She found her knees and wrapped her arms around my neck, surrendering to my kisses and touches. Her naked body was cradled against my still-clothed one, which gave me a sense of power. I flexed my arm muscles as I thrust a second finger into her, earning another small cry.
Removing my fingers, I abruptly brought them up to her mouth. She opened her swollen lips and sucked them, tasting herself. Her tongue snaking out and around them caused a tidal wave within me.
I pulled the desk chair over with my foot, seated her in it, and twirled it around so she faced me as I stood in the pale light from the decorated palm trees outside the window. Slowly I started popping the snaps on my own uniform, one at a time. My muscular body emerged inch by inch until I stood before her in boxer briefs and a sports bra. Her eyes skimmed my six-pack, then stopped and fixated on the telltale bulge beneath my briefs.
Instead of addressing her curiosity, I raised my arms, enjoying the cut of my biceps. I loved the appreciation I saw in her eyes. Reaching up and over, I pulled off my bra and tossed it aside, knowing my tiny nipples were tight as raisins. I flexed my chest, glad I’m so flat.
She reached for the waistband of my briefs, but I stopped her. Instead, I swung her chair around and stepped between her and the desk. I propped her legs on the desktop on either side of me and spread them wide. Then I squatted.
Her blond bush was inches from my nose, and I smelled perfume. I love when women do that! My nose inhaled as I nuzzled first her curls, then her swollen lips. The tip of my tongue traced the length of her slit, teasing rather than invading. I stopped just above her clit.
“Tell me what you want, Miss Kitty,” I commanded, blowing hot breath down on her bottom.
She squirmed in her chair, moaning. Through the open window I heard the elephants trumpeting as the trainer put them through their paces for our elegant guests, which reminded me that the clock was ticking. I blew hot air against her pussy lips, enjoying the clean, fresh scent of her moisture.
“I want you to tickle me.” She surprised me again. Playful.
Knowing just what I wanted, I ducked under her leg and disappeared into the bevy of offices, and returned with a large peacock feather in one hand and a zoo scarf in the other. I held out the feather for her to appreciate, then quickly stepped behind her and blindfolded her. I reached over her shoulder and drew the feather softly up her flat belly and along the curves of her breasts. She shivered. I traced her blond curls and tickled the inside of her exposed thighs. I watched the gooseflesh rise on her skin. Swinging the chair around again, I helped her to her feet, letting her stand still, feeling her naked vulnerability. The feather brushed her knees.
“Spread them.”
She shifted the weight on her bare feet until her legs parted. So did her lips as her breath escaped raggedly. Her hands seemed unsure of themselves, so I took them both in one of mine behind her back, giving her an anchor and causing her breasts to swell proudly as I tickled them with the peacock feather. Her nipples lengthened and hardened in the cool night air. A moan escaped her. I rewarded her with a kiss.
I tickled her ribs and slender waist, returning again to the nipples for a flick now and again. The velvety tip of the feather dipped between her breasts, up her long, arched neck, and down across her shoulder blades. I kissed the back of her neck as she leaned into my touches, eager to experience more.
Bending her forward over my left arm, I moved the feather teasingly, slowly along her legs until she quivered. I used the feather to tenderly caress the backs of her knees, as well as her ankles. The higher I tickled, the more she responded, so I spent a long moment tickling her bottom, enjoying the sight of her squirming.
I pushed her gently but firmly down and forward until she was bent across the calendar blotter on the desktop, her head pillowed on her arms, and stood directly behind her. Dropping the feather, I put one hand on either of her hips. She moaned, “Yes.”
I slapped her bottom once, then twice, two loud cracks that made her jump and could easily be heard through the open window. The blush of heat rose from her pale flesh into my hand and down to my belly. My hand traced the perfect globes of her ass, teasing the sensitive skin. I drew my fingers up against her slit, found and released the moisture held at bay there. I leaned forward and rubbed the crotch of my briefs up against her; the rough cotton kissed her soft wetness.
