It had been a busy day; Elliot had spent that morning traveling for a business conference in LA. He was tired, jet-lagged, and hungry. “I wish I could go back to the room and just crash," he thought to himself as he checked into the hotel, which was the same place the meeting would be held at, but knew he had to be in the meeting room in 20 minutes and they wouldn't start without him. Grabbing a cup of coffee and toying with the idea of running up to his room for a quick cat nap, a familiar face stepped off the elevator.
He recognized her immediately. “My god," he breathed, “she looks exactly the same." And she did. It had been nearly 13 years and she still took his breath away. She was wearing a red outfit with white trim, which he immediately recognized as a flight attendant uniform. She was walking briskly, suitcase in hand, all business. He was so shocked that at he didn't move, and before he knew it, she walked out of the building out of his sight.
Thought you wouldn't have known it to look at him now, Elliot had been known as the class nerd in high school. He was shy and skinny, with a gawky way about him, glasses, a big nose, and scruffy hair. He mostly kept to himself and didn't have a lot of friends. He just felt too awkward and nervous when he had to talk to people.
He spent most of his high school years wistfully watching everyone else be everything he wasn't, and he was known as the computer nerd.
He had also had a crush on the same girl since first grade. Her name was Elizabeth, and she was the most well-loved, beautiful girl in school. Tall, athletic, olive colored skin, she was part Indian and had thick, glossy jet black hair which fell all the way to the small of her back. Elliot spent the better part of school years lusting after her; in Elementary school, before most of the boys had even started having crushes, Elliot would watch her from afar as she talked and laughed with her friends, and he would imagine what it would be like to hold her. When they were in high school, he'd masturbate and think about what she looked like naked: the image of perfection next to him in his bed, her soft, olive-colored skin, her deep brown eyes, her sensitive smile, her angelic voice, his hands lost in that beautiful thick hair of hers.
He loved her because he had never met anyone more beautiful, but it was more than that. Elizabeth was the only beautiful and popular girl he'd ever known who was actually... sweet. She never made fun of unpopular kids like himself. She had a heart, she was generous, she was nice and never had a mean word for anyone.
Of course, he doubt she knew he even existed. And now, nearly twelve years later, long after he gave up hope of ever seeing her again, he finally saw her again. Incredible. His first instinct as he watched her leave was to run after her, but the meeting was about to start, and he'd be in serious trouble if he wasn't there. So instead of running after her, he sprinted to the elevator and made it just in time.
The meeting was dull, as he predicted, and LONG. He knew he'd probably be in there all day, and he found himself antsy and distracted, thinking about her. He would find her later, he decided. He had to. If she was staying at this hotel he would surely run into her eventually. He looked up at the huge mirror on the opposite wall of where he sat and stared at his reflection – a handsome, confident man stared back at him. He was no longer that gawky, scared little boy he once was. He could do this.
But then a little voice inside his head started. Do what? it said. You're happily married, pal, remember? And he was. He had been married for several years to a wonderful woman he had met in college named Faye, and he knew he was lucky to have her. He never once thought of cheating, but now thoughts and old feelings were resurfacing as he thought more about Elizabeth. “This was the girl of my dreams for half my life," he whispered to himself.
He was stuck in meetings for the rest of the day, and by the time he got out, it was late in the evening, and he was drained, yet as he walked towards the elevator, he found himself going back down the the lobby where he had seen her come off the elevator some hours before. He sat in one of the cushy arm chairs and sighed. “If she's a flight attendant, she could have been flying out and could even be gone for days," he thought glumly, and realized chances were he'd be gone, back to his wife and kids, before she returned. He sat there for a few more minutes, thinking, and then finally decided to go into the hotel restaurant before they closed and have a couple drinks to calm down.
It was mostly empty, with a few people sitting at the bar mainly. He took an empty seat and ordered a drink. He felt very depressed.
The bartender looked up at someone coming in behind him. “Hey, Liz, I thought you were leaving today?" he said.
At the name LIZ, Elliot turned around, and lo and behold, there was his high school crush walking towards him looking tired and worn out herself, still pulling the same suitcase she had earlier. She smiled tiredly at the bartender and sat at the other end of the bar. “Hey, Phil. No, my flight was canceled. I've just spent the whole day at the airport and I could use a night cap. The usual, eh?" Plunking her purse down next to her, she sighed, putting her head in her hands.
“Sure thing," Phil responded.
