I pull my coat around my waist and shudder... the evening is mild, but my skin is still slick with sweat from our encounter in the doorway a block back. My ass is a little warm from banging up against the brick, and I know that there will be scratches in the morning, not that I care. I stuff my underwear into my purse and quicken my step to keep up with you. You grab my hand and squeeze as you glance back at me, and I shudder again. I'm glad you don't live far from the train.
I run my hands along your back as you navigate the many locks on your front door. "You can never be too careful in this city," you say, and I hold back a laugh because I've never been so reckless in my life, no one knows where I am, I don't even have your name. You're in my phone as "Stranger."
I get wetter.
You hold the door for me, a gentleman, and before I can put my bag down you're behind me with my breasts in your hands, your breath in my ear, your teeth on my neck, your erection against my back. This is all I've been thinking about, I've been in such a frenzy that I actually touched myself a little on the train on my way tonight. Your hands, your eyes, your lips, your cock. I peel off my shirt and you waste no time yanking down the front of my bra, spilling out my breasts. I'm catching my breath, leaning against a little table in your hall, knocking stuff on the floor as you attack my aching nipples with your lips. "mmm," we both say. My nipples are a direct line to my clit, my head is buzzing and I'm sex-drunk. I unhook my bra and then grope for you in this darkness, I want to see you, the lines of you, the way you look at me as if you could literally fuck me with your eyes. Your tongue is working magic on my nipples, already hard and firm and my areolas puckered and tingling, you swirl around and around and then bite, my back arches and I knock even more table junk to the floor.