Sinful

Tonight was the night she had been waiting for. She and Dante had gotten the wild idea in their heads one rainy day about a week ago. Get a hotel room for a night or two, stock up on lube, condoms, and plenty of drugs. And why the hell not? They’d just gotten paid, and it was a change of scenery from Dante’s place.

So anyway, she was waiting in the parking lot of Dante’s place, waiting for him to come down with all his bags, her engine idling. As the minutes ticked by, she grew more and more anxious - breathing a sigh of relief when her boyfriend ambled into view. “Finally!” Mumbled to herself, unlocking the doors.

“Took you long enough,” she teased.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, bending down to kiss the tip of her nose. A beat up leather bag was slung over his shoulder; he held his other bag, a green duffel, in his other hand. Part of him couldn't believe they were doing this. The other part was on the verge of bursting, he was so pumped.

"I got it," he said, lowering his voice. "Jugs hooked me up with his coke guy and I got it."

She was every bit as giddy as he was! In her possession, she had an ounce of some dank marijuana, and a fifth of Jack, plus her bong and shot glasses, with chaser. “Good. I think we’re all set, then.” No idea what else he had on him, but one thing was for certain: If they got pulled over, they would be royally fucked. But for some reason, the fear didn’t touch her; she felt relaxed, elated.

Fortunately, the hotel was a ten minute drive down the road into Naperville, and she was able to take back roads, wisely avoiding any cops. Pulling into the parking lot, she got out, grabbing the bags. “Alright. It’s go time.”

Shaking his head, Dante took the bags from her. "Don't think so, you." He flashed her a quick grin, eyes simulataneously scanning the parking lot and hotel entrance for cops. He had no luck with cops, and didn't want to push what little luck he had left.

Seeing that the coast was clear, he led Astrid to the entrance and managed to hold the door and balance all of their bags.

She had a printed copy of their reservation in her pocket, and so helped him through the door, before walking up to the front desk. “Hi, we’re checking in. The reservation is under Astrid Liljegren, L-i-l-j-e-g-r-e-n.” Resting an elbow on the counter, her chin in her palm as she waited, glancing back a few times to grin at Dante.

The woman at the desk ignored the glances, shuffling around and finding two room keys. “Here you go,” droned the front desk clerk. “Check out is at noon. We have breakfast from 6.30 to 8.30AM.” Her gaze was already slipping back to the mini television behind the desk.

“Thanks,” snickered Astrid, scooping up the keys and a bag, hightailing it to the elevators.

Chuckling to himself, Dante pressed the elevator button and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Think we've got time between here and our floor?"

She swatted his hand. “No getting any ideas! We need to stay discreet until we’re behind closed doors.” Oh, she was dying for this. But she wasn’t about to get majorly busted, either. And so the small girl lead him down the hall, finding their room - 813 - and unlocked it, opening the door ... finding a DO NOT DISTURB sign, and immediately hung it on the knob.

"Someone's in a hurry," he said, whistling innocently at he put their bags down on the floor. He flopped down on his back onto the bed, resting his head on his arms. "Man, that ceiling's nice." It was one of those bubbled ceilings, the kind you felt you could reach out and pop. As a kid he'd thought that all bubbled ceilings were caused by Vicks Vaporizers. Now he wasn't so sure, but thought the theory was still up for grabs.

He pointed up. "How do ceilings get that way?"

She dropped everything and locked the door, joining him on the bed. Stretching herself out luxuriously beside him, coiling an arm around his waist and pressing a kiss against his neck. “Mmn.” She blinked, following his finger to the ceiling. “Good question. I have no idea.” Really, the last thing on her mind at this point was the ceiling.

"No, seriously. Vicks Vaporizers?" He looked at her, keeping his eyes as blank and widely innocent as possible.