Elliot was again, too shocked to move. He sat there staring at Elizabeth for several minutes, and he couldn't believe his luck. Now that he was so close to her and he realized he had a chance, he began having second thoughts. He just wasn't sure now. What if she brushed him off or left or something? This seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity and he really didn't want to blow it.
He watched her as she took her glass of wine and slowly began sipping it, all the while chatting idly with the bartender. It was just like old times; Elliot watching from a far as Liz talked and laughed. Oh man, this was almost too much.
Finally, the bartender tended to his other customers and Elliot knew it was now or never. Taking his wedding ring off his finger and slipping it into his pocket, he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards her. “E-Elizabeth?" he began tentatively.
At the sound of her name, she turned slowly, and looked just like a model with her thick hair in a professional bun and he felt his knees go weak. She looked him over, and responded, “Do I know you?"
“Um... well, no, not really... but I know you. Well, we went to the same school. You grew up in Denver, right? We attended school together." He was rambling. God damnit.
He half-expected her to burst into laughter and turn away, but her face broke into a smile. “Really? You're kidding!" she paused, and looked at him again. “I don't recognize you at all."
“Well, you wouldn't," he said hastily. “I... look a lot different. My name is Elliot, by the way. Can I buy you a drink? I heard about your flight cancellation, that's too bad. Can I buy you a drink?" he slipped into the seat next to her, smiling.
She allowed him to buy a round of drinks and they began talking. He couldn't believe he was really talking to her, and gradually he felt the feeling come back in his legs and realized that talking to her was so natural; she was just so sweet and friendly, and she seemed to be enjoying his company, too. They talked about everything, from the old days, to what was new with her since then.
“I've been living here in LA since graduation," she told him. “I had a huge fight with my parents and moved here with a friend. My friend didn't last a month, and moved back, but I stayed. It was definitely a learning experience. I was broke, living in a rat-infested studio apartment in the worst part of this city, and for awhile I was hanging out with some really shady people, which is how I met my husband."
At the word husband, Elliot's stomach lurched. “You're married?" he squeaked.
She laughed. “Oh god no, not anymore. It didn't last long." She trailed off here, and Elliot sensed she didn't want to talk about it, so he looked away. Elizabeth smiled, and took another sip of her wine. “Anyway, I'm doing great down. I've been working for Virgin Atlantic for five years now, and I have a cute little condo on the beach. My life is busy, but enjoyable. What about you? Are you married?"
“Who, me? No," he lied. “I've just been, you know, busy, with my career... guess I haven't had time to settle down with anyone."
She nodded, and he looked carefully at her expression. Was it just his imagination, or had she just beamed? “So are you seeing anyone?" he asked her a minute later.
She paused. “Not officially," she finally admitted. Another pause. “I guess I'm like you. Haven't found the right person yet. Plus, I work a crazy schedule. I guess I'm just too picky," she laughed. He couldn't believe such a lovely, breath-taking woman was still available! This was too good to be true.
They had several rounds of drinks together, and every time her glass of wine went half-empty he'd single to the bartender to bring another. The entire night he kept his eyes focused on her, never once tiring at looking at how beautiful she was. He could see her face becoming flushed and her eyes looked tired yet she was animated, even flirting with him. He became excited. Soon they were the only two still left in the restaurant and they sat with their heads close together, knees touching, talking in hushed voices. He could clearly see she was fairly tipsy. Suddenly she let out a huge breath. “I don't usually drink this much," she admitted slowly. “I guess I'm just tired and it felt good to talk to someone from my neck of the woods... sometimes I really miss our old school, don't you?"
“Well, not really," he admitted. “I wasn't popular like you were." This created an awkward silence, and fearful he'd blow it, he tried to distract her by tentatively placing the tips of his fingers on her knee. At his touch he sensed her shiver, and instinctively she brought her legs closer together. He quickly let his hand drop, and said, casually as possible, “You look tired. Would you like me to walk you to your room?"
“Sure," she responded, and he stood up. “Hold on," she said, and picking up her glass, she downed the rest of her wine in one go. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she smiled sheepishly up at him, but he only laughed, and arm in arm, they began walking back towards the elevator.
She leaned heavily against him and he realized she was a lot drunker than he had realized. He held her tightly as they waited for the elevator, and when the double doors opened and they walked in alone, she began to grind against him passionately. He immediately got a massive boner and couldn't stop himself; he leaned down and began kissing her slender neck. She let out a loud moan. “Kiss me," she whispered. He didn't hesitate; pulling her face towards his, he began to kiss her beautiful mouth – a soft, wet kiss, and her hands were all over his body. After a moment the kiss broke and he continued to kiss her cheek, her chin, her ear. “Oh god, oh god," she whispered over and over.
