The Inn Between

Follow The InnKeeper on:

Erotic Story
©1998 by Joreth

He sat outside her room, looking at the dark window, as he had countless times before. He thought, "This time. This time I will." He looked around, then gathered his courage, stood up and approached the large bay window. The blinds were drawn shut, but one of the window panes was partially open, due to the summer heat. He walked to the side of the window and looked behind the wall of bushes, standing a foot taller than the window ledge. He pulled himself up on the ledge and sidestepped towards the open portion of the window. The screen was slightly bent and didn't quite fit in the frame. He lifted it out easily and hid it behind the bushes. He slowly pushed the blinds away from the window. Gently, he lowered himself down to a crouch and put one leg over the windowsill, trying not to rustle the blinds. His foot found the floor beneath the window. He eased the blinds farther away from him and his entryway. He slipped his other leg into the room and dropped to a crouch, slipping under the heavy blinds. He quietly put the blinds back in place without enough noise to wake the room's occupant, although she stirred in her sleep. He turned around and looked at her. The moon was bright and the mini-blinds were not shut tightly, allowing a faint light into the room. It didn't matter. He didn't need any light. He knew exactly what she looked like. He had every detail of her face memorized. She was lying on a double bed with her back turned towards him. She was sandwiched between her large body pillow, which hugged her back, and her teddy bear, clutched to her chest. Her head just barely poked above the covers, her long, dark hair fanned out in every direction. He walked around to the right side of the bed, the side she preferred to sleep on, even though she had the whole bed to herself. With the sheet pulled up to her chin, and her face buried in the fur of her teddy bear, he could just make out one closed eye and part of her nose.

He stood and looked at her forever. He had never stolen into her room like this before, although he often wished he could. He wondered if he would have the courage to lie down next to her, and if he did, would she wake? Would she call out? Would she embrace him as he so fervently wished? But he knew better. Even though she couldn't quite explain it, except to say she didn't feel right about it, they had never taken their relationship past the platonic friendship she had insisted on for the past ten years. He had been dreaming of her every night of those ten years. His feverish visions kept him awake until pure exhaustion finally plunged him down into the depths of sleep, where even there, he could not escape her. She haunted his every waking moment. What he would give to touch her, to hold her, to know that she would be there in the morning, every morning! But she refused all his arguments, all his advances, keeping him at arms-length. She was stubborn, but so was he. And he was determined to have her.

After an eternity, he let his gaze wander from her face. He looked at her motionless form beneath the thin sheet. The body pillow was not snuggled against her as he originally thought. During the heat of the night, she had pushed it slightly away from her, leaving a small hollow between her and the pillow, under the sheet. He noticed that although she was on her side, she had started to lean towards her back, with her teddy bear partially covering her. One leg was thrown outside the sheet and dangled down the side of the bed. Even with the ceiling fan gently whirring above the bed, and the open window, it was very warm in the room, too warm to sleep comfortably. He was amazed she slept through his almost-silent entry.

He bent down and took off his shoes, laying them against the wall so no one would trip if they happened to make a hasty departure in the dark. He was wearing only a tank top and jeans because of the weather, and he took off the tank top and set it upon his shoes. Not really knowing where this was going, he didn't want to risk taking off any more. He pulled the sheet down slowly, uncovering her sleeping form and gently moving the teddy bear to the floor besides his shoes. She was wearing a light T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Knowing she only had solid silk and plaid flannel boxers, and seeing that these were a solid color, he assumed they were one of her silk pairs, her favorites. They were loose fitting, and the legs had ridden up until they sat on her hips, like a pair of panties. Her left leg, the one that was not hanging over the edge, was straight and away from the edge, leaving her legs spread just a little. He leaned over and put his hand on the bed next to her, between her waist and the body pillow. When he put his weight on his hand in an attempt to lie down on top of her, she opened her eyes. She looked confused and sleepy as she tried to focus on the form above her. After a moment, she recognized him.

"What are you doing in here?" She whispered as she struggled to sit up. He quickly lay on top of her, his legs between hers and put his hand over her mouth.

