You have just moved to a new flat and it's my first time visiting you here. I find myself in a new city, far from home and wrecked by jet lag. I wake up in near darkness, alone in your bed with no idea what time it is. Stumbling from the bedroom in nothing but my panties and t-shirt, I call out to you in the twilight.
"I'm here, baby," you call back and my feet move towards your voice without a conscious prompt. I find you on your odd little rooftop porch. It's more like a built-in bench than a porch really and wedged in between the dormers of the building five stories up. There you are in the golden light just beginning to fade, beer by your side, facing the french doors where I'm lingering.
Rubbing my eyes, I yawn and ask what time it is.
"I'm not sure," you say with a small smile. "Come here, sleepy girl."
I tug at the hem of my t-shirt (your t-shirt, actually) and peer out and towards the sky. I am trying to gauge how many eyes would be on me traipsing around your rooftop barely clothed.
"I can't," I squeak. "People will see. Let me go find something to put on."
"They're my neighbors. Let me worry about the scandal," you tease. "Come here."
I smile and pat towards you in my bare feet. Stopping between your spread knees, I look up at you through tousled chocolate curls with a sleepy smile. I'm still surprised to wake up and find you nearby after so long apart. I feel like I'm dreaming.
"I can't believe I'm here," I say.
"I know. I'd almost forgotten how good you look in my bed." Then with a sexy little smile you add, "I had to leave the room or else you weren't going to get any sleep at all."
Even in the setting sun you can see my blush as my eyes go down to my toes. Hooking your finger beneath my chin, you raise my face. "And look right at me, tiny girl. Let me see your blush."
Your hands are loose fists, and you run the back of your knuckles lightly up and down the outside of each of my thighs. Your skin gently grazing mine and leaving trails of goosebumps behind.
"What can I get you, baby?" you ask with concern. "What do you need?"
My only answer is to inch forward and nuzzle your neck right where it meets the worn collar of your shirt.
"You should be resting," you say. But I don't hear much conviction in your tone.
"But, I just woke up," I counter. I plant small, wet kisses along the side of your neck, moving upwards from your collarbone.
"Then maybe I should run you a bath, baby." Your voice is unsteady. "Would you like that?"
"But, I've been clean for far too long," I pant. I begin to nip my teeth along the underside of your jaw, moving from the front and back towards your ear.
"Maybe," you stop suddenly to clear your throat. "Maybe I should make you something to eat? Are you hungry?"
My mouth is just below your ear and I whisper, "Yes. So very hungry." Then I take your earlobe in my mouth and suck gently.
"Pretty girl," you breathe out in a whisper. "Oh, I've missed you."
You scoop me up in your arms effortlessly and turn me around to sit on your lap so that my back is pressed to the front of your body. My hands move behind me to fist into your shirt and cling to you the only way I can in that position. Both your hands come around, cross at the wrist and firmly palm my breasts. Even through my sleep deprived haze, my nipples are instantly hard, sweetly gouging your palms. I arch eagerly into your touch as your rough hands slide across the thin layer between our skin. As soon as you touch my body, my breathing changes and I start squirming against you.
From the corner of my eye I see that you're biting firmly down on your bottom lip. "I want to be gentle, kitten. I know it's been awhile. But I'm not sure -" you voice trails off.
I start to laugh but I'm brought up short when your fingers find my nipples and give firm tug. I gasp and then spit out, "I didn't fly across an ocean to be treated like the fine china, sweet boy." I grind my ass against your lap. "Rattle me, please," I beg.
Your hands move to the underside of my thighs and hoist me up. "Bend those knees, kitten. I want them under you now." I comply and find myself kneeling on your thighs, facing the doorway to your kitchen across the small patio.
Your right hand comes up to rest loosely around my throat which makes me moan. I turn into your neck to muffle the sound.
"Have you missed this? My touch?"
I bite my lip and nod, my eyes closed.
"What do good girls say when they get something they want?"
"Oh, thank you," I whisper quietly as your other hand, the dominant left one, goes first to your mouth and then slides quickly down my body and into the soft white lace of my panties. A primal sound bubbles up from deep inside my body when you make contact. I clamp my right hand across my own mouth in an attempt to stay silent.