The elevator doors opened and he led her off, but she quickly took the lead, leading him to her room. Once inside they made a mad dash for each other again. Part of him wanted to rip her clothes off and be inside her, and the other part wanted to slow down and enjoy this moment. Before he could make up his mind, she started to pull away. “Wait," she said. It took all his self control for him to stop. “What is it?"
She didn't say anything for a moment. She was breathing hard, and he could smell the alcohol on her breath. She stumbled across the hotel floor and turned on the lamp near the bed. Bathed in light, he could see her face was flushed, her bun loose, her eyes slightly blood-shot, but she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Yet he could tell she looked troubled. She sat on the edge of the bed. “I have to tell you something," she said. “I... lied earlier." She paused again, and he waited for her to continue. “When I acted like I didn't know you... I was lying. I did recognize you. I recognized you immediately, I just... I don't know. I don't know why I pretended..." she trailed off, and he could tell she was visibly distressed.
He walked towards her, sat on the bed next to her, and put his arms around her. “Don't worry about it," he heard himself saying as he stroked her soft hair. “Why are you so upset? It's no big deal."
“No, it is," came her muffled response.
“What?"
She lifted her head to look at him, her soft brown eyes troubled. “It is a big deal," she said quietly. “I was embarrassed. I..." she sighed. “You were one of the most unpopular kids in our school. And when I saw you tonight, I knew immediately, just by looking at you, that you were successful, happy, fulfilled. I felt so inadequate next to you... like a loser for not being as successful as you. I was embarrassed. I didn't want to face you." she sighed. “Plus, I was so attracted to you."
Elliot was flattered. “Wow," he said. “I'm flattered, really. But it's okay. You're right, I was a loser in high school."
“No--" she began.
“No, it's okay, I was. But you don't have to feel like this. You aren't a loser. When I saw you tonight, I was blown away, I had forgotten how beautiful you are... look at you, even know... you're so..." he trailed off and they began kissing passionately again. She began moaning again and he began tugging at the waist band of her red skirt roughly. Suddenly it broke free and he realized he had broke the zipper. Pulling it down roughly, he could see her little white panties and her thighs. Her crotch was wet, and he could see her pubic hair, so thick and dark, right through the white panties. “God," he whispered, and began to reach for them.
But she stopped him. “Wait. I'm not sure about this."
“What? What's wrong?"
“I... I don't want to give you the wrong impression. I'm really not this kind of girl. I'm not easy. I really like you, I don't want you to think--"
“I could never think like that about you," he told her tenderly, and began to pull at them again, but she stopped him, again, this time more firmly. “No, don't. Please. Let's just call it a night. We can see each other again..."
But he knew he'd never get another chance with this girl. When this trip was over, he'd go back to Denver. Back to his wife and kids. He'd never get this opportunity again. “No," he said flatly, in a voice completely unlike his. Without waiting for her response, he grabbed her wrists—hard--and forced them to the mattress.
She was so taken aback she didn't respond right away, but he began tugging at her panties again and she yelled. “Stop it!" she shrieked, trying to push him off her. But he was too strong. They began to struggle, and he wrestled with her for a minute. Soon he had her on her back, her wrists firmly placed to the mattress, unable to move. She became scared. “This isn't a joke," she said. “Get off of me now," but he ignored her and the next thing she knew, she could feel added pressure on her arms. “What are you doing?!" she shrieked, and as she looked up she saw he was tying her wrists to the bed posts with her shredded skirt. Soon she was tied securely, and he stood up. She tried to move, but she couldn't, and he watched her for a minute, pleased at the look in her eyes.
Now she was scared. “What is going on!? Let me go!!" she began to cry, and the tears streamed slowly down her face. “What has gotten into you? I thought... I thought... did you plan this?"
Elliot didn't respond right away. He was so turned on by Elizabeth, half naked on the bed tied up, completely at his mercy. His cock began to grow to full potential as he thought of all the possibilities. He could feel something slowly crossing over in him, though he didn't know what. “This is for your own good," he could hear his voice saying. She began to cry some more and protest, but he didn't listen as he got up and went into the bathroom to retrieve something.
