Meeting In The Stairwell

Heya ^-^, so this is a bit of a slower burn, and a different style than my others. It's also based on a true story, in so far as I did experience the lead-up, though of course getting caught and everything after was merely fantasy. Enjoy, and know that this is one of two parts.

CW: Public exhibition, dubious consent.

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I gaze patiently as the laundry detergent levels off at the first ring. Too much is bad for your clothes, or so I'd heard, and in any case, I'd rather stave off the inevitable trip to replace the tub. I spin my hand as it pours out, swirling the liquid into a tornado of concentrated slime which is as neat as a coil of rope in the basin. I toss a handful of laundry on top. I check the pockets, sort by color, and even figure out how to read those little symbols on the tag. It's a pretty ingenious code. The shape is the machine, the dots usually indicate temperature, and anything outside... well I suppose that's where the simplicity starts to break down. Plus, those are usually the only important ones, anyway. Throwing the last pair of pants into the machine, I look down at my legs. They shine out from my oversized hoodie, still in that perfect smoothness just after shaving. My face grows hot. With a tug of a drawstring, I undo my shorts, drop them from my hips, and place them in the washer.

I feel a drop of drool escape the mask I'm wearing. I dry it with my hand, tilting my head back to catch the saliva. The large plug in my mouth keeps it open and watering, as well as preventing me from speaking at all. I can't take it out, because in this little game of mine should I take it out I would have to place it in my ass, and while that had certainly been the original plan, as I toed closer to the line of nakedness my quickening heart got the better of me. I would just put it in after I got back to my apartment. Scanning my card, the machine whirrs into life. I head back down the hallway to the stairwell and freeze cold at the sound of a door opening. I suppose getting caught is part of the thrill, but it's generally not something you actually want to happen, at least if you're me. I consider taking the elevator. It's more direct, and I wouldn't come in the path of whoever was heading out the back of the building, but it could theoretically stop at any floor. Someone could get in and be close quarters with me. I would have a heart attack. I head for the stairs, thinking that this way, any interactions would at the very least be momentary.

First flight, I feel my sweater billow, flashing my ass out of the small stairwell window. My breath quickens, and in that exposure a fresh heat pools between my legs. Second flight. Third. And as I take the first step of the last set of stairs, I glance up. A man is standing at the top of the stairs. And no matter how hard I try to just keep walking, no matter the justification in my head that lots of people wear short shorts and I could simply be wearing a mask to cover a beard or because I am sick, I freeze. His eyes meet mine, and I feel myself revealed. I start to pant. Finally, my legs spring back into action, landing on the steps one at a time. I'm so close to safety -- so close to locking my door and getting this plug out of my mouth. I'll just walk past and even if he suspected something...

As I reach the top step, I realize he hasn't moved. He still stands, looking down at me, twin daggers piercing my blazing cheeks. Oh sorry, he says, and then asks if there's something wrong. Unable to speak, I simply stare back. I shake my head and try to walk past again. He steps in front of me. I feel drool pool in my mouth, dripping down the mask. A deep pit of dread tightens in my stomach, and suddenly I can't feel my legs anymore. Hey, he says, eyes searching my face, are you okay? I wonder if he can see how red it's becoming, how quick my breath has become, the new drop of drool I can feel pressing at the seam of the mask. I try to mumble out some noises of affirmation, eyes pleading. My heart feels as if it will explode at any moment, as it sinks into my stomach when I feel the drool hit my chest. He takes a step towards me. I flinch. One of his hands reaches towards me. I try to turn, run down the stairs, go to the elevator, just hide in the laundry room for a while. Something is stopping me. My feet are glued to the step and a single thought locks me rigid in place. The thought that, this, well, isn't this the point? Isn't this the great gamble I'm taking in this game? I would have sworn, sure, that I never wanted this to happen, that the fantasy ended simply at the risk of getting caught, and no more. If I was found out I could get in all sorts of trouble, after all this is my apartment, these are my neighbors. As his hand brushes against my ear and I feel myself drowning in his dizzying dark glare, all I can think to myself is, what will he do?

His hand rests just in front of my face, pinching the thin fabric of the mask. Move in any direction right now, and my ruse is as good as up. And yet with his frame blocking the stairwell the only way I had to go was back down. Back where the only place I would have left to stash the slippery plug swimming in my mouth was in my ass, before attempting to walk back up all over again. Something in his eyes told me he would still be waiting there; that the knowing grin quickly enveloping his face as I burrowed deeper into my hesitation would fix to his face. I take a step down, ready to test my chances. Another sound traps my exit. A door, the back door to the building which sits at the bottom of the staircase, opens. Closing shut. Some commotion, perhaps the sound of someone moving something heavy.

