Author's Note
Dear readers,
This is a slow-burn, emotionally layered erotic story with strong literary leanings. If you're looking for quick-release material, this may not be your cup of tea. But if you're drawn to stories about intimacy, healing, and transformation, I hope you'll find something meaningful here.
Room 1203 may particularly resonate with women struggling with body image, or anyone who seeks sexual connection as a form of self-discovery or spiritual experience.
I welcome all feedback, especially constructive criticism. Whether you loved it or hated it, I would deeply appreciate knowing why. Thank you for reading.
Table of Contents
Part 1: The Proposition
Part 2: Room 1203
Part 3: Goddess
Part 4: Union
Part 5: Bliss
Part 6: The Becoming
Epilogue
Part 1: The Proposition
Daniel loved being in Austin, but he wasn't particularly loving it as he made his way from the Archer Hotel's elevator to its bar. The hotel was far enough from 6th Street, but he still heard the music from those bars floating up like ghost notes, bringing back memories of the time that he himself had indulged in the all-night drunken revelry that accompanied the music. Right now though, he just wanted a drink. And silence - the kind he sought within himself, the one he tried to come home to whenever the world threw him a curveball. He plopped down on a barstool, ordered a bourbon, and sat there sipping slowly, feeling the warm burn of the alcohol as it trickled down from his throat to his chest to his stomach.
"Rough day?" asked a quiet voice on the barstool next to him.
Daniel swung his barstool around to face her. She wasn't the kind of woman who demanded instant attention, but something about her struck Daniel - the way a song stirs something that you forgot. Her dark brown eyes matched her hair. Her dress - navy, silky, hugging the soft roundness of her hips and breasts, yet loose enough to be stylishly casual - added to her allure. Her dark blue fingernails matched the dress and her wedding ring caught the light from the chandeliers above.
"Yes. I'm here for a convention that started off rather well, then got worse and went completely into the toilet today." He smiled.
She laughed. Daniel thought her laugh blended in perfectly with the melodic tinkle of glasses at the bar. She smoothed her dress as she said, "That bad, huh? I guess you deserve a drink for that."
"Yup... that's why I'm here. Cheers," Daniel said, raising his glass toward her.
She looked at him as she clinked her glass lightly against his, her brown eyes reflecting something he couldn't read - Sadness? Loneliness? Fatigue? Weariness with the world? Fragility? Nothing really seemed to fit exactly. She smoothed her dress again as she said, "Cheers. To making it through the day."
Her comment actually made him feel cheerful. "You're right. We're still alive, so what's to complain about? Although I guess we're actively working against that by downing alcohol. Maybe I'll order a Sprite next." He laughed.
She laughed with him. "Well, I'm glad I could help you with your Alcoholics Anonymous membership."
Conversation was easy after that. They mostly talked about nothing - the weather, what she was in town for, bad conference food, the Austin music scene. He noticed her as she sat, almost as if she didn't trust herself in the dress, the most frequent of her many little tics being her running her left hand diagonally down her chest - not smoothing her dress, but feeling something below it. Trying to erase it, or trying to make sure it was still there? He couldn't really tell. As they ordered a second round of drinks - Daniel actually getting a Sprite - he said, "Your dress is very pretty, you know... and you look beautiful in it. But I noticed that you keep touching it as if... I don't know what."
She looked at him, sadness in her eyes. "Maybe I used to feel beautiful, I don't know when." She held her drink in both hands and twirled the glass around. "But then... stuff happened... and I just... don't anymore. Let's say looking in the mirror isn't my favourite activity. I'm just practical, I guess."
Daniel looked at her pensively, not sure how to react. Then he realized that they still hadn't exchanged names, and tried to change the topic. "Hmm... by the way, I realized we haven't exchanged names yet. Not that they're necessary anyway, but let's play a little game. How about we try to guess each other's names?"
She smiled. "Okay, that's a nice distraction I guess. You go first."
Daniel pretended to think hard. "I think you look like a... Stephanie." He smiled. "Correct?"
She laughed. "Not even close. And I think you are... Derek. How close did I get?"
He laughed with her. "I guess you got closer than I did, so you win." He reached out his hand. "Okay, I'm Derek." And that's who he would be - for tonight, at least.
She shook his hand, still laughing. "And I'm Stephanie. Do I get a prize for winning?"
"Hmm, unfortunately I hadn't thought that far ahead. Well, go ahead and make up something." He shrugged, smiling. "I dunno... maybe you get to kiss my hand? Or maybe I need to bow down and kiss your feet? Whatever strikes your fancy... I'm up for it."
She looked straight at him and held the gaze long enough to make him slightly uncomfortable. "Okay, I'll think up something good... I just need a little time to think about it." She turned away from him and sat facing the bar, staring straight ahead and holding her drink with both hands. She didn't say anything for a minute, so Derek swiveled towards the bar too and sipped his drink in silence.
A few long minutes later, just as he cast a glance to find her sitting exactly as she was before, she said, to nobody in particular, "There's a nice view of the river from Room 1203."
Derek stared at her, slightly stunned. He had just been propositioned for a one-night stand by a married woman in a random hotel bar. Before he could think, he blurted out, "Is that an invitation?"
She kept staring straight ahead. "I don't know... and why do you assume that's my room number?" Her voice cracked, and she briefly hung her head. A tear appeared in the corner of her eye.