As he walked back into the room, he stepped out of his clothes and was soon standing in front of her naked, his throbbing dick dripping with pre-come. Never in all his life had he felt so horny. His cock was aching, but he took his time. He was going to treasure this.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. She could see something shiny in his hand, but she didn't know what. “W-what are you doing?" she asked through her tears, and he could see she had been crying so much she had drenched her shirt, making it transparent. Her hard, dark nipples poked out. Without thinking he began ripping her shirt off, exposing her bra. Then he lifted his hand and she saw he held a large pair of shiny silver scissors. Her eyes widened. “ W-what are you going to do?!?! Please don't hurt me! You're a f***ing psycho!" But he ignored all of this and slowly began to cut her bra right off her chest, making sure not to accidentally cut her skin; the sharp scissors sheared through the material easily and with the last snip, broke free, and her large, supple breasts sprung out. He was aching so much now and concentrated with every once of self-control not to jump her. Instead, he lowered the scissors and began cutting her panties straight up the slit until her pussy was exposed. Then he ripped them off her waist, throwing them to the floor. He looked down and saw her pubic hair was as thick as the hair on her head. Thick, dark hair which had probably never been cut. It nearly drove him mad with desire; there was nothing he loved more than f***ing a woman with a thick patch of pubic hair. He reached up and also began undoing the bun on her head; her hair came loose and cascaded down over her chest and pillow. Her hair drove him crazy; it was so beautiful, and he knew now he had to do it, he just had to.
Now Elizabeth was stark naked on the bed, her wrists still securely tied to the bed posts, but her legs were kicking freely. Worried she would kick him where it would matter, he gathered up the rest of her clothes and used them to tightly fasten her kicking ankles to the bottom of the bed. Now all her limbs were tied and she couldn't move at all. He stared down at this beautiful girl, powerless and crying, enjoying it all.
Elizabeth continued to cry. “Please," she said through her sobs," please don't rape me, Elliot. Don't do this to me, I'll do anything you want, I'll--"
Elliot finally spoke. “I'll make a deal with you," he said quietly, and Elizabeth stopped crying, looking up at him hopefully. “I won't rape you," he told her. “But I am going to go down on you; you'd like that, wouldn't you?"
She responded by spitting in his face “No," she said hotly, panting deeply, “this is so wrong and perverse. You're an absolute monster." Yet, he could tell she almost liked the idea and he was glad she was so against it. He would enjoy beating her into submission.
“Tell you what," he said, “I'll go down on you for five minutes, and if you can sit there without having an orgasm, then I won't... punish you."
Without waiting for her to respond, he dove down with vigor and began to devour her hairy pussy. He started off slow and gentle, softly licking her slit and around her clit. Since he had tied her legs, her thighs were pulled apart, but he could feel the muscles begin to tense, and he could tell if she wasn't tied up she'd have brought her thighs together to wrap around his head. He continued to lick her, slowing gaining speed, then he was lapping at her clit. She began to tense and moan, and her pussy was wet with her juices. It excited him so much to see her like this, and he continued to lick her clit, hard, over and over. Now she was screaming with pleasure. “No, stop," she said, but there was no real authority in her voice, and suddenly, without warning, she began to scream, her pussy contracted, and he could feel her push her pelvis up to meet his mouth in a powerful orgasm. He continued to softly lick her until she settled down, then he slowly sat up and without missing a beat, grabbed a handful of her thick hair – the same hair he had fantasized about so many years ago - brought the scissors to her nape and slowly closed the blades around it. He began cutting through her thick hair, lock by lock, and she was still so weak from orgasm that she didn't realize until he had already cut off a huge portion of her hair what he was doing. Suddenly she gasped and began to flail around on the bed, shrieking. “Stop it! What are you doing! Please, Elliot, please, not my hair, not my hair!" But it was too late, and if anything, her cries of anguish just turned him on more and spurred him on. He cut all her hair, and it fell around her in thick masses, covering her naked body. Soon her hair was completely shorn, and her once beautiful mane was now reduced to an uneven shag cut. He was still horny, so he brought the scissors down and without missing a beat, began to attack her pubic hair, cutting it short and crass. When he was finished, she was crying hysterically, and quickly, before his boner diminished, he ran into the bathroom to collect a razor and shaving cream, and began to shave her pussy bald. Soon it was smooth and clean looking, and he wiped it with a damp cloth to get rid of the stray hair, then immediately mounted her and began to f*** her bald pussy. She was moaning again and he f***ed her hard, watching her huge tits move back and forth until he came.
When he was finished he got off her, then covered her head with shaving cream and slowly began to shave her head. He brought the razor up and down her head slowly, careful not to miss a spot. By this time she was so tired and beaten that she no longer fought, but sat there idly while he shaved her. Soon she was bald, and he looked down at this girl who now looked like a stranger to him.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour, he slowly began to untie her.