“Dante!” Whine! She puffed her cheeks out and exhaled a greeeeat big sigh. “Yes, Vicks Vaporizers. You win!” She went back to kissing his neck in an effort to distract him, to bring him back for their true purpose of being there; a hand lifting the hem of his t-shirt up to expose his stomach.

Biting his lip to keep from laughing, he caught her hand in his and kissed her brow. "So what first?" He sat up and removed wallet and keys from pockets, tossing them onto the nightstand. "Let's see what we've got." He grabbed the duffel bag and hauled it onto the bed, pulling zippers open and removing bags of coke, weed and accompanying bowls and straws.

Her gaze immediately dropped to the bags of cocaine, a wide grin splitting her features. “How about some Colombian marching powder, first? Then the reefer to take the edge off.” She was already pulling out a small hand held mirror, deftly opening a baggie and tamping a small pile of the good stuff onto the mirror. Fishing a razor blade out of her wallet, she set to work cutting out lines.

“Pack a bowl. We’ll need it a little later.”

Raising his eyebrows in surprise at her obvious former experience with the stuff, Dante did as he was told, breaking his weed and whistling a little Stone Temple Pilots. "Smell this," he said, passing the packed bowl under Astrid's nose. "It's haze."

Hey, she wasn’t a total cokehead! But she did enjoy it from time to time, albeit very rarely - she didn’t like to screw with it more than a couple times a year. She was in the middle of cutting down a few straws when she leaned in and closed her eyes, inhaling the heady scent of greens. “Aah ... Smells good!” She grinned. “This is so going to be worth blowing my entire paycheck.”

"Yeah, and then some. I took out a loan for some of this." He grinned at her, setting the bowl down on the nightstand next to his wallet. The last time he had done coke--he liked to stick to drinking and smoking--had been with Jugs, the only real cokehead he knew. That had been a few years ago, and he couldn't remember much of the occasion. He had gotten so messed up he had blacked out and woken up in the IOU section of Yale. So much for partying in the dorms. Looking back, he couldn't even really remember who he had been with or whose dorm they had been in. Now his binge drinking occurred in the closet. Well, except for tonight.

He got up from the bed and put the AC on low. Natural curiosity led him to the computer desk in the corner of the room. There was a remote and some takeout menus. The remote was the only thing that interested him. He doubted there was anything on tv on a Sunday night but wanted something in the background; the paranoid part of his mind kept reminding him they had neighbors, and those neighbors would be the first to call the cops. Television on and blaring some MTV crap, he returned to the bed, sprawling on his stomach and watching Astrid finish up the honors.

As he fiddled with the television, she slipped one end of a straw into her nostril, the other end at the beginning of one line. Sniffing the powder deep into her skull, she switched nostrils and inhaled the second line right after the first. Immediately her eyes became glassy, a strange smile on her face as she traced a fingertip over the surface of the mirror, rubbing the remnants on her gums. The small mirror was set down on the table for Dante, if he so choose; she took over the remote.

Flipping idly through the channels, she found some HBO softcore porn, leaving the channel on in a moment of interest. Something inside her stirred, but wasn’t incited by the two faux-lesbians on screen, and so after a few beats, she turned it off. Settling back on MTV, the volume turned way low, but still enough to be slightly distracting. Her muscles tensed; she began to grow jittery.

He watched her for a moment, then leaned over the mirror. As he inhaled deeply, he caught his reflection; he looked like shit. He watched for a bit longer. Watched his eyes turn red, glossy, dull. Blinked, slowly. Blinked. Wiggled his eyebrows. Took another hit. He waggled his eyebrows some more, and snorted, blowing what little what left on the mirror out of line.

She closed her eyes. “I brought porn. And the PS2. We can hook that up to the TV, couldn’t we?” Wondering out loud to herself - now her lips were loose, same with her morals. A little sniffle as she sat up from the bed, glancing over at him, smiling slightly.

“How do you feel?”

