15.8.07

The last time

I see you...

As soon as I approach the top of the escalator; you're leaning slightly against the wall and hidden by the late edition financial pages. I grin, knowing that you of all people have little need of the information you spend your workday creating, that it's merely a way to pass the time waiting for me, a mere ruse to ensure nobody will look beyond the impeccably cut suit, the bespoke shirt or the expensively trendy spectacles and discover your true plans for the evening.

You can't help but glance up as I intrude on your personal space to greet you with a kiss - outwardly polite, of course - the public throng around us being far too busy to notice my tongue quickly snaking into your mouth before I pull away, smiling with my eyes as well as the lips that now taste of you.

London is buzzing with indigenous office drones dancing paths around the slow moving tourists in order to reach their usual watering hole or train station as quickly as they can, a thousand and ten internal sat-navs constantly recalculating for each fresh interruption to the pre-planned route. We float between them all, encased as we are in the private bubble that protects our acute awareness of the other; lost in that most base, subconscious acknowledgment of the pheromones that leave us powerless to resist one another once sharing airspace.

Reaching the somewhat crowded bar you direct me into a corner table and go to get drinks. I hear you order a pint even though I know you prefer wine, a gesture that doesn't go unnoticed as I smile to myself at your recall of what the taste of beer on a man does to my senses. We drink for a while, accidentally on purpose touching arms and knees as we pull closer toward each other like magnets, talking and catching up on lives in general, apologetically replying to calls and texts on mobiles that we can't quite switch off at this point - not just for personal, lie-confirming reasons - but also because every public minute that passes in each others company adds to the already electric anticipation of the moment we'll finally be alone, together, unable to let anything get in the way of our desperation for each others nakedness. It's like a competition...

I win gold by virtue of you very suddenly draining your glass and mentioning that the hotel you've chosen is close by then turning your mobile off, all the while not lifting your gaze from my cleavage. Smiling yet again, I push my unfinished drink to one side and collect up my bag in a move that says my victory dance is not something for public consumption but a consolation prize that will make it well worth your conceding this battle...

Walking close together we continue to chat and laugh, stopping to kiss every now and then when lust overwhelms us. You divert into an off licence and I wait outside taking deep breaths to collect my senses as I watch you asking a man that doesn't speak any english other then '20 Benson' for good champagne, giggle as you search the offerings and grimace at the best bottle they have and lose myself in laughter as you quickly hand over a far larger note than needed and rush out without waiting for change.

I feel your thoughts, know you're wishing you'd planned it better, that the DP was sitting on ice waiting for us. I love watching you kick yourself in the mind, not because you're kicking yourself but because these details bother you enough to do so and tell me plainly, without words, just how much you wanted to make this something even more special. Every kick you give yourself is a touch to my deepest parts but I can't tell you this, not yet...

Having purchased a bottle of something alcoholic that at least has some bubbles then dealt with the hotel receptionist that appears to have no knowledge of drinking vessels outside of toothbrush tumblers, we eventually stop sniggering like teenagers on their first taste of cider and reach the room. I can't help but fondle as you fumble with inserting the key, my hands roaming over your thighs as you bend to push the plastic card into the correct place.

Of course, once inside you pay me back threefold for the intrusion on your concentration; pushing me bodily against the wall, throwing the keycard to the floor and plunging your wrist deep between my legs in a way that makes my knees buckle and my body sink down, silently begging for more of you in me, on me, over me, even as your watch scratches the stinging trace of ownership through my underwear and onto my skin that makes me wince.

You're having none of it, realising and relishing in the fact that you have my complete attention right now. You show off, working the position of power you find yourself in, strictly ordering me to wait exactly where I am while you go to the bathroom with the bottle of luke-warm fizz.

I have no choice but to remain against the wall but there's no rule that says I can't strip off my top layer and... oh, being half naked changes things and I just can't help it, standing in my lacy, pink bra and panties makes me feel assertive and brave and able to run the show as I move across the room, arranging bedclothes and pillows to their best advantage, so that...

