I walk past Peter the doorman with a confidence that hides the racing in my chest. Confidence, sometimes delusional confidence, is what this city runs on, and here again, it works.
At least so far.
I step quickly into the elevator and punch the door close button, mentally apologizing to Peter for evading him. I distract myself from my possibly foolish decision by breathing into my mask, checking how much my breath smells like wine.
Some. Not enough to be gross.
The elevator door dings open at the 14th floor, and I automatically step out, my feet leading me to a boring beige door that promises so much pleasure.
My knuckles hit the door hard - loud, obnoxious, to make sure I can't change my mind.
A few seconds go by, I consider leaving when the door swings open.
"Nyra?"
Matt. He's maskless with a faint almost invisible five o'clock shadow, holding a dark colored drink in his hand. With his tie loosened, formal shirt sleeves rolled up, he would look absolutely delicious except for his frown. And that drink could mean company. Fuck.
"Hi."
"What are you doing here?"
How do I tell a guy that I'm here at his doorstep, tipsy and thirsty, after people flirted with me at a bar and all I could think of was... him? I decide to go with logistics.
"I was out with friends and going back home and the local changed to express, so..."
"So you wanted to see if I'd be up for a booty call?" He laughs, leaning against the door frame, still not letting me in.
His dated phrase makes me smile, softens my nerves.
"It wasn't the most thought out plan, but that approach worked pretty well last time."
He steps into the hallway and I'm flooded with disappointment when he pulls the door shut behind him.
As I try escape with words that salvage my pride, he moves towards me, standing so close I can smell him. The bourbon, his cologne, my horniness, and the door shut on anticipated sex are a heady and confusing combination, and just when I think he can't torture me anymore, he gently touches my earlobe.
"Don't insult me, Nyra. I was very thoughtful with you," he whispers into my ear.
He delicately takes the mask off my face before pushing it into my front pant pocket, letting his fingers linger, grazing my hip bone through the thin pocket lining. How does he make the smallest gesture erotic?
"Are we using the same rules, pet?" he asks.
I smile when I hear the endearment, more certain my night will not involve a vibrator.
"Yes."
"Yes what, Nyra?"he asks, his voice sharper.
My heart speeds up again. Fuck yes.
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl. No add ons, pet?"
"No sir."
"Exhibitionism okay?"
A very strange question, considering the man had placed me in his window like a Christmas tree the last time.
"What do you mean exactly, sir?"
When I look up, I catch his pale blue eyes watch me intently.
"Can other people see you?"
My nipples harden at the memory of cool glass, at the thrill of the possibly being watched then, and maybe now.
"Yes sir, I think so. But no documentation, no photos or videos of me."
"Of course, pet," he whispers, with a smile.
He pulls me close and kisses me with a possessiveness that drowns. My body automatically arches to follow his shape, to take what he gave me only at the end. As his hands caress my ass, arousal drips into my panties and before I can really savor him, he breaks it off.
"You need to know I have work friends in there. And a work meeting in..." He looks at his watch. "... about 70 minutes, so we won't have much time."
"What?" Anger, embarrassment, and arousal flash through me.
"You came here unannounced," he says calmly, firmly.
Fair enough, the weights of the emotions change, my anger softening.
"You can go home. Or we can set some more rules, see if this could still be fun."
Fuck. I'd never had sex in front of anyone before. I feel torn, and he's standing so close I can feel his arm hair against my skin.
I want more.
"What do they know about me?" My voice is soft, hinting at my conflict.
"Nothing yet, pet," he whispers. "If you want to stay, what would make you comfortable, Nyra?"
His question reminds me of all the mutual pleasure we had, the rules that took us from a grimy subway platform to his 14th floor apartment window. I'd never gone home with a stranger before either.
My pussy aches, feeling ready to be fucked, and so I say, "No name calling. And they can look, but can't touch me. Not this time."
"This time? I like that," he murmurs, as he cups my ass. "And remember, we have the traffic system. Would you be comfortable with them watching everything we did last time?"
His eyes gleam as he lists things out, and with each item, his hand slides closer to my pussy. I moan, my body wanting to submit before we've figured it out.
"No cleaning," I say, needing to move away from the domestic, concerned he'll get annoyed at the restrictions. And I don't want them to know my name. But yes to everything else... sir."
When I look up, I see his lust, his desire and when he sees me seeing, he smiles.
"Not even their jizz?"
"No, sir."
"Okay, now close your eyes, Nyra."
I hear movement, his hands touch my face and soft narrow cloth wraps around my eyes, turning everything dark.
_ _ _
I almost curse as my foot trips over the carpet, letting me know I'm moving from hard floor to softness. The blindfold, which I assume is Matt's tie, based on the way its length caresses my back is doing it's job well. Too well.
The low buzz of the tv turned off as soon as I had entered the apartment, and now I wait in the silence for my orders, taking in the pitch dark in front of me, the smell of baked savoriness, the soft occasional creak of furniture on the floor.
A few phones buzz to life with notifications.
"Just letting them know the rules, pet. Drop your coat to your right and take 2 more."
His tone is firm but subtly softer than last time, maybe to avoid spooking me. Even with my eyes closed, I feel gazes on me. I imagine Matt's eyes, pale and rimmed with sparse blonde lashes savoring me with his buddies and my breath gets more ragged.
"Strip for us, pet."
I begin with my shirt, and just as I open my mouth to ask a question, a whistle drowns me out. Goosebumps cover my skin as someone else joins in, and wetness drips into my panties involuntarily. I wait, holding my shirt in my hand, grateful that they can't see all the ways my body is responding to them.
Matt's voice, filled with amusement and maybe even pride, cuts in.
"Calm down.. calm down... you looked like you were going to say something, pet."
"Do you want me to fold my clothes again, sir?"
"What do you think, guys?"
I hear a couple of murmurs.
"Yes let's do it, pet."
And for the second time this week, I kneel in Matt's apartment except this time the soft pile of the carpet meets my knees instead of the cool stone floor.
With each item of clothing I take off, I hear at least one whistle, and my body gushes more. Finally, just as I'm about to take my damp panties off, Matt stops me.
"Spin for us, pet."
When I rotate, I feel the soft ends of his tie lift before caressing my bare skin. Blindfolded, every sense feels magnified - the sound of the his voice, the melding of colognes, the softness beneath my feet, the wet between my legs.
"Beautiful, now turn around and get on your knees, pet."
I drop to my knees gingerly and turn, knowing that I must be facing away from the audience.
I smell Matt's cologne first before his cold fingertips press against my scalp as he gently pushes my head down and maneuvers my ass up, mimicking what I'd voluntarily initiated myself during our first time. A beautiful display of my ass for everyone to see.
"This is more tame, pet," he says, as his fingers run over my ass cheeks. "Do you remember what color they are?"
Blood rushes to my face for multiple reasons as I say, muffled into the carpet, "Light grey, sir."
Light fucking grey fucking cotton panties with lace. Not the worst, but close.
"Not as exciting as before. Tell my friends what you wore last time," he says, as his hands caress my cheeks with more intensity.
"I wore red panties, sir."
A soft slap stings my left cheek.
"What else?"
"With crotchless pantyhose, sir."
A deep velvety voice steps in, "Bet you couldn't see how soaked she was in the red though."
Chuckles fill the room and Matt's fingers slip into the gusset of my panties, just in time to feel more dribble out of me.
"You like this, pet," he says as he pulls his fingers out. Fingers thrust into my mouth and I lick the sweet off him. He pulls out, leaving my lips bare and his muffled footsteps let me know he's walking away. The smell of the carpet, detergent with a bit of dust makes my nose tickle.
The creak of wooden floors turn to soft treads and that's how I know he's back.
"I'll be cutting these off, pet."
I tilt my hips towards him, wanting him to take them off me. The grey I will happily trash.
Cold metal draws a line up my left ass cheek as he saws the scissors through my panties. He mirrors the same motion on my right, cold metal on skin, and as the scissors slice through the last of the lace, they fall to the ground.
"Beautiful, pet - just look at her," he croons, rubbing his hands over my ass. His fingers knead my muscles before exploring my labia, opening them up.
"Here's your reward for coming in to play."
With my eyes closed and with an audience, I feel particularly vulnerable, unsure of what he has planned, expecting to be spanked, which I deserve. Which maybe I was even asking for, by showing up unannounced.
Matt grabs my knees and he slowly widens them, kissing my thigh from knee upward. I feel wetness dripping out of me, letting everyone know how I feel.
"Making such a mess, pet," he says, rubbing his hands against my ass cheeks, leaving strands of wetness on me. The last time he caressed my ass this way, I got my first spanking from him.
I arch my back, waiting, when his face presses against my asscheeks as his tongue slides from clit into my pussy.
Fuck me.
He's eating me out in front of his people and that turns me on so much.
