(āSheā was outlined by a friend, I tidied it up a little, then wrote the āHeā to complete the story.)
SHE:
A light, kiss on the lips when we meet, a drink, a chat, some touching. I do so like to reach out and touch someone when I'm talking to them. You looked rather nervous when you walked through that door. I recognised you easily from your pictures, but the glasses had been replaced by the contact lens. So, I was going to have to wait to find out the technicalities of kissing a guy with specs. I worked hard at putting you at your ease. I didnāt take you long to find your confidence, your easy smile. You knew why we were here, knew why I was prepared to meet you like this. Unless you did something really gross, you were going to fuck me ā and if your recent conversations where anything to go by, you were going to fuck my virgin ass. I could feel the heat in my face, a warm dampness between my thighs. God, this was really happening. You were here, sitting across the small table, eyes glinting with the reflected light of the ornamental candle between us.
I could not help an apprehensive shiver ā the intimate knowledge that you had about me, the things that I had told you about myself - It made me feel so vulnerable, so bare, already naked before you. It was also intensely erotic.
We exchanged some meaningless, banal pleasantries, dancing lightly around the subject that had to be on both of our minds. We reached around the candle, hands touching arms. I stroked your bare skin, enjoying the contact and drank deeply. You insisted on a bottle of wine, over my protests, but you seemed strangely insistent. Once the wine had come we drank a toast, a silent one of meaningful looks and promise of things to come. You reached up to my shoulder, your touch was light and gentle, but soon became more confident, as if it was slowly sinking inā¦ I was here. I was sitting across from you, letting you touch me. I found your gaze slightly uncomfortable, did you realise how much you stared? The intensity of your gazeā¦ the caress of your hand. God you were making me hot. I loved the way you kissed my hands, each finger tip. For every intimate secret of mine, I knew some of yours. The things you thought about, the things that turned you on. Can I blame it on the drink? It would be a lie, of course, but this was night of dreams and fantasies, what would be the harm of one more small one?
As casually as possible, I let one hand drop into my lap. Your eyes followed the movementā¦ did you guess what I was going to do. You couldnāt see, although you did lean forward a little, but the edge of the table, and my skirt hid me from you. I had chosen a quiet corner, my body shielded me from the bar, the rest of the room. My fingers trembled as I reached under the hem of the short skirt, the smooth skin of my thighs burned as I sought the damp crotch of my g string. You gazed steadily, deep into my soul, as I slipped past the flimsy barrier, easing two fingers into my liquid heat. God, I was wet, dripping with the juices your mere presence had set free. My thumb stroked the unaccustomed smoothness of my mons ā I couldnāt wait to see your face when you discovered that I had gone smooth, for you, for this night. Oh god, it felt good. You saw something in my face, the way your eyes widened, mouth opening - and I had to stifle the moan that leapt to the tip of my tongue. I could see the desire in your eyes, how you forced your self to remain stillā¦ frozen in fear of the mirage before you vanishing in puff of smoke. My body shuddered when I withdrew my fingers, leaving a wet smear on my thigh. Slowly, I raised my hand, fingers extended, up over the table and paused, our eyes locked on them, gleaming with my moisture in the subtle light.
You caught my write in your hand, no tentative touch this time, and pulled it to you waiting mouth. I loved the way you closed your eyes, and inhaling the scent of me, like you were nosing a fine wine. That act used to embarrass me so muchā¦ now it made my cunt clench in anticipation. You so clearly enjoyed the experience, the aroma of meā¦ how could it not be a turn on. When you first suggested that as something you wished somebody would do for you, my first reactions was that I was talking to one sick puppy after all. But then I could not get the idea of my headā¦ see what you do to me? Then your mouth opened, your tongue flickered over my honeyed fingers, tasting me. Then your mouth dipped forward, engulfing, sucking them into you. You closed your eyes, savouring me, tongue sliding between my fingers, seeking every fragrant smear.
You pulled my fingers back, released them and looked at me once more, you eyes seeming to struggle as they shifted focus.
āAgainā¦ do that again..ā you whispered.