"Fuck, baby," you breath against my neck while your fingers start rolling in tight little circles against the gusset of my panties. "That stiff little clit of yours is aching for me, isn't it?"
I nod my head and whimper quietly as I tug on your wrist, urging it lower.
You bite me gently below the ear. "Do you want those fingers inside you, my pretty little slut?"
I gasp at your language but nod vigorously all the same, pressing my hips forward hoping to entice you. My brain is starting to short circuit a bit at all the attention you're lavishing on the tight bundle of nerves between my legs.
"That mouth of yours does excellent work. Use that vicious little vocabulary to convince me, baby. Tell me where you want my fingers."
The sun is beginning to set behind us and I can barely make out our reflection in the glass door leading into your flat. There I am, the city outlined behind us, with my legs spread just enough to allow your deft fingers to move like hungry little animals between my legs. The sight makes me simultaneously weak and wet. I turn my face into your neck and take a long draw of your scent, the one I've missed so much. It's almost my undoing.
"Please, please, I'll be good," I pant.
"Where, baby," you taunt. "Where do you want my fingers?"
I give an exasperated little grunt "I want them, I want -". I begin to blush furiously. I can feel the wetness gathering in my panties. Turning me into such a filthy little creature makes me so hot, but it's always a challenge to get over my initial hesitation at being so graphic.
"Come on baby. Shy girls don't get to come."
"Put your fingers inside me," I rush. "I want them buried deep in my tight little pussy."
You reward me immediately by plunging one long finger inside my wet little slit. I buck up against your invading hand and continue to bury my voice and face in your neck.
"Yes, my good girl," you purr. "That's it. All you have to do is ask."
I am desperate for you at this point. My body feels tight. Almost without conscious thought I turn towards your throat and sink my teeth into the flesh along your collarbone.
"Fuck!" you grunt. The hand on my neck tightens and turns my face outward. "No more hiding, little kitten. Turn that hot little mouth of yours out." Your fingers move to grip the underside of my jaw and turn my face out to the air.
I began to whimper and struggle in earnest. "Someone will hear. Please!"
"Oh yes, they'll hear alright," you murmur darkly. "They'll hear you begging for a second finger. Won't they?"
You pull your slick digit from deep within me and begin to gently run two fingers up and down my wet little gash. My sweet little pink lips are already so swollen and sensitive. I bring my clenched fists up and press both to my mouth. Guttural sounds escape from the edges of my lips.
The grip on my neck suddenly intensifies and as a result, the rest of my body freezes instantly. Instinctively my hands fly to my neck and try to pry your grip loose.
"Where do those hands belong?" you growl against my neck. "Hmm? Where?" you ask sharply.
I begin to lower them and your grip on my throat loosens.
"That's a good girl." I move my hands behind me and fist your shirt against my back again. You tip my chin up as high as it goes and slide both fingers resting between my legs deep within me. You lick slowly up my neck and breathe heavily against my skin.
"Mmh. You look so good when you do what you're told, pretty girl. Make some noise for me now."
But I am still very much aware of how exposed we are. I'm reasonably sure no one can see me from the front, but open windows are all around us and the street below is dotted with pedestrians. I clamp my mouth shut tightly and start to buck my hips against your hand.
"Look at me," you say while keeping my neck fully extended. I raise my eyes to yours. "Still bent on having your way and being silent?" I don't trust myself with any sort of response so I just look you straight in the eye.
"Stubborn little thing," you chuckle. "A battle of wills then? We'll see who wins, little girl." My eyes screw shut as your thumb joins the game to press relentless circles against my tiny clit while your two other fingers continue to plunge in and out of my swollen little slit.
I force a burst of air out through my nose and groan quietly against my lips, still pressed firmly together. I thrash once against your firm hold, anger bubbling up at your tactics, already embarrassed by my wanton display in the evening sun.
"No, kitten. I don't plan to play fair."
I go inward and try to focus on my breathing and the delicious pressure of your hands on my body. I've missed this so much over the last months. The way your scent shifts sharply when you get aroused, the salty taste of your skin, and the rough cadence of your breath when you know I'm close to coming for you.