He watched her for a second, feeling strangely chatty. "Like I jumped out of a plane and kept falling." He paused. "Haven't done this in a while." Crawled over to her and rested his head in her lap. "I like, want to go into the hall and talk to whoever's across from us."

“Probably not the best idea,” she snickered. “We’ll have to keep an eye out, and see who’s around.” Don’t want to arouse too much suspicion. “I know how you feel, though. If we were at home, I’d probably be cleaning by now.” A little laugh, then a slight grimace. The Drip! Scowling as her throat went numb - it would take a little bit to adjust to this euphoria, to feel it out, then decide what to do.

Her fingers dipped into his hair, stroking it; winding strands around them and giving a playful little tug. Uh oh ... look out, Dante! Someone’s feeling feisty.

"Mmn." He leaned into her, enjoying the way her fingers felt in his hair, cocking his head a bit. He wrinkled his nose, sniffling a little. Floating. Distantly he wanted a drink, but fought to just enjoy the moment. He sat up quickly, facing her, sitting Indian-style on the bed. "Favorite song. Quick."

She pursed her lips, licking them, closing one eyes thoughtfully. “Mmn ... at the moment?” She shrugged. “Anything off Very Proud of Ya. Been into old-school AFI lately.” Why, she wasn’t sure. “But I do like that ‘Hey There Delilah’ song. And the ‘Crazy Bitch’ song, too. By Buckcherry, I think.” She didn’t really listen to the radio much, anyway.

“What about you? Any new bands? I need new music. I’m getting kind of bored of everything I have.” It was true. She hadn’t changed the CD in her car stereo, which was Hellbilly Deluxe, for quite some time now.

He rocked back and forth, back and forth. Slow. "Eisley. That hasn't left my car since I got the new album. Other than that, haven't found anything that catches my ear. Wish I had my guitar here but I didn't want to accidentally break it. I've gone through a few in the last couple months." He paused. Took a breath. "I'm talking a lot."

Astrid snickered, rearranging her legs. “So am I. That’s what this devil drug does to you ... but that’s alright. At least we’re here, alone, together, and talking to each other. I’d rather be fucked up with you than by myself.” She stood up, and promptly began pacing. Glancing around, before she spun on a heel, facing him.

“I’m hot,” she said simply, even though the air conditioning was on low. And so she promptly shed her shirt; her pale skin slightly flushed and moist. Tossing the shirt aside, she grinned at him as she sat down at the computer desk. “All better. Aren’t you warm? Or am I just geeked out?”

"I'm dying," he said, shedding his own shirt and turning up the air. He turned to her and pulled her to the edge of the desk, until the lines of their bodies met. "This is crazy," he whispered, kissing her full on the lips.

The blush crawled up her neck, coloured her cheeks as he pulled her close; her hands gently grasping his arms. A soft purr in agreement, muffled by their lips melting together - she nibbled, sucked on his bottom lip. “I know,” she whispered, releasing it, the tip of her tongue flicking out to lash against it. “That’s the best part of tonight.”

He put a hand at the small of her back, caressed the nape of her neck with the other hand. "Like, I just have this need to ramble. And I don't known if I'm going to say something stupid. So, I want to keep my mouth shut but can't. Let's trash this place," he said, looking around at the neat and tidy room.

Astrid snickered. “Dante, since when have you ever worried about saying something stupid?” Shaking her head - she was losing him. Her hand drifted down to his hip, fingertips dipping past the waistband of his boxers to turn his attention back to her.

“Not yet. It’s too early, too soon. Wait, wait for the crest of this high, beautiful wave. It’ll come, and it will be glorious. Plus I need to make sure I still have enough money to cover all of this.” Now she was rambling, her hands burrowing in Dante’s pants, yet her mind was distracted.

"Yeah, I always say stupid somethings and never worry about them." He tipped his head back and brought it forward, pressing his lips to hers. "Hope this desk is sturdy," he said against her mouth, tongue darting in and flicking around hers.