"Just a couple more! Then I'll start bringing them up!" Calls a voice from below. I can't move. The man in front of me begins to pull the mask from my face as tears fill my eyes, panic mixing with thrill in my heart. A hum swells from his chest as mine heaves in desperate breath.

"Ahh, I see now."

One string snaps. He holds the mask for a moment more before dropping it to my feet. I stare weakly into his eyes. I knew what my face looked like. I knew there was a glittering red heart where my lips ought to be, the plastic gem casting dancing color on his skin. My breathing grows suddenly very shallow as I can no longer seem to get all of the breath out of my lungs. I hear a wet droplet of drool collide on the step. He continues.

"What's that?"

I know he knows. I know he's decided, behind that fading smirk, to toy with me. I don't know what to do. I can still hear the other one moving around downstairs. Would they come up, too? Could I get this embarrassment over with and scurry back to my apartment, behind my door? Then I could relax. I could relax and think about how close this was and...

His eyes scan down my torso and I am immediately aware of another problem growing between my legs. My face turns so hot I think I'm going to pass out. But I just stare up at him as his eyes rise to meet mine again.

"Open your mouth."

I just start to shake my head. I don't know what else to do. My body will not move. Will not run. Doesn't... want to run. Every instinct of survival, as I watch this man take a step down towards me, so close that I can smell his cologne, is overwritten by lust.

"I didn't ask, whore."

His hand reaches out again, this time his arm bent, my eyes level to his chest. I stare up at him and he holds the gem. I can't know what he'll do if I... I don't know how far he'll go, and yet my jaw begins to part. Achingly slow, the pressure from his hand pulls the steel toy from me. A thin strand of saliva ties it to my bottom lip, drooping from my wet mouth. The heat in my face is so powerful I can feel tears begin to form. My heart has gone from a galloping beat to a grave stillness. Finally, I can speak.

"Can I... Can you,"

"Let you go?" He cuts me off. "No. Not that easily. After all, I do need to give this back to you." The plug, still dripping in saliva, rises in his hand. In response, I open my mouth, waiting for the toy to be replaced.

"No."

He doesn't need to say more. He knows that at this point. My game is clear and he will not let me get away so easily. Words catch and stumble as I put them to breath, my weak protests slinking in echoes down the stairwell.

"I can't... Here. It's, there's someone..."

"Turn around."

I stare back. No more words are coming. His eyes coolly pin me in my place, calm and commanding. He has taken my arm with his free hand, and I have nowhere to run. I feel a wetness arise between my legs, my cock leaking precum onto the concrete floor. I watch his lips part. Pearly white teeth. He's getting horny. He looks like he could take a bite out of me any second. He... wants me. Needs me. He is in control but he knows that he needs to push just the right buttons to get me where he deliciously wishes me to be. And... don't I want this? The fantasy of getting caught? Of being truly at the mercy of some striking man, to make me his? A hot, stinging sensation erupts in the far reaches of my psyche, a final plea from my instinct to flee, to fight. And yet, as I stare into the hungry brown eyes before me, that flash becomes... lost. Drowns in his stormy stare.

I turn, barely noticing until I am facing the opposite wall. It's plain, with a small window looking out into the back alleyway. I can't see much. I wonder if that other person is still downstairs. There's a grabbing sensation at my lower back as my captor takes a fistful of my sweater and yanks it up. I feel a lot more present as cool air greets my smooth ass. I hear a slow growl of approval from behind.

"You have a very nice ass, you little slut. No wonder you felt the need to show it off. Hold your shirt here."

I do as I'm told, my hands bringing the hem of my sweater into a tight ball on my clavicle, exposing nearly every inch of myself to both this stranger and anyone who might pass by, and look too closely at the window. My breath begins to quicken. His finger brushes low on my back, drifting downwards until he has taken a handful of my has. He pulls my cheek up and lets it drop. A firm smack ignites me again as he claps his hand back, gripping me tightly.

"And wrapped up in such pretty lace... I'm getting quite lucky today, aren't I?"

He is playing with me now. Smacking me a couple of times, spreading my cheeks. His hand slips between and rests at the cleft of my ass, before his fingers glide down over my hole, and back up again, rubbing me through my lingerie thong.

"I expect you to answer when I ask questions. I know you can use that pretty mouth of yours, so? Isn't today my lucky day?"

He's taking such pleasure in my complete humiliation that all I can feel is a compulsion to obey. My fear and arousal become a rollercoaster I am strapped to and yet again I push myself. I respond.

"Y-yes, you're very... lucky." I manage to stammer out.

"And why am I lucky?"

Someone passes by the window. Did they just glance towards me? Did they... see? Maybe they could come up and break this spell, maybe... and they're gone.

"Because you are getting to play with me..."

"That's right. Good girl. You like being called a girl, right? Even though I can see that bulge pulling at your pretty little thong?"

"Y-yes."

"I thought so."