“More,” she groaned, swaying her bottom against my crotch.
My hand rose and fell for a sweet dozen strokes. I alternated cheeks for the first six, then slapped both together in the final six. Twice I paused long enough to trace my rough fingertips over her reddened skin, which gleamed in what light broke through the window. Her eager moans reinforced my slaps, and after the last one, I thrust two fingers deep inside her, drawing a lower and more intense one. “Now,” she commanded.
I reached into my briefs, freeing my cock through the front panel. I hadn’t anticipated anyone seeing it today; indeed, only a whim had caused me to wear it at all. Usually it’s reserved for special dates, but today for some reason I’d felt formal. It’s bright blue, but from her vantage I doubt Miss Kitty appreciated that. What she did appreciate was its length and depth, which I know how to use expertly. I slipped deep into her, taking my time and doing the in-and-out dance of easy penetration. The orchestra was playing again, and I let them set the rhythm.
Once firmly ensconced, I raised her to stand by grabbing her breasts and pulling. Soon her head was thrown back onto my shoulder as I turned us both, then leaned back, perching my butt on the desk for support. My fingers milked her breasts softly, rolling her full flesh through my rough fingers, pulling at her nipples until they stretched as tight as my own, which were pressed firmly into her back. Her belly bowed outward as her hips curved back to accommodate my legs between hers.
She was tiny enough for me to lift, and I did so until her weight was balanced on my muscular thighs. I rocked her forward and back on my cock, enjoying the moans escaping her pale throat, stretched tight. My arms supported her, and she relaxed totally into my control. Soon I set a quickening pace to match her breaths. Outside, the loudspeaker announced cocktails for sale by vendors scattered over the grounds. Gourmet delicacies were also available.
Her strong thighs clamped around mine. Both of her nipples became so tender I took to palming them, then massaging her breasts. My hand slipped down to her hip, then around to her clit. My forefinger found it and began a circular motion that complemented the rhythm of my hips. Her hips rocked back and forth on my lap.
Miss Kitty tossed her head back against my shoulder, and I leaned down to lick her neck. As the soft tip of my tongue touched her skin, she spasmed and cried out, grabbing my hips with her hands. The strength of her orgasm racked her until she finished. I slowed and finally stilled, unwilling to interrupt her pleasure. I lowered my legs until her feet touched the ground. She rose off my cock, turned around, and gave me her body to cradle. I held her closely.
Soon she revived and lifted her face to be kissed. My lips covered hers, then explored her eyelids and cheeks. She lowered her head and fastened her lips around one of my nipples. Her tongue flicked me until I gasped, and then she bit me.
I pulled her hair sharply, snapping her head back. She shook her hair free of my fingers and laughed at me. Then her lips pursed as she closed in on my nipple again, sucking it in and nipping at it gently. This time I allowed it.
One of her elegant hands caressed my hip through the fabric of my briefs, finally finding and circling my cock. She began to stroke it with one hand while the other reached inside the fly and dipped low enough to find my opening. I felt her finger invade my space, stopping just at the door as I tensed. She respected my needs and dipped only so far within, then set up her own shallow pumping.
Her lips devoured mine as she thrust her tongue into my mouth and teased mine. She tasted of wine and rose petals. I felt myself melting into her embrace.
I was still leaning against the desk, so she took advantag
e of being between my legs and pushed them farther apart. Quickly she knelt in front of me and swallowed my cock. I gulped as I watched her mouth surround it, wishing I could feel her lips. Her fingers reached once more into my briefs, one finger reinserting itself while her thumb circled and stroked my clit. I watched her lipsticked mouth moving up and down on my blue cock and pretended.
My swollen clit strained against her talented thumb as she circled and circled patiently. Not far from the office window, people walked by and conversed, their voices dangerously close. My breath came quickly, making my chest rise and fall. The faster her head bobbed up and down on my cock, the faster her thumb strummed my clit. One knuckle swizzled the lips of my cunt, urging me on. I took her head in my hands, running my fingers through that luscious hair, and felt her motion. My hips flexed to help with the thrusting. A searing heat began to spread from the pit of my belly outward.