“And that is why I love you,” she murmured against his lips; propping her rear on the edge of the desk, denimed legs rising and encircling Dante’s waist. Head tilted to the side and tipped back, holding the kiss, her tongue pressing against his, coiling around it, teasing it. Before long, she reached a hand up, pressing the palm to the back of his head to deepen the kiss, her hips raising up against his momentarily.

He let her deepen the kiss, grinding his hips against hers, thinking about what she had just said. Had he heard right or were the drugs fucking with just about everything? Was he supposed to say something? And if he did say something, what if he'd heard wrong? Why was he thinking about it so much? Did it really matter?

He gripped her hips, pulling her tighter against him, gently pressing the tightness of his jeans against her. He tried to remember what he had just been thinking about but suddenly it wasn't so important.

She didn’t expect him to say anything - hell, she wasn’t expecting that to come popping out of her mouth! But never mind that; she was quick on her feet, and distracted him with kisses, the hand on his head trailing down to the front of his chest, fingertips skipping across his nipple.

A low groan sounded in the back of her throat at the tightness pressed against her, her hips circling slightly to grind against it. She broke the kiss, panting slightly, nipping at his throat. “Jesus, Dante,” she gasped. “I’ve never wanted you so badly more than I do now.” She suddenly sounded slightly desperate, both hands resting on his shoulders to keep him pressed between her legs.

He moaned, eyes widening at her words. Fingers began working at buttons, zippers, clothing removed in a blur. His naked hardness pressed against her thigh as his hands worked at her jeans. He couldn't kiss her enough. If she kept talking like that, though, they might have to wait til later. He grimaced at the thought of disappointing her. "Now, now, now," he chanted under his breath, not realizing he was speaking aloud.

Astrid leaned back on her palms, lifting her hips up and untangling her legs from his lean waist: watching him peel off her jeans, her panties, kicking them aside to the floor. She leaned back up against him, legs tugging him right back to where he began, a hand reaching down to cup his aching erection. “Now?” A little grin.

"Now," he said, the words barely making it out of his mouth. The little tease. He took her hands in his, twining fingers, moving closer to her, finding the right angle. A deep breath, then he began to rock, plunging into her slowly, slowly. He kissed her, eyes rolling back at the sensation of being inside of her.

“Oh, God ...” Exhaling softly as she felt him press against her, eyes closing. Their hips met, and she gasped, her legs snaring him. Leaning forwards to press against his chest, her hips rocking back and forth to meet his thrusts; she leaned her head up, sinking her teeth into his neck, giving a little tug. “More, baby, more.” Her voice was an airy gasp, her tone pleading.

Silently enthralled with her bedside manner, he grabbed her ass and thrust into her as hard as he could, laying her back on the desk, thrusting in and out, faster and faster. Watching her the entire time. "How's that feel?" He leaned down to kiss her, words coming out in a breathy whisper. His thrusts slowed momentarily; he needed to catch his breath.

“Feels so good, baby ..” Her hips moved in time with his, quickening the pace, listening to the sound of their bodies moving together. It was all too much for her, nearing the edge - she was growing dizzy. Gasping, she loosened her legs from his waist when he slowed down and sat up.

“Lay down, baby, on the bed.” Still jittery from the coke, coupling that with the adrenaline rush from fucking him; she reached out, gently guiding him onto his back on the mattress, climbing on top of him afterwards. Once he was flat on his back, she turned around carefully, still straddling him - turned about so her ass was facing him. She glanced at him over her shoulder, a wicked little smirk curling her lips. Her hips lifted, then lowered in an agonising slowness.

"Mmn." He struggled to lay still, fingertips racing along her sides, running over the smoothness of her skin. He welcomed the bed; he didn't know if it was the coke or the adrenaline rush he got from her but his heart was racing and he was finding it harder and harder to catch his breath. Maybe a hit from the bowl after this would do them some good.

