First Meeting 88

We met at a hotel bar. Cliché, but it worked for what we had in mind.

I couldn't stop staring at his lips, and before long I was kissing him at the table. Long, hot, shameless kisses that were not meant to imply anything other than our desire for each other. There was a long white tablecloth, which hid what our hands were doing from anyone not standing right on top of us.

I ignored my wine and experimented with how far I was willing and able to go in public with him. He sat back with his drink and let me figure it out on my own. Rubbing his crotch was easy. Undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans was mildly more risqué.

I let him graze his hand across my nipples and run his hand up my thigh beneath my dress. After a while the pretence was pointless and we left money on the table and hurried across the lobby to get a room. He politely opened the door for me, and after that all signs of the sweet gentleman vanished in an instant, which is of course what I had been counting on.

I found myself pinned up against the wall beside the door- wrists pulled high over my head and held with one of his hands. The other hand quickly reached under my skirt, pulled down the black lace panties, hitched my left leg over his hip and started rubbing my clit. Within 10 seconds of being in that room, not even past the doorway he had me wet and moaning.

I struggled to release my hands to touch him. I wanted to undo his pants and rub the hardness I could feel pressed up against me, but he wouldn't release my wrists. He pulled down the straps of my dress and bra and released my breast. Fist licking, then sucking, then biting.

Finally he released me long enough to lead me to the bed, pull of my dress and bra, and quickly take off his own clothes. He left on my stockings, and I could feel the pleasant friction of them rubbing against him and he pushed me down on the bed and crawled on top of me.

For the longest time we just kissed and let our hands roam where they may. He would rub his cock against my hot slippery cunt, but wouldn't go any further. I think he wanted me to beg, but I had already decided that I could wait as long as he could. I wanted him to take it - to take me. I wanted him to lose all control and finally just thrust into me as hard and unrelentingly as he could.

I don't know which of us gave first. Suddenly all I could feel was our bodies pressed together, his cock slamming into me, and me begging him not to stop. My back was arched and my legs were hooked around his waist. My nails dug into his ass, his hips, his back. Anything that I could do to bring him closer to me.

Then he had my wrists pinned again above my head. He pulled my legs over his shoulders and pumped into me even deeper. Never had I felt such exquisite pain and pleasure. I clutched the headboard above my head and was beyond moaning or gasping. Yet he didn't stop. He kept riding me longer and harder and faster until finally he came with practically a scream.

Then he asked if he could tie me up...

Of course he could tie me up. How polite that he would ask. Why else did I have silk scarves in my bag?

(Duchess trivia: ever since I heard what is most likely an urban legend (or was it a Stephen King novel?) about the woman who was handcuffed in a cabin and her partner died of a heart attack, handcuffs make me a bit squeamish. And not in a good way)

I lay there pleasantly sated and let him run the scarves teasingly all over me. Tickling. Tantalizing.

He seemed to be considering his options.... Eventually he stood me up on the ground, and tied my wrists above my head to one of the bed posts. Then he knelt down. Odd to see a man in this position. But in a good way.

He licked up my thighs and caressed behind my knees accidentally finding one of my hidden hot spots. Gently rubbing behind my knee almost generally makes me want to pounce. I let out a gasp and he seemed quite pleased with himself, seeing the resulting wetness. He pulled my hips towards him and buried his tongue between my legs. But only for a few moments. Just enough to make my eyes glaze a bit and my breathing speed up. I heard myself making little mewling sounds which he seemed to enjoy.

Then he picked me up, hands still suspended above me and impaled me on his cock. My legs wrapped around his waist, back arched against the bed post. He yanked my hair back with glorious force and started sucking on my tongue. Then biting my earlobes, neck and nipples. I would have thought that this position would be limiting, but he managed to slam into me with surprising strength and stamina.

He eventually untied my hands, and lay on the bed. With my hands free I was able to play with his nipples, and scratch him while riding him. I do appreciate a man who can handle a bit of roughness without being a baby about it.

He then sat up, reached down and started rubbing my clit while I rode him. He held my wrists behind me and I again arched my back and just went with the sensations, almost losing the ability to concentrate on keeping up the rhythm with him.

I could have gone on like this forever, but suddenly I felt him thrusting a bit harder and faster, and then there was nothing but exquisite release...