This time I did moan as I fingered my dripping pussy, I can hardly remember being so horny ā we had barely touched each other, and a few deep strokes and hard rub and I would be coming ā noisily, in the middle of the bar. With a conscious effort, I extracted my fingers and raised them to the table once more, but this time you pressed my fingers to my own mouth ā I sucked them clean with as much enthusiasm as you had shown, and your expression had me squirming in the chair. The blatant crudity, raw sexuality of what we doing had my heart racing, my blood pounding in my earsā¦ sitting in a public place, cool air on my hot pussy while you used my own pussy flavoured fingers to fuck my mouth.
Now you slip your hand under the table, greedy for me, your hand sliding up my stocking clad thigh, higher, up untilā¦ aaah. I watched you grin at the expression on my face, and didnāt give a damn. Then it was my turn to grin, a little breathlessly, as stopped suddenly and with a wicked grin you discovered my little surprise.
You groaned sweetly, fingers exploring my velvet smooth mound. You teased me, the lightest touch on my clitoris, the brush of your knuckles along my parted lipsā¦. That was the final straw. This is not only getting too hot to handle in the bar, I've neglected to tell you I'm a quick fuck. When I want it, I just need it hard and fast and forget about the niceties. I whisper as much to you, adjusted my wet underwear and you settled the drinks bill. Just as I started rise, you asked with a formally serious expression if you should bring the wine bottle. It took a moment to sink inā¦ and then blushed furiously. Why on earth had I told you about that! Being fucked to an explosive orgasm by a wine bottle was not something I shared easily. I cursed you under my breath, and then had to laugh at your injured, innocent expression. You bastard! I took your hand and dragged you, out of the bar.
I led you towards the elevators intending to head straight for my room, but we pass a cleaners storage room on the way ā and being in such a state, I just could not resist the opportunity it offered. I looked around quickly, then pushed you inside. You made no protest, and in moments we were embracing, your hands on my bare ass under my skirt, your hardness squashed between us.
I resisted the urge to go straight to it - I wanted kissing. I wanted it like you meant it, like you've thought of nothing else but exploring my mouth. The hard length of you pressed insistently against meā¦ forget what I said about needing your cock jammed in my cunt, or your mouth on mine, I needed to taste of you there and then. I slid down your body and unzipped you, struggled with your belt a moment, then tugged your trousers and underwear down. Your cock sprang out, a ridged curve of pleasingly erect manhood. Not licking, no teasing ā I jammed as much of you into my mouth as I could handle, hardly noticing the knot your fingers made in my hair, pulling me onto you. I had wanted your dick in mouth for so longā¦ it didnāt seem real, feeling you throbbing against the back of my throat, dreamlike.
I could taste your pre cum, and was suddenly visualising you grunting and thrusting, spurting down my throat. I squeezed the base of your cock hard, and pulled back. I didn't want to waste your cum in my mouth, I had needed that taste of you, the feel your cock squeezed down my throat. But overwhelmingly, I wanted you deep in my cunt. I may have moaned my frustrationā¦ because you seemed to sense my dilemma, and pulled me to my feet. You spun me around, facing the wall and pressed me forward making me stoop. I do so love a man in control. You quickly brushed my skirt up, exposing my rear, your hands warm and firm on the roundness of my arse. There was a hunger, and urgency about you that matched my own perfectly. You pulled the narrow strip of my g-string aside as I reached out and braced my hands on the shelving. At last, you stuck your fingers up my cunt, (God I love that word. It does if for me like no other.) Two fingers, deep in me, pressing hard, your palm almost lifting me off the ground.
You're in no hurry, but I beg you just to fuck me, and you oblige indulgently. I moaned when you pulled your fingers from my clinging depths ā partly at loss, partly in anticipation.
The hot touch of your wet tip made me gasp, and then you were pushing into me, meeting the slightest of resistance, as my swollen lips folded in, protecting the portal to heaven. You pulled out of me a little and then give it to me hard, and I take it up to the hilt. Aagghhh... In a few fast, deep strokes, I was trying to stifle the cries of a cunt clenching orgasm as you hunched over me, hilt deep and bathed my cervix with spurts of semenā¦ I love a man who can let go and just give it to me as fast as I need it. It's such a compliment. The feel of him rutting in me, and his cum dripping out of me......