For the time being, though, she rode him as hard and as long as she could - though after several minutes, she collapsed, laying on her back and gasping for breath. She closed her eyes as she reached for him, pulling him close, on top of her.

He thrust into her, moving his hips in tiny circles, trying new angles.. and suddenly felt white fire rushing through him, different somehow from all the other times. Coke laced fire. He felt himself coming and pulled out at the last second, cursing and collapsing onto his back, hot liquid pooling onto his stomach. He took his hand in hers, laying there silently.

Pleased by his quick recovery, there was only a small lapse in movement - before long, she was pinned to the mattress underneath him. She was moaning, panting breathless little encouragements in his ear; shuddering from her own climax just as he did his.

She sank back against the cool pillows, lacing her fingers with his - still breathing heavily, her free hand pressed to her chest to feel her heart. Yes, bowl time was now. Sitting up, she located her piece and a lighter, sparking it up and torching the bowl, passing it over to her drained lover.

He took it, carelessly burning numb fingertips. He could feel himself coming off from the coke; suddenly he was thinking of all the things he needed to do, but too tired from the sex to do anything about it. Instead he lifted his head just enough to take a hit without spilling anything. Held his breath. Exhaled. Took a second hit and passed it back to Astrid. He lay there for another moment, then sat up and began searching for his cigarettes.

Frantically he opened his duffel bag, tearing out clothing and an undeterminable number of coke and weed baggies. A small bottle of Jack Daniels tumbled out; he didn't notice. "Cigarettes, cigarettes, what the fuck..."

The bowl was accepted, and she babysat it, watching him with minor amusement. “Check the side pocket. I saw you put them there earlier.” She curled up on the bed, setting the bowl aside and feeling her heartbeat regulate. Perhaps it was time for another bump - she considered this, but figured it’d be safer to wait for Dante to find his smokes. Geeze, he was even more on edge than her tonight.

He plucked the pack from the side pocket, eyeing her gratefully. "I thought someone took them. Maybe the neighbors or something." He lit one up, tossing them onto the nightstand and taking a coke baggie with him to the bed. "Round two? I'm losing it."

"So I noticed." She tilted her head to the side, raising a brow. "I'm down, but you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just losing my edge." He dumped the coke into the mirror and began cutting lines for them. "I'm gonna kick the motherfucker's ass when I find him, hiding my cigarettes." He winked at her, not entirely sure himself whether he was joking.

"Guess you'll have to kick your own ass. I think you're losing it, babe." She shook her head, now a little uncertain of whether this was really a good idea. But she sniffed up her lines obediantly, squirming at the rush that filled her body. "Jesus," she gasped, closing her eyes.

He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his head a bit and pulling at the dark strands. "I'm good, I'm good." He wasn't entirely certain himself, but then again, Dante never listened to the voice that said, "enough".

One eye opened to watch him curiously. No wonder why he didn’t do this drug so much. “Okay, well ... if things start getting bad, tell me.” She sat up slightly, and reached out for the cigarette, gently plucking it from his fingers and sneaking a drag off of it. Ugh .. menthol.

A short nod, and then Dante was leaning over the mirror, sniffing more into his system. Uncanny how fast it worked. It was better than Excedrin, the headache medicine. This time he didn't bother looking at his reflection; he knew he looked like shit but didn't care. Just finished up his line and inhaled, imagining it hitting the back of his skull, mixing in with his brain juices. He laughed. "Brain juices." Flopped backward and lay staring at the ceiling again, this time Vicks Vaporizers far from mind. "Incredible."

At least they weren’t shrooming - in that case, mirrors and reflections would have been a very bad idea at this point. She snuck another bump from one more line. Might as well climb up to his level. The insanity level was quickly rising. “Brain juices. Brain meats. Haha ..” Laughing to herself, rolling onto her back - still naked, her arms crossed above her head. “Fuck, I feel good.“

"Yeah," he agreed, remembering his cigarette and taking it back from her. "I'm fucking high."