When you return you find me stretched out to my full 5'2" across the rather strangely patterned duvet cover. With all outer clothing strewn across the floor I'm naked but for pink lace panties cut high at each side and a matching balconette bra that fights to contain my breasts whilst allowing you a peek at the top half of my aureole. My nipples are already rock hard, both they and their surroundings aroused so much that a braille reader would, even through the lacy pattern attempting modesty, immediately translate them as 'tongue here, NOW!'

I feel your weight on one side of the the bed and begin to smile but quickly gasp as the cool liquid hits my upper body. Forcing my eyes to stay closed I sink into and relish the contrasting feel of cold champagne and hot mouth, the sound of your appreciative moans as you taste the mixture of alcohol and skin, the scent of your arousal meeting my own. My hands go to the back of your head, pushing more of my tit into your mouth, ensuring the contact of your lips doesn't leave my nipple until the moment I can't take this sweet torment a moment longer.

Placing both hands on your beautiful face I draw your head upward to meet my lips and you immediately take the opportunity to snake your hands around my back, stroking, scratching and massaging as you undo the hooks and eyes attached to the cotton lace that holds my breasts constrained; pushing the pink, beribboned straps down, down over my shoulders till they fall to rest somewhere slightly above my elbows as my mouth is plundered by your tongue.

Oh, how nakedness is over-rated! This, my lover, is the perfect point of sensuality, giving you access and me restraint. Your mouth envelops so much of my rigid nipple that the breast behind it feels, for the first time in my life, quite small and I ache for you to take all of it between your lips. You don't, shifting across to pay the same homage to the opposite breast instead but I've stopped thinking of what I want you to do and begun to pray that you just don't stop what you're doing.

Ah, but you do stop - albeit just long enough to tell me that you want me naked, right now. You forcibly rip the prettiness of my panties off as I attempt to sexily divest my elbows of the matching pink lace and before anything even hits the floor you have your finger inside me and oh my God I'm pushing down on it, down, hard and forceful enough for you to turn your wrist against the pressure.

I gasp as you do so and see you smile as you realise you've found my sweetest of sweet spots. The medics and scientists can argue all they want but right now you and I both know that the G-spot exists. I'm so wet it's easy for a second finger to join the first and you watch my face as you slightly crook the tips and find a rythym that matches my hips... kissing slowly down my belly as you do so and then, finally, causing me to moan loud and long as you place the wet flatness of your tongue on my clit and move your head side to side.

I can feel the build up in me, my thighs ache to clamp around you, my hips desperately attempt to raise higher, push more of me into you, onto you. My heels press hard into the bed and you don't miss a beat, sucking my clit into your mouth and tonguing circles around it while your fingers continue the insistent rythym and that's it... my breath is held and the world has gone away till I cry out and as the sound leaves me and the breath leaves my lungs so the wave is released, my orgasm washes over me and I'm floating on a cloud of pure white relief and utter ecstasy as your fingers feel every contraction and your tongue laps up the evidence of my lust.

Before my breathing returns to normal I feel you move and smile lazily thinking you're going to kiss me back down to earth. You though, have other plans, your hands lift my knees up and apart, exposing me to your gaze before you place the head of your cock at the entrance of my still throbbing pussy. My eyes open and you hold the contact as you adjust your hips to push into me so slowly, achingly slowly, my muscles pulling you in and both of us moaning at the perfect feeling as your full length is enveloped in warm wetness for the first time. Passion overtakes you then and you call out to god as your thrusts fill me up time and time again, my breasts moving in time with the pounding that's taking both of us even higher. You release my knees and fall forward over me, still fucking hard but now feeling my breasts move against your chest, hard nipples tracing crazy lines in your hair, and my tongue snaking out to lick your lips. I can feel my heat rising again and draw my legs tight around you to feel your pubic bone rubbing my clit as your cock fills my pussy. Now it is me crying out to god, calling your name, imploring you to fuck me harder, faster, deeper, begging for more and more of your cock. I feel the change in your pace that I know signals your loss of control and that's all I need to make me come again, my orgasm more intense this time, my pussy twitching all along your length and tipping you over the edge into your own world of relief and ecstacy.

It had to be our last time but it will never be forgotten.

x

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

He's pretty good, shouldn't have forgotten the champagne though :-)

Nice pace and again very erotic, I shouldn't really read this at work....

EN