I Cheated with Jake at the Hotel During Detention

It was natural for Lauren’s thoughts to wander while she sat in detention. Unlike her usual self, she was an artist but no daydreamer. There was nothing to do there but think, so her thoughts drifted far away as an escape. Of course she thought of her husband. He was the person closest to her, and the one who might arrange a rescue. She should never have been taken to that detention center in the first place. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead and cast a harsh glow on the concrete walls, making every minute drag like hours. Lauren shifted on the hard bench and crossed her legs, feeling the scratch of the cheap uniform against her skin. She pictured Mike’s face, the way his jaw tightened when he worried, and she wondered how long it would take him to find a lawyer or pull strings back home in the suburbs of Atlanta. The immigration cop who brought her in had that swagger, boots echoing like he owned the place, and she hated how it made her feel small and powerless all over again.

Flashback to Japan

A day with him in Japan came to mind. They were visiting her family and watching television. A baseball game was on, and it featured a star now playing on a team in the American major league. He was one of the most popular people in Japan. Mike called out his name, then had trouble for a moment remembering which was the first name and which the last. Her parents and cousins looked confused for a moment. They weren’t used to hearing a foreigner speak. They liked Mike, and finally they understood. Mike pointed out that it was the beginning of the fourth inning and the score was already eight to four. The Japanese player, a pitcher, was having a bad game. There was activity around his team’s dugout. The manager stepped outside. And then, sure enough, the announcement came that the star had been lifted. Less than halfway through the contest, he was gone. The disastrous performance left the manager little choice. That rarely happened to him, but everyone occasionally had a bad day. Lauren remembered the smell of green tea and grilled fish drifting from the kitchen while the TV flickered, and how Mike’s voice cut through the quiet room like he was trying too hard to belong.

Mike said all this out loud, as if Lauren’s family needed an explanation of the broadcast in their own language. And it was true that no one was paying close attention. The TV was on mostly as a social aid. It gave Mike something to look at that he could comprehend in that environment, otherwise so foreign to him. Lauren appreciated Mike’s effort that day. She saw the difficulty of his position. Tears came to her eyes that wouldn’t have come ordinarily. She wasn’t sentimental. But being locked up in that prison, which didn’t look like one but was, made her emotional. And she thought of times when he couldn’t perform well. That happened to every man from time to time. And of course she’d assured him it didn’t matter. She could still feel the weight of his arm around her shoulders that afternoon, the soft cotton of his shirt against her cheek, and the way he laughed it off later when they were alone.

The Hotel Visit

She knew he felt impotent in her country. He struggled with the language and with simple everyday tasks he took for granted at home. His helpless flailing was painful to watch. But why did she think of this now? Was the reminder the immigration policeman who arrested her, or rather detained her, since there was nothing legal about it? He looked like he never failed at anything, completely in control, dominant, down to the heavy sound of his walk when he strode through that fluorescent-lit interior. His every footstep echoed confidence. Lauren thought of the contrast between him and Mike, and also of another man who in some ways, not many, reminded her of Chris. There was a similar pride, an arrogance in the way the two men handled themselves. She didn’t want to think she’d slept with a man like that, but she had. Well, they’d spent an afternoon together. Staying the night had never been even a remote possibility. In fact, she’d almost left during the first five minutes. The memory hit her hard now, the way Jake’s eyes had locked on hers across the hotel room, daring her to stay and see it through.

“Oh no you don’t. Not when you’ve come all the way here and got me all excited.” He faked annoyance at her behavior, arriving and right away turning around, saying she ought to go. “I should have let you know ahead of time.” She’d texted him en route, having made up her mind to accept his invitation on the spur of the moment. “Heh, I’m ready for you any time.” Jake smiled sunnily, then frowned again, getting back in character as the heavy. “But when you say you’re going to do something, you should follow through,” he admonished, holding Lauren’s gaze. “I didn’t say I was going to do anything.” Lauren averted her eyes, then laughed, no longer resisting his stare, which hadn’t left her for an instant. Her pulse kicked up and she felt heat bloom between her thighs even as she tried to play it cool.

She should make up her mind. Jake’s laughter that rang out during her visit to the hotel room seldom conveyed real irritation or impatience. His assurance, his calm, bolstered Lauren’s own, and readied her to lower her guard for the older man, to step beyond her rigid shell, which was part nervousness now, as she might step out of her clothes. Jake was able to, after all. She wanted to muster courage to match his, to show she was worthy of his expectations, not to disappoint them. And when she felt his hand go down her back as his eyes had at their first meeting, she betrayed no surprise and didn’t shiver. She knew, though, that the time to withhold any response at all was past. Her front pressed his, not ignoring but welcoming reality, and she let him see she too was a person to take seriously, a woman in all her dimensions in his hotel room, opening. “I want some,” she said. The tea, she meant. He’d coaxed her in deep by insisting she try with him. Here it was Jake who needed a moment to understand. When the import of her words reached him, he happily ignored them. “Please,” Lauren said, all but moaning like she meant something else, teasing cat-like behavior hardly recognizable to her, of a piece with her presence there. Anyone but Jake might have offered something stronger, even in midafternoon. Instead his fingers slid under her shirt and found bare skin, tracing the curve of her waist until she arched into him. She reached down and cupped the hard line of his cock through his pants, feeling it throb against her palm. “Fuck, you’re already soaked,” Jake growled, slipping his hand inside her panties to stroke her slick pussy lips. Lauren moaned and pushed her hips forward, grinding on his fingers as he rubbed her clit in slow circles. She tugged his zipper down and freed his thick dick, wrapping her fingers around the hot shaft and stroking him from base to tip. “Suck it,” he demanded, guiding her head down. Lauren dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth, tongue swirling over the head while she pumped the shaft with one hand. Jake thrust gently, fucking her mouth as she gagged and drooled, the wet sounds filling the room. He pulled her up, spun her around, and bent her over the bed. In one thrust he rammed his cock deep into her dripping cunt, pounding her hard from behind while his balls slapped her ass. “Harder, fuck me right there,” Lauren gasped, pushing back to meet every thrust. Jake reached around and pinched her nipples, then slid two fingers over her swollen clit until she came hard, pussy clenching and pulsing around his dick as she cried out his name. He kept thrusting through her orgasm, sweat slick on their skin, until he pulled out and sprayed hot cum across her ass and lower back. Lauren collapsed forward, breathing heavy, the taste of him still on her tongue and the smell of sex thick in the air.