“Gawd!” I bawled as my orgasm shook me. One wave after another rocked me as her motion stayed the same. She drew more out of me than I’m used to, and it took me a moment to recover. By that time she was tucking my cock back into my briefs, leaning forward to plant a kiss on my fly. She rose into my arms and hugged me. I swept her up and off her feet, kissing her deeply. From outside I heard the hired announcer begin the scheduled festivities. It was already ten o’clock.
I kissed Miss Kitty on the lips hurriedly, then bolted into the bathroom. I washed myself quickly, making sure to remove any trace of lipstick from my face and neck.
“I’ve got to go, honey,” I growled at my new lover as she stood in the doorway watching me. She leisurely pulled the blue jumpsuit back on, snapping it up until only the line of her cleavage showed. She picked up the bundle of her ruined pink silk dress and folded it to carry.
“What’s your hurry?” She leaned against the bathroom door frame as she deftly wound her long hair back into its ponytail. I scrambled past her and fumbled with my sports bra, getting it over my head and tugging it into place. Stepping quickly to the closet door in the corner, I opened it and removed my tuxedo.
“What?” Miss Kitty stared as I thrust my feet one at a time into the trousers, quickly fastened the pearl buttons of the white pleated shirt, and snapped my purple cummerbund into place. I sat in the same chair in which I had her spread before me just moments earlier and yanked on black silk socks before shoving my feet into a pair of black loafers. I rose and donned the black tuxedo jacket, then pulled a purple bow tie from its pocket and snapped it easily in place.
“Come with me,” I urged. I swept her before me as I hurried to the bandstand. Leaving her in the crowd, I advanced through the people and climbed the stairs. When I glanced back, I saw her staring dumbfounded as the announcer introduced me.
“And now, here is our Chief Zoologist, Dr. Rose ‘Bud’ Sayers.” He stood back and led the applause as I took my place center stage. I looked down into Miss Kitty’s beautiful upturned face.
“I’d like to thank you for coming,” I said, looking straight at her. “It’s generous contributions like yours that keep our zoo running effectively.”
She winked at me.
Stolen Moments
Radclyffe
I was thirty-five minutes early. Thirty-five minutes to sit on the side of the bed—fully clothed, my hands fisted on my thighs—watching the door. There were at least a million reasons why she wouldn’t come. Something as simple as a last-minute change in the duty roster could leave me waiting here for hours.
My civilian clothes felt wrong against my skin. It’s not as if I never wore them, but I never felt entirely me unless I was in uniform. Even the part of me that everyone said didn’t belong in uniform—part of the very heart of me—felt right at home in dress blues or khakis. And the other piece of my heart wore the uniform too, except for those few hours every other week or so when we took the chance that if we were both away at the same time, no one would notice. Then, we would shed the symbols of our pride and our duty in order to express our love. Even that concession was not enough to protect us, but it was a risk we were willing to take.
The first time I ever saw her was on the parade ground, and she was all spit-and-polish shiny—shoulders back, head high, short, thick, sun-bleached hair barely contained by her cap. One look and I knew. I knew that she, with her cocky grin and her intense dark eyes, was part of my future. I didn’t know when, and I didn’t know how. I just knew it would be. After that, I waited. She saw me watching her, and I saw her watching me back. Quick glances across the mess hall; the spark of recognition that lit her face when I walked into a room; the smile that lingered just a few seconds longer than it should have when we passed in the hall. Waiting and watching, agony and ecstasy.