The groping continues, faster than before. His hand is everywhere: on my cheeks, rubbing my hole, dropping lower and taking my junk into a handful, rising back up and snapping the string of my underwear. His finger curls under the thong and I feel the lace suddenly rise, exposing my hole as it is drawn to the side. I feel cool, slick metal at my entrance.

"Here you go, whore."

There is a hint of pain as he shoves, pushing the plug slowly into me. With his other hand, he reaches around to my stomach and pulls me backward, securing me as I feel my hole stretch to take the toy. Oh my god, what am I doing? How have I let it go this far? In the stairwell of my building, on a weeknight, just getting some chores out of the way, and now this man, a force of willpower, has his hands all over my nude body. He has my panties pulled to the side and is making me hold my sweater at a humiliating height. I feel the end of his palm rest on the cleft of my ass as his fingers push my metal plug into me. I wasn't supposed to get caught, why am I not more... scared? At this moment, this stranger's command of me is absolute. It doesn't matter what I think, if I'm scared or not; if I'm in danger or not. A little part of me knows, at this moment, that I will do whatever he tells me to do. I've never been so turned on, so carnally hot, in my life. This man is scrambling my brain, turning me into something... else. Finally, my hole accepts the toy, relaxing as it slides into place. He gives another squeeze of my ass before, his hands on my hips now, and spins me again. My jaw is dropped, mouth open spilling hot breath as my chest swells and expels my quickening breath. The saliva that had been pooling in my mouth is now drooling from my lips, dangling and breaking away onto the floor. I can do nothing but stare up at him with wide eyes.

Something inside of me seems to break away and slip into the gravity of his stare. I cannot look anywhere but into the hooded, hungry eyes before me. Twin whirlpools, with something ferocious behind them. A fire. He is hot too. I don't need to glance at his crotch to know that he is hard. I can feel it, in his stare. I know what comes next. I know that he is going to want me to pleasure him. And I know that I will. In any and every way that he wants. His control of me courses like lava through my veins. The world seems to melt away around us as he releases my arm. Even so, I am no more capable of escape than before.

Wordlessly, holding my gaze, he unclasps his belt, the clink of the metal the only sound I can hear over my breathing. I hear the thin leather band slide through each belt loop, coming free in his hands. He loops it around itself, passing through the clasp. His arms come up and he drops the loop around my head. His hand grasps the tail of the belt and pulls. Rough leather scratches the back of my neck, and eventually, it is secured tightly around it. He continues to pull. The belt tightens around my neck. I struggle to pull in breaths, and my head gets light. I'm going to pass out unless I follow the direction of his effort. Unless I go down.

My knees meet the cold concrete floor as this man pulls me by my neck, like an animal, down onto them. I am finally able to break from contact with his eyes, after what feels like an eternity of staring. In those few minutes, the chemistry of my brain was rewired, and I will never be the same. I can barely even hear my heart as it races. My eyes, drifting down his body, land steadily on the place where he is stretching his jeans. It's large and clearly hard. I can nearly see him throb under the rough fabric.

"There you go. That's better, isn't it?"

I can only nod.

"Here is what is going to happen next." He commands, as he pulls on the belt again, bringing my face in to press against his crotch, "You are going to undo the buttons on my pants, you are going to pull them down, pull my underwear down, and you are going to put my cock into that slutty little mouth of yours. You're going to look up at me with those big eyes, and you are going to suck me until I cum right down your throat. The faster you work, the less likely you are to be caught."

How could I say no now? Without his eyes to pierce me, my own glaze over in lust. I reach up above my head, to where a single button contains him. It comes undone with a pop. A zipper follows, and the back of my hands brush against his hips as I slip them into his waistband. The pressure on my neck lightens, allowing me to pull my face back and reveal his cock.

I've never sucked a cock before. I've thought about it a lot, I've seen other people do it, and I've even had a handful of frustrated girls try to suck mine, us both confused as to why it would not stay hard. Is this the reaction I am supposed to have when faced with a pretty girl about to put me in her mouth? Heavy throbbing, a bead of precum at the end, twitching in anticipation? Perhaps it makes more sense for me to be in this position. My own dick seems to agree with that fact, having not lost an ounce of strength during this entire debacle. He has lost a fraction of his vitality, as he droops just a hair away from full mast. On instinct, I want to correct that. I stretch my tongue from my mouth and reach the pointed tip of it to the base of his shaft. I trace a thin line from there up the cock, right to the top. My tongue hollows into a spoon shape and I rest the mass of his glans on it, precum leaking onto it. Slowly, I move forward, widening my mouth to secure my lips around him. I feel him shudder as I connect them down and begin to move my head. There, in the stairwell, I hold a stranger's hardening cock in my mouth, my filled ass exposed to the world behind me, waiting for him to fill me with his cum.

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Stay tuned for part two ;).