of you merged with me and to feel every nerve ending of your body tingle and broadcast to me again and again. I pull back several inches and rotate my hips, pushing back and forth into you, plumbing the moist softness deep inside you. Deeper to the left, and then to the right, filling you and feeling your body’s response. My pussy is on fire from the heat as it rubs against your ass through the harness, as well as from the feedback from the warm wetness of your sex tight around my cock. I pull back slowly and then slam forcefully into you full length again. Slowly drawing out the head, teasing your lips and then deep in again. You push back against me as I enter you again. And again. Your hips thrust and pussy contracts, trying to suck me in farther, and it is too much. Oh god, I can feel myself going, and you along with me, and my thrusts get more urgent and powerful. I support more of your weight as your legs start to give and we buck wildly. The telltale noises rise from you— Oohh. Ooooohhhh. Oooohhh. I cry out and groan loudly as the first wave of orgasm rushes over me. You tense and then relax against me as you come, moaning as pleasure washes over you. Wave after wave of aftershock orgasms course from me out through you and back. Our hips continue to pulse into each other, then come to a rest.
I pull out slowly, and gently turn you around so we are facing. Plans to push you up against the wall and take you again at a more leisurely pace in the shower are put on hold as you look just a little light-headed. Taking your hand, I lead you out of the shower to the marble countertop with double sink. I place your arms behind my neck so they’re crossing and kiss you. Softly and slowly at first, then more insistently, I wrap my arms around your back and lift you onto the countertop so that you can lean into me as our tongues and lips and teeth commune and our bodies continue to sizzle.
What happens next?
To: jabberwalker@notmail.com
From: stirstick@geemail.com
Date: 8 March 2014, 7:15 pm
Subject: RE: There is a knock at your door…
With the cool smooth marble against my buttocks, your soft warmth pressing against me, I open my legs and wrap them around you, urging your hips against me as we kiss, deeply, hungrily. I can feel the dildo, now warm and slippery, against my thigh and I want to feel it within me again. You draw back slightly to position the head of the dildo against my crotch, rubbing back and forth, up and down. I look into your eyes, pleading for more, and with a sultry and mischievous smile you continue to tease my pussy until I am nearly ready to burst.
I can feel the heat spreading up from my groin as I lean backward, head against the steamy mirror, and push my hips forward to meet you.
I gasp as you enter me again, sliding in halfway up the shaft and then pulling out, as you ask, “Faster or slower?”
Through clenched teeth I cry, “Deeper!”
You’re rocking your hips against me as our torsos press together, breast to breast, belly to belly. I lose myself in ecstasy and I no longer know nor care where my body leaves off and yours begins. As we meld more closely, my legs wrapped around you, urging you even deeper, I grip against the dildo with my inner muscles, feeling your blood pulse as if it were through my own veins, hearing your panting breaths as if they were my own.
I rake nails down your back and run my teeth along your neck as—
There is a knock at the door.
Who could it be at this hour? I hear a throaty and familiar chuckle coming from the hallway.
I think my dry spell is over.