Condemned Desire

Jayne Renault
14 mins read
Published over 3 years ago

It’s funny to think that something so simple as a text message could change the course of your young, mundane life so easily, so significantly. A Pandora’s text box, if you will.

I don’t know exactly what compelled me to send that particular text message on the night in question. And to this day, I still have not been able to figure out if it was the best or worst decision I could have made in that moment.

Let’s set the scene: I had just finished a long shift at the restaurant. My feet were throbbing and were positively rank from being wedged in my dilapidating black flats all day long. I tossed my bag onto my bed and clumsily wiggled out of my little black work dress.

The great debate - Do I take a shower now? Or skip straight ahead to the pass-out stage and let personal hygiene be a tomorrow problem?

Deciding that I didn’t even want to make that decision yet, I lay back on my bed in my underwear and began to scroll through the infinite nothingness to which my little smart phone was the portal. My eyes blurred over, not focusing on anything in particular while my thumbs danced familiar lines through its regular evening routine.

It wasn't long before I gave up and locked the screen, extinguishing the light burning into my tired retina. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt my phone rise and fall on my chest as I took a few deep breaths in and out. 

Suddenly, as if a ghost of inspiration had swept right through me and taken temporary possession of my body, I sat up once again, revived the sleeping screen in my palm, and swiped through the sea of contacts.

One of the names stood out among the rest. Without giving it much thought, I typed up a simple message.

Me: If you were serious about getting together for drinks sometime, you should let me know.

Send.

Not anticipating anything to actually come of this little virtual game, I got up with the intention of going to the bathroom. However, before I could even reach the threshold of the hallway, I heard a soft buzz come from somewhere in the air behind.

Unexpectedly, my pulse had elevated. I picked up my phone and saw his name there, just waiting for me to reach out and touch it.

Him: This is me letting you know.

My stomach did a little somersault. It was in that moment that I realized that perhaps I liked him a little more than I had initially allowed myself to appreciate.

Me: When were you thinking?

His response came immediately.

Him: How about tonight. 9:30?

Now, that made me nervous. I hadn’t anticipated a response, never mind immediate plans to be made. It’s too late now though. Go big or go home, right?

Me: That should work. Have a place in mind?

Confession: Indecision is one of my major weaknesses. Whenever possible, I will pass the responsibility of making a choice to the other player.

Him: I know a place. I’ll pick you up. Address?

No nonsense, straight to the point, and a free ride. Perfect.

With my final response sent, I put the phone down once again and looked around the room, as if waiting for someone to give me to the go ahead to get ready for this impromptu outing. “Fuck,” I said out loud. “Well, I guess I should shower now.”


As the minutes counted down, I found myself pacing around my room. I checked my phone. I looked out the window. I checked my phone. I paced some more. I put on my shoes so I had a reason to sit down. I checked my phone. I took my shoes off. I put boots on instead. My palms were sweating.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Since he hadn’t warned me with a customary arrival text, his knock startled me. I jumped violently and nearly tripped as I hurried to answer the door. I took a deep breath before palming the doorknob to reveal myself to my doubtful guest.

“Hello.” His voice was melodious without singsong. “How are you.”

A matter-of-fact statement more than an actual question.

“I’m good, thanks.” I sputtered. I’m sure it came out fine, but in that moment, I felt like I was melting into a puddle at the foot of the pedestal on which I had suddenly and inexplicably mounted him. Despite having made his acquaintance years prior, I had never noticed until then the sultry charm that radiated from him. All at once, I became a poor, foolish moth, ensnared by his hypnotic dark flame.

As I stood there face to face with this familiar stranger, I remember very clearly wondering: What kind of trouble am I gonna get into tonight?

“Shall we?” I stepped out into the warm evening, and he offered me his cool hand. He guided me to his car, where he opened the passenger door for me, beckoning me forth into the mysterious unknown of this misadventure I was about to embark upon. The dewy grass licked at my toes. In the end, I had ditched the ankle boots in favor of sandals.

He closed the door gently behind me and I watched as he stalked around to the driver’s side. He carried himself with a subtle air of showmanship. How have I never noticed him before?

He took his place in front of the steering wheel and, right before putting his key into the ignition, he paused to look at me.

His crow-black eyes feigned an inconspicuous softness. Fully beguiled, I dropped my defenses just long enough for him to slither down into my soul. Like a hungry snake, his concentrated stare coiled around my heartstrings and swallowed me whole from the inside out. 

He flashed a coy grin in my direction, and then his engine revved.


We found ourselves in a cozy booth at his favorite hole-in-the-wall martini lounge. He sat across from me in our dimly lit alcove and two cocktails - a dirty gin martini and a bourbon concoction garnished with a poached pear - magically appeared. There was a candle on the table between us that contoured his face, cutting his cheeks with dancing shadows.

