The water shuts off and I can feel myself waiting; waiting for you to come into the room. I sip my coffee and watch the door.
You walk in, one towel wrapped round your body, another for your hair. You see me on the bed and flash me a daring little smile. You're not surprised to see me here, although you never ask how I get in. I take another slug of coffee and just watch you dry your hair and brush it back.
Watching you fills me with an urge to touch you. Maybe it's the way you move your hair, the way you watch yourself in the mirror while you brush. I trace the contours of your body with my eye. The towel hides a lot, but my imagination fills in the gaps.
I rise smoothly and walk up to you. You pause, holding the brush in your hair. I walk up close, so I'm just a few inches from you. Your eyes are wide and beautiful. Your mouth is slightly open as if you were about to say something but it didn't quite come out. I reach up and gently take hold of the brush. You don't resist as I slide it out of your hand.
Part of me worries that I stink of the nightclub, of smoke and alcohol. I know I should take a shower. But you're right here in front of me. Your breathing is almost timid like you're scared to move. Part of me worries that if I go to shower you might get dressed before I can come back. Worse, you might rush off to work and escape me completely.
I drop the hairbrush on the floor. We don't break eye contact so much as a glance to see where it falls. I lick my lips and I can feel my own breath. I tilt my head toward the wall.
"Turn around."
You turn, keeping your eyes on me as long as you can, until you're facing the wall. I gently put my hand on the small of your back and push you. You resist a little at first, uncertain of what I'm trying to do. Then you take a step. I keep the pressure on with my hand and guide you forward the few more steps it takes to get you up against the door. I hear you swallow and feel the tension in your body.
I stand close behind you and I can smell the shampoo on your hair and the fresh scent of your clean skin. I take a fist full of the towel at the back and pull at it gently. You try to step back as I pull, but I hold you still with my other hand. The towel comes undone and I drop it to the floor.
You stand still, your breasts just brushing the gloss wood of the door, your arms at your sides, your legs just slightly apart. You shiver just a little and I wonder if it's the excitement or just the cool air on your damp body.
I place my hand at the small of your back and slide it slowly up you -- up over the smooth, soft skin of your back, my palm curving round your shoulder blade as my fingers touch your hair. I move my hand up to the nape of your neck. My fingers curl round one side, my thumb the other. I gently massage the sides of your neck, enjoying the way your hair cascades off the back of my hand.
I step up close and I can feel the fly of my jeans brush up against your ass. I keep stroking your neck and you murmur quietly to yourself, little pleasure noises in your throat. You rock your head to one side to let my fingers slide up to your ear, my palm cupping the back of your head.
I step forward, my body pressing you up to the wood. You gasp and flinch; I guess the wood much be a cold shock on your hot stomach. I don't give an inch, I keep you pressed up firmly; the door will be warm soon enough. I feel the way your ass pushes against me and you try to keep yourself from the cold wood. It presses my jeans up against my panties; my panties up against my pussy.
I realize how hot I've become. My hands tremble slightly and I find I want to just rub up against your ass. I want to press you up against the door until you feel like you're fucking the woodwork.
My tits are squashed up against your back and I can hold you here without need of my hands now. I put one hand on each of your shoulders and I run my fingertips down your arms. You're trembling so bad I think you might just collapse to the floor if I let you go. I rock my hips, rubbing up against you, rubbing you against the door. You lean your head back onto my shoulder and I put my fingers on your lips.
You bite my finger and the sharp sting of pain makes me twitch. I force myself up against you harder and you gasp and moan. I slide my hand round your shoulder, my fingers clawing across your throat, and I arch you back slightly while I thrust my hips forward. The door bangs in the frame as I push you up on it again.
Then your hand is between us, your palm facing out, you fingers seeking along my jeans until you grab the belt hooks. Your thumb finds the top button and you press at it, fumbling to undo me. I want you to. I want to be naked and up against you. I back up just enough to give you access, but I don't help you. My hands are busy.
I hold you steady with one hand and I slide one the round your chest, slipping my fingers down between your breasts, rubbing down the center line with two fingers. I want to pull your hair and I want to put a hand between your legs. I just don't have enough hands. I explore your chest, teasing your nipples with my nails, rubbing firmly round the curve of your breasts.
My jeans come undone and at once your hand slides into the front, your fingers grabbing roughly against my panties. I move forward again, trapping your hand between us. Your wrist pressed against your ass and your fingers pressing the cloth of my panties hard into my pussy. I try to bite your ear but get a mouthful of hair.
You're trying to push your ass out and I'm rubbing myself up against it while your fingers wiggle up between my legs, trying to work round the edge of my underwear. I use my hand on your chest to hold you now and move my other hand round your hip, curving round the front until my fingers find the hot wet lip of your pussy.
My jeans are slipping down my thighs and you manage to pull my panties aside. I feel your finger pushing into me and I mirror with my own finger on you. I'm breathing hot in your ear and I wonder if you can smell the vodka in my breath. I want to eat you. I want to fuck you so hard you scream my name.
Each time you move your finger I do the same. You slide it in, hooking at the hot, wet flesh and I curl my finger in you. I move on my toes, rubbing my chest on your