"Shhh," he said. She gave him her usual look of exasperation as she put her hand on his wrist and tried to take his hand from her mouth. Since he was a little off balance, she was able to move his hand enough to say, "You don't need to cover my mouth. You shouldn't be in here. My parents could wake up anytime. Now get off of me." She put her hands on his shoulders and tried to push him off. He was stronger and he outweighed her. She couldn't move him. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"I want you. I love you," he replied.

"You know how I feel about this." She tried to push him off again as she reminded him of her well-worn argument. She used her hips this time to unbalance him. As she did, she pushed against his erection. She felt him against her, trapping her, his body all along the length of hers. A sharp, electric current raced from where she felt his hardness up to her chest. She felt herself get wet as he pressed down on her, in between her legs. He grabbed her hands and held them above her head. She began to struggle, to free her hands. She was struggling hard, but not as hard as she could have. She kept silent during this struggle, not alerting anyone else in the house about the intruder. She bucked, trying to knock him off, but this only added to her desire. Each struggle, each move, each twist and turn of her slim body under his made him more excited. The very fact that he was here, against her will, holding her down was making it difficult to restrain himself. Her fighting combined with the look of desire in her eyes only made him want her more.

He put both small wrists in one of his hands. With the other, he reached down for the bottom of her shirt. Her breasts, unbound beneath her shirt, were pressing against his chest, and he wanted to feel them against his naked skin. She struggled some more, twisting her wrists, using the sweat as a lubricant in an effort to free them. He held on fast. She was bucking, trying to get out from under him. When she arched her back, he raised the shirt. He pulled it above her chest and stopped, letting his free hand touch her breast, her nipple. She moaned, closed her eyes and arched her back again.

"Stop," she whispered.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked. She hesitated, biting her lip.

"Stop," she repeated.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked again. She refused to answer. He bowed his head and gently kissed her nipple. She moaned again. No, no, no, no, no she kept repeating in her head. But her body was telling her yes.

"Please,"

"Shhh," he replied. He pulled the shirt above her head. She continued to struggle. He twisted the shirt around her wrists, wrapping them tight. She tried to free her hands before they were tied, but she didn't try too hard. He quickly tied a knot and tucked it under some of the layers of cloth, so she couldn't untie it. Then he put his hands on her upper arms so he could hold them above her head, but he wouldn't be stretched out with no maneuvering room. He lay himself down on her again, feeling her hot soft skin against his chest.

"Please," she entreated him again. But whether it was please stop or please continue, she wasn't sure. He slipped one hand between their bodies and stroked her breast. Again she moaned, just the barest whisper of a moan, like the others. She kept moving, trying to push him off her, not aware that she kept her right knee bent at his waist, holding him to her from that side. With only one hand holding hers, not very securely, she suddenly pushed her arms up and tried to squeeze them between her and him, to get more leverage. He reluctantly, but swiftly took his hand off her breast and used both hands to grab her arms and hold them above her head again. They were both breathing heavily, more heavily than their somewhat mild exertions gave them reason to. Her bucking and wriggling, her moaning and breathing were more than his control could handle. He descended on her mouth, kissing her harshly. Her mouth was open and she had no chance to close it before his tongue invaded her. She kissed him back just as fiercely, all the while trying to free her hands. She was caught between what her mind told her was right and what her body told her was right. His body and mind were one on the subject. He drove his hips down, exerting pressure between her legs, just as she bucked up to knock him off. They both tensed as their passions flooded their senses. He started moving rhythmically, down and up, on top of her. Her bucking gradually assumed the same rhythm. Their passion neared its peak, and he stopped. He wanted her completely. He wasn't going to come this soon. He had better control than that. He could go for as long as it took, all night if necessary.

When he stopped, they both tried to catch their breath. She shook her head, trying to clear it. We can't do this; we can't do this, what am I doing? She kept saying in her mind. Leaving one had to guard hers, he reached down towards her shorts. She brought up both knees and pushed her hips into the bed, making it harder for him to take them off. He pulled them off her waist to her hips, where he encountered her resistance. He hesitated for a moment, thinking. Then he eased his hand between their bodies and down her stomach and under her waistband. He lifted his hips slightly to allow him access. His hand brushed her hair, and then his fingers reached between her lips. He found her very wet. He gently stroked her clit, and then reached farther to find her hole. She closed her eyes and tilted her hips upwards, closer to his hand. Just as he was about to enter her with his finger, she realized what he was doing and tilted her pelvis back down, as she raised her body to smash his hand between their bodies, so he couldn't move it down further. He quickly pulled his hand away and grabbed the waistband of her boxers, pulling them below her hips before she could stop him. She glared at him as she realized that he tricked her. He put his hand between her legs and gently rubbed her. He barely touched her clit, felt for her opening but didn't enter. She pushed her hips up at him as she fought to free her hands. His grip was slippery with their sweat, and she could twist her wrists in his grasp, but she couldn't break it.

He cupped her and put pressure on her, slightly moving up and down with his hand. He felt a renewed wetness against his hand. She tensed and ceased her struggling. He took a gamble and let go of her hands so he could rock back on his knees and remove her boxers. Her knees were bent and he began to slide them up over her legs. She sat up suddenly and grabbed hold of her shorts.

"Either let go or I rip them off. I know you don't want me to rip them," he threatened.

"Don't you dare rip my boxers!" She hissed. Even though he wanted nothing more than to tear them off her body and take her, he knew she would be upset at the destruction of her favorite pair of shorts. He figured he would try once more to get them off and if she resisted still, to hell with the shorts!

"I'll rip them and you know I will," he told her. He pried her fingers from the waistband. It wasn't too difficult because she knew he really would rip them, so she didn't hold on too hard. He pulled the shorts down her legs, and she very slightly lifted her feet off the bed so he could take them off. He threw them to the floor, intending to jump back on her before she could get away. But he stopped and looked at her. In the faint light, he could see the outline of her body. She was sitting with her knees pulled up like she was trying to hide herself, even though he had seen her naked once before. Her hair had spilled over her shoulders to help hide her. He could just make out little tufts of hair and a small shadow between her legs. They both hesitated, he stared at her, and she tried to decide what to do. They both realized she was free and he lunged at her. He pinned her beneath him again.

They resumed their struggle. She finally freed her hands from the shirt. She fought hard to free herself, but he would kiss her, or touch her, suck her nipples, stroke her between her legs, and she would not struggle so hard. She would respond to him, but try not to. Little moans and whimpers kept escaping, but she never cried out. He loved to hear her. He wasn't sure if they were sounds resulting from her struggle or sounds of pleasure. She wasn't sure either. He nuzzled her neck. He moved his mouth down to suckle a breast. One hand played with the other breast. Her struggling became a little less fierce. He moved down her stomach with his mouth, loosening his hold on her arms. He slid down between her legs, letting his chest rub her, getting it wet with her. He moved his hands to her hips, and kissed her hair. He kissed her clit. He slipped his tongue between her lips. He licked her clit with short, quick movements of his tongue. He thrust his tongue into her, and moved it around. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed, but her muscles were so tense from what he was doing, she didn't notice she wasn't pushing him away. Her moans, while still quiet, were rising in pitch.

He got off the bed and undid his jeans. She lay there for a moment, trying to catch her breath and collect her thoughts, using the moment of respite without realizing it was her opportunity to escape, if she wanted to. He pushed his jeans down, along with his own boxers, and knelt between her legs. Her knees were still bent and spread apart. She tried to close her legs, but he put his hands on her thighs and held them open. He grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his lap. He could now feel her wetness, her heat. She lay on her back, trying to push away from him. She could feel how close he was. He was almost inside her. Another burst of fluids was released as she felt him rubbing against her; another sharp thrill ran through her body.

"Please," she whispered.

"Is that please stop or please go on?" he asked with a smile. It was obvious her body was enjoying what was happening. She put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away. He reached down between them and positioned himself for entry. She panicked, suddenly realizing what was about to happen if she didn't fight harder. She put her feet on his thighs and pushed. He grabbed onto her hips again and held her steady. He was stronger than she was and she only succeeded in moving him out of line, not getting away from him.

He noticed the change in her. She was fighting for real now, although she still didn't call out for help. She didn't really think he would take it this far. She never believed he would actually sneak into her room to begin with. Somehow, this additional struggle only turned him on more. They began to really wrestle now, both naked and slippery with their sweat. He lay back down on top of her and fought to capture her wrists again. She pushed and wriggled and kicked, trying to get him off of her while not getting restrained. He caught her wrists again quickly, but she was able to slip out of his grasp several times. Finally, he sat back up on his knees. She sat up too, and pushed at him with her arms and legs. He checked to make sure there was room, and then pushed her down, hard. She wasn't expecting it and went flying down to the mattress. In the same motion, he grabbed her knees, opened them, and pulled her against him. He reached between them, lined himself up, and pulled her onto him, then lay down before she could get back up.

He entered her and filled her, and she stopped moving. She was torn between her feelings. It felt so good inside her. She had been waiting for it the whole time they were struggling. He grabbed her arms and held them above her head again. Her desire rose even higher when he stretched her out this way. They held this position for a few moments. Then he began to move. Slowly. He pulled out a little bit, and then pushed back in. He moved slowly, then faster, and faster. She moved with him. It was too late now. She couldn't hold back.

He couldn't believe it. He finally had her. He had been dreaming of this for a decade. Her image, her scent, her voice tortured him through puberty, through high school, and now through adulthood. She felt even better than he imaged. Her skin, velvety when dry, turned to pure silk when wet with their sweat. She felt so small, so snug. To make up for her small size, she was also incredibly wet. He easily slid in and out of her. Her small folds and tight muscles curved around him, embracing him, pulling him in.

He filled her to overflowing. She could feel him reaching the very back of her tunnel. She felt him adjust his angle so he wouldn't hit her when he increased his speed. Faster and harder, he pumped into her. He ground his hips into hers, putting pressure on her clit as he slipped in. His sacks slapped her with every thrust. She raised her legs and curled them around him. He took one hand away from hers and ran it along her side, his thumb brushing a hardened nipple. He caressed her waist and hips, easing his hand under her soft, round buttocks. She ripped her hands out of his grasp and shoved them between their bodies, intending to try once more to escape. He grabbed her wrists again and roughly thrust them over her head, nearly in pain from wanting her and having his rhythm interrupted.

"Don't...Do...That...Again!" he growled, punctuating each word with a thrust from his groin, each one harder than the one before. She cried out, though from pleasure or pain neither could tell. They both stopped, silent and tense, listening for sounds of movement from the others in nearby rooms. After a moment, they looked at each other. He lay poised above her, just the head inside her. She gave a little squeeze of her muscle. It seemed to draw him further in. That and the look of naked desire in her eyes, her musky scent filling his nostrils, drove him over the edge. He couldn't wait anymore, he lost all control. He let go of her hands and put his arms around her shoulders, tangling his fingers in her hair. He buried his face in her neck, clenched his fists, pulling her hair and forcing her head back. She arched her back as he drove into her, hard, harder. Faster and faster, she met every thrust, pushing her hips at him, rising off the mattress. Her voice got higher and higher, short little moans that kept time with their bodies. She drew her arms down and ran her hands down his broad, smooth back. In and out, in and out, faster, faster. She tensed, legs locked around his, forcing him to stay inside as she rocketed over the edge into madness. Unknowingly, she dug her nails into him, leaving eight red welts across his back. The feeling of her scratches at the same time he felt her spasms, rhythmically closing around his shaft brought his release. He shot into her, buried in her up to the hilt. The waves of her orgasm seemed to match his, as if she were sucking and massaging every drop out of him.

Slowly, they both drifted back to reality. Exhausted, she smiled, opened her eyes to look at him as he gazed at her propped on one elbow, and then closed her eyes again. He eased himself back down and, still inside her, closed his eyes. He would wake at first light and let himself out the way he came in. But for now, he snubbed his enemy, the sun, and relaxed in her arms for the last few stolen moments. Morning would come too soon, but as long as it was night, he would hold on to his dream come true.