The spark in his eyes matched the twirling flame. My legs were crossed tightly, nervously beneath the table, and I felt a surge of anxious heat swell between them.

After taking a sip from one of the glasses - we shared both drinks between us - he would place it aside, as if to reduce the barriers between us. Resting his forearms on the edge of the table, he folded his long fingers delicately in on themselves and looked well beyond my pupils as he spoke. The conversation was a blur, but I hung on his every word.

The dried up cocktails were replaced with two new ones, and before I knew it, those glasses were empty too.

“Let’s make a move,” he said. A command, not a suggestion.

The bartender insisted we take a shot before we leave. An herbal liqueur of sorts - bright green and rather potent. It was like freezer burn sliding down my throat. I tried my best to maintain my composure, knowing that he was paying close attention. It was harsh at first, but the discomfort eventually subsided to a curiously enjoyable chill in my chest. 

To this day, I am still conditioned to believe that I genuinely love the sensation of that drink assaulting my senses. Maybe it was meant to serve as a metaphorical warning for what was to come. If so, it failed terribly.

He thanked the bartender with a firm, yet friendly handshake and ushered me towards the door.

We strolled arm in arm through the quiet downtown streets. I can assume we talked about something, but between the apprehensive buzzing in my head as well as my loins, I found myself somewhat distracted.

Our wandering led us to the river’s edge where the great iron skeleton of an old bridge - looming vestigial remains of an industrial past - stood ominously before us.

We followed the steps down to a path that ran beneath the bridge. Without a word of warning, hidden by the shadows of this imposing steel specter, he took me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and deliberate. I felt my entire being swoon into his.

We pulled away for a moment. Our eyes found each other in the darkness and began to adjust. The details of his face slowly appeared piece-by-piece, line-by-line in the subtle glow of the moonlight. His pointed gaze complimented the deliberate angles of his face, and his dark hair fluttered softly in the breeze around his ears and across his forehead. As his eyes drank me in, my chest tightened its grip to keep any butterflies from escaping.

His hands found their way to the small of my back and held me firmly in place. Our hips lined up and I felt his excitement rise and press into me. I moved my mouth back towards his. My kisses were hungrier than before, lips ravenously grabbing at his like a small child who was still too young to understand the point of dinner table etiquette. His tongue teased at mine in the spaces between my greedy reaches, and his vampire smile latched on to my bottom lip. It lingered there for a moment as his hand moved up the flesh of my spine beneath my shirt. I felt every drop of my blood flush to my groin.

Taking me by the hand, he led me to a natural bench of rocks and moss just off the path. He sat down and invited me to stand between his legs as our lips found each other once again in the darkness. I rested my hands on his shoulders for support and felt my fingers dig deeply into his flesh as my passion rose.

We heard some kids on bikes coming up the path. He wrapped his arms around my waist as if to conceal me from these intruders as his mouth moved away from my lips and down the length of my neck. His breath was hot and I felt hairs all over my body stand at attention. A fiery shiver, much like the one I had just swallowed at the bar, ran down my spine, and the clamor of the bicycle gang dissipated as quickly as it had arrived.

His tongue traced a line from my neck to my clavicle, leaving a snail trail of saliva in its wake, which invited the cool breeze to take part in the action. He unbuttoned my shirt and buried his face into the valley between my breasts. He then found a nipple with his tongue, which he nibbled gently before exploring in the other direction for its partner. One hand slipped in front to palm the wetness he had left behind.

An overwhelming undulation rippled through me and my head dropped back, my hair sweeping the back of his hands. I pressed my pelvis into his chest as he continued his oral investigation of my body.

Then he stopped, gently backed me up, took my hand, and guided me up the stairs.

At the top of the staircase, we found ourselves at the former entrance to the old bridge, a chain-link fence now barring entry to the road that still led to the other side. A sign warned that trespassers should dare not cross. But tonight was a night to be bold.

I took the lead and climbed several feet up to the top of the fence. With as much grace as I could muster, I stuck my landing on the other side. I took a few slow paces down the middle of the faded asphalt before I heard him begin his clanking ascent behind me.

His feet connected with the pavement. I turned around to greet him, and he moved swiftly towards me. Like magnets, opposite poles pulling together with unhesitating intention. In a lip-locked tango, we moved a few paces along the dotted line towards the center of the bridge. I then pulled away to face forward for the rest of the walk. Though I was slightly ahead of him, he wouldn’t let go of my hand. In that instant, he was in control, and I didn’t care to question his authority.

In the middle of the bridge, the sounds of the city all but faded away. We stood in that space, disconnected from reality, literally suspended in our own private corner of the universe if only for a moment. 

I sat down on the pavement in front of him, leaning back onto my hands as he calmly scanned our surroundings. He then got down on his knees in front of me so that our eyes were on an equal level. Leaning in, he caressed my jawline with his hand and kissed me with a gentleness that matched the breeze skimming over us.

