Red Room Hours with John Tan

Unresolved

You were not going to cry, there was no way. You fiercely rubbed your fingers against your eyes swallowing hard to push the knot in your throat downward. It was possible that being intimate with someone you barely knew could make you look easy, but why didn't it make him look easy too? Hadn't he been the one with barely any clothes on? Hadn't he been the one to orgasm? It had been your idea to help him, but he'd been willing to do anything up to and including have sex with you. Wasn't he offended when you declined, yet he was going to sit in judgement of your choices?

You pushed off the door and stormed across the room, you'd clean up this mess and not think about John Tan ever again. You'd write the paper about him with as much as he'd already revealed and take your barely passing grade. You'd make sure to arrive to class on time and sit where he couldn't sit next to you, and if you ever had another class with him you'd pretend he didn't even exist. He was particles in space, floating around you but not part of your world anymore.

You dropped to the floor in front of your desk chair and began untying the knots around the legs, tugging velvet cord more harshly than required and it snagged several times driving your frustration. You remembered the way his body had perched over the chair, tense and waiting for whatever you wanted to do, he'd wanted it so badly. You replayed each blow with the crop along his shoulder blade, reddening with sweat beginning to build across all that warm brown skin. You imagined how he would have tasted if you'd used your teeth into that shoulder instead of the crop. Would he have cried out in pain or moaned, or both?

These thoughts of John settled in your tummy and lower, and you pressed your fingers into your inner thighs and held back desire with sharp teeth into your bottom lip. If you dragged them just a little higher into the seam of your panties you would feel the affect he was having on you even when you were angry with him. You leaned your upper body across the seat of the chair and pressed your fingers into the center of your panties, feeling trembles of excitement in your chest and the wetness spilling into the see through fabric. You knew you were naïve if you thought you'd just suddenly stop wanting John, you knew even with your current feelings just beneath the surface nothing had changed.

You'd allowed yourself to picture him in many compromising scenarios laying in your bed at night, but you'd never allowed yourself to touch yourself while you did. You liked to imagine him braced on his arms above you, feeling small and helpless as he lowered his body to yours, his hips pressing your thighs wider. With those thoughts you moved your fingers slightly against your core adding pressure and sounds of pleasure left your lips immediately. How could you feel so close so soon?

Peeling back the edge of your underwear you ran fingertips across your dampness and gasped pressing your cheek into the chair and moving fully onto your knees with your wrist poised between thighs. The way he'd held you in his lap, secure, his heartbeat steady against your back, long fingers wrapped in yours, so protective. What might have happened if he hadn't completely ruined everything? You'd looked at his full lips and could imagine now the way they would feel against your body, maybe even where your fingers teased right now, encompassing you and bringing you right to the edge.

With that thought you began expert strokes of curling fingers and you were quivering instantly. Tiny circles dragged around your bud as you pictured him walking back through the door. Apologetic and full of desire for you, dropping to his knees behind you pressing you forward against the chair. You slid a finger into your depths thinking it could be his, then his chest pressed to your back leaning toward your ear breath teasing asking you if you wanted him inside you. A second finger joined the first and you were gasping your pleasure against the wood of the chair and biting back his name as you spilled across your palm.

You sighed letting the chair support you completely and dropped your hand from your body. What had just happened? It must have been the emotions built up from your scene that needed released, this was normal. You usually incorporated some sort of sexual release into your own self-care after a scene when your were finally alone. This wasn't about John, it was just the feelings left over, you lied to yourself, but if that was the case why had you almost yelled his name across your empty room?

You stood suddenly on legs that weren't ready and stumbled into your bathroom. You washed your hands and then rinsed the used hand towels in your sink before tossing them into the laundry hamper your mind wandering to how you'd stroked them across his body cleaning away the result of his orgasm. You wanted to see him reach that peak again, only this time braced between your legs, with you controlling his speed and when he'd finish. You splashed some cool water across your brilliantly red cheeks and tried to banish him from your mind again.

Returning to your bedroom you set about with focus to gather both sets of the cords from the desk chair and closet then expertly wound them back into their loops securely. Leaving them on the floor, for the third time that evening you pulled the cardboard box from below your bed. You removed each item from it placing them carefully around you, leaving the crop, paddle and leather cuffs away from the rest. Each item was mindfully placed back into the box and the red blanket folded. You grasped a toy safe cleaner and microfiber cloth from the box and set about meticulously cleaning off all the surfaces of the toys you'd used on John. Once everything was clean you added them to the box as well and pushed it under the bed once more.

Putting the final touches on erasing John from your room you grabbed the blue blanket you'd wrapped around his shoulders and watched with dismay as Boof was yanked from beneath. How had he forgotten his stuffed bear? Things had happened very quickly at the end, and you could see how in his rush to drop the blanket and come after you the bear might have been missed.

You sighed deeply and rubbed your fingers across your forehead. This would mean you'd have to speak to him again, and handing him a stuffed toy in class sounded like it would draw too much attention. Would he be embarrassed if you did that? Perversely you wouldn't mind making him feel uncomfortable, having to accept the teddy bear from your grasp in front of your peers, possibly to side long glances and smirks. Best case scenario they'd think he was a gift from John you were returning, a break up? At worst they'd think it was a gift you'd picked for him, making you look like the love sick puppy chasing after him.

You picked up Boof and before you could stop yourself you'd pulled him toward your chest, the head of the bear right below your nose. He smelled of John's skin and you wondered how many nights he'd cuddled the toy against his warm clean chest. You walked him to the chair by your door and set him down, a firm pat on his head and turned toward the bathroom.

A quick rendition of your face washing and moisturizing followed by teeth brushing commenced. You didn't once allow your thoughts to drift while you smoothed the creamy suds across your cheeks or patted serums into your forehead. It was only once you were peeling the tight leather clothing from your body your mind wandered again.

Dropping the leather top to the floor you'd smoothed your palms down the tops of your breasts, they were full and still pressed high in your see-through lace bra. With a short zip the tiny leather skirt whispered past your thighs then knees and finally calves to the floor as well. Narrow waist and wide hips accented the matching lace panties. You could still see the damp spot on the front from earlier and you instantly thought of John dropping to his knees in front of you. His lips would kiss your stomach, tease your belly button, and then use teeth to snag the front of the panties. Would he lick through them first or pull them down roughly, teeth grazing skin?

"He's never going to want you like that Y/N." You glared at your reflection and shouted the words out loud. "He's never going to see you as anything but a distraction from Bree. You're nothing to him, and he proved it calling you a slut!" You turned from the mirror wrenching the panties from your body so fiercely you heard the rip but that only made you more angry. You gave the same treatment to the bra tugging it free and shredding a hole by the hooks with your lack of care. Tossing them straight into the trash can under the sink you stomped to your dresser pulling free a tank top and plain white underwear you dressed, flicking the light switch off and flopped onto your bed. It only took a split second before you were bounding out and across the room in the dark, plucking Boof from his chair and were back in bed pulling the covers to your ears, the bear against your breasts.