When I couldn’t manage to lose myself in work, she was all I thought about. I thought about the way she moved, all easy grace and self-assurance; I thought about the way she laughed, an amazingly free and joyous sound; I thought about the way she turned and stood very still, her eyes on mine for the barest of seconds that seemed like a lifetime. I thought about the way her skin would feel beneath my fingertips, against my mouth, on my tongue. I thought about how she’d smell—fresh and clean like early morning rain and then, after we made love, thick and warm and rich, like a summer night at sundown. I thought about her. I thought about her. Until there was no difference between my dreams and my days.
“You have the saddest look in your eyes,” she said one afternoon as we stood slightly apart from the others, waiting for a briefing. “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” I said before I could take back the word.
“And that makes you sad?”
Her tone was so gentle I wanted to weep. Instead, I smiled and shook my head. “No. That makes me happy.”
“Then what is that I just saw in your eyes?”
We only had a minute. A minute before the connection that felt so right would be destroyed. I felt the pressure of something precious slipping away, and I spoke the truth. “Wishing. That was me wishing for you.”
Her dark brown eyes grew even darker, but I could not read beyond their shadows. Her lips parted, and a soft sigh danced between us. “You shouldn’t.”
“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry.”
She never moved, but I remember to this day the sweet sensation of her fingertips gliding over my cheek. “I want you to tell me what you wish for.”
“Don’t you know?”
Her eyes danced then, alive with joy. “I do. But I want to hear you tell me.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Soon turned out to be weeks later. Weeks filled with glances that
now, looking back, I know would have given us away had anyone chanced to notice. Hunger stalked the air between us. I went to bed thirsting for her touch and twisted through the long hot hours of the night, soaking my sheets with the sweat of unrequited lust and desperate, failed attempts at relief. The hollows beneath her eyes matched the aching void within my chest until finally, we did the only thing we could.
“Friday night,” she murmured as she passed me a stack of requisition forms. When she transferred the files, she pressed a metal object into my hand. “The Walton. Ten o’clock.”
“Are you sure?” My stomach was suddenly queasy as I pocketed the key. What if…what if I turned out to be a disappointment after she risked everything?
“I’m dying for you.”
The whispered words nearly brought me to my knees. “Yes. Yes. I’ll be there.”
Waiting. I remember waiting that night, too. I walked around the block a half dozen times before I mustered the courage to go inside. The hotel lobby seemed to stretch for a hundred miles. I was the only person there except for the desk clerk, whose eyes followed me knowingly on my trek to the elevator. Once in the room, I didn’t know what to do. I was too nervous to sit, too unsteady to pace. The sound of a key in the lock brought my heart to a standstill.
A
nd then she was inside with me, and there were no more questions. She smiled and so did I. I met her halfway and put my hands to her face as she brought hers to my shoulders. I kissed her and she kissed me back. And then we stood for a long time, arms around each other, holding so tightly that we didn’t even sway. I listened to her breathe, felt the timbre of her heartbeat against my chest, smelled her shampoo—tried to memorize every sensation that was her. Knowing I would need those memories to last, to live on, perhaps forever.
“You’re here,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
*
As I did all the nights I lay awake aching for her touch, I closed my eyes and watched her face grow fierce with pleasure. I took a breath and smelled her hair. I brushed my thumb over my fingertips and felt the silky smoothness of her skin. Immersed in her, I waited.
The scratch of metal on metal drew me back and I looked around the strange but familiar room. I held my breath, as I always did, until the heavy wooden door swung open and she was inside with me, safe.
“You’re here,” she said softly, as she always does.
“Yes.”
Tonight, she unbuttoned her blouse as she crossed the room. By the time she stood in front of me, she was naked from the waist up. She curved her fingers behind my head and led me to her, pressing my face against her abdomen. I licked her skin as I circled her hips with my arms. She settled both hands in my hair and stroked my neck and shoulders as I caressed her with my mouth.
Finally, I tilted my head back and swept my gaze up her body. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, counterpoint to the pulse that beat beneath the arched column of her neck. The pink nipples were already swollen and hard with arousal. Her pupils were solid black disks beneath heavy lids.
Stolen Moments Page 27