Wordlessly, he proposed I lay back on to the pavement behind me. As I reclined, he mirrored my movement with his own body, pressing his whole self gently on top of mine. He cupped the back of my head to soften the landing as he lowered it slowly to the ground.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck and I gazed up into the stars above us. His hand moved along the side of my body down to my hip as my hand slipped under his shirt to feel the strength of his torso.

Eyes closed, our lips blindly reached out to find each other again. I moved one hand between us to carefully unbutton his shirt while our tongues lapped voraciously at each other.

He leaned back onto his knees to remove his shirt. The amber glow of timeworn lamps above highlighted the topography of his noble body and a light spread of dark hair across his chest.

The hungry panther leered down at me about to strike. But first, he placed his shirt under my head as a sort of crude cushion. Satisfied, he unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them down, peeling them slowly off my legs.

This new level of exposure caused me to erupt with goosebumps, and again tasted the hot-cold echoes of that powerful shot. I suddenly felt shy as his eyes drank in every inch of my body, lingering on the lacy black panties he had uncovered.

He flashed a fiery smirk at me once more before diving down between my legs. Laying on his front, he leaned his head on my inner thigh as he explored the other with ginger fingertips. With two fingers, he traced the line of my groin and hovered over my vulva. I could feel the warmth of his breath on me as his fingers magically coaxed shivers out from somewhere between my shoulder blades.

Kissing gently at me over my panties, he moved up to my swollen clit. A surge of electricity forced my eyes closed when his lips finally made themselves known to my flesh. He teasingly retreated from the apex of my groin and nibbled at my inner thigh. It almost hurt, but it only made me yearn for him more.

Yearning. That’s what I felt with every fiber of my being that night. My depths yearned to meet his.

He continued his calculated teasing, kissing, stroking, biting… I became completely overwhelmed.

All at once, I pushed him off of me and rose to my knees, anchoring myself as I unbuttoned and unzipped, tugging feverishly at his jeans. He followed my lead and tore them off along with his boxers, revealing an eager erection.

I pushed him down to lay on the ground where I had just been, taking but a second to admire his strong yet vulnerable form in its nakedness. I crawled on top of his upright cock and slid it slowly inside me.

I let out a primal moan as I felt him expand the ridges of my vaginal wall. He placed his hands on my hips as I arched back in worship to the dark heavens expanding above us. I ripped aggressively at my top, pulling it overhead and adding it to his makeshift headrest.

Bowing myself over him, my forehead touched his as I slowly moved my wet lips up and down the length of his shaft. Despite the cool summer breeze swimming between us, perspiration formed like a subtle morning dew on our faces.

He growled in my ear and bit my earlobe as I brought him in even further, tapping into my impatient depths.

The pebbles on the pavement were starting to dig into my knees. I rose on to the flats of my feet and squatted over him. He looked up to watch him move in and out of view from between my legs as I consumed him anew with every thrust. With one hand on the ground to stabilize myself and the other entwined in his hair, I pulled myself closer to him.

I wanted to lose myself completely in this man. This man I hardly knew. I wanted to taste his hunger, to feel his passion, to become his pulse, his blood - the same blood engorging his voracious cock, which was thrusting vehemently ever deeper inside me.

Snarling, I bit into his shoulder. He moaned violently and flipped me over onto my back. For a fleeting second, he towered over me with angry desire while I lied spread eagle on the ground in front of him. He then plunged back into the pool of passion still flowing freely between my lips.

I felt tiny stones perforating my scalp as my nails carved love scars into his back. My moans grew in both intensity and volume as his pace gradually increased. The pulse in my clit was deafening.

He grew even more rigid inside me as his testicles pulled in close to his body. His whole form pulsated with a burgeoning energy; I felt euphoric as it seeped in through my skin.

Clinging to him as if I would fall into the earth if I let go, I felt his release. His thrusts simultaneously slowed and deepened as he succumbed to his pleasure. I reveled in the moment, feeling the energetic overflow reverberate through my own body.

Swooning a tiny death rattle, he collapsed on top of me. I held him as he breathed into me, feeling the deep swell of each respiration as it swirled to mix with the tender zephyr that had embraced us throughout our expressions of bliss.

I gazed once again into the stars above, consumed all at once by both a reverent bliss and an intoxicating sense of foreboding.

More by Queen Jayne:

The Birthday Bash
Chicago Rare
Comings and Goings
Compliance Risk
Condemned Desire
Conservation Area

Devotee
Diamonds and Pearls
The Edge of Glory
Expressions of Grief
For Dommestic Use Only
Hey, Babe.
Just Dessert

Lucky Shot
Marked
Summer Heat
Strangers on a Train
Up Top

QJ
Written by
Queen Jayne Renault

comma chameleon. word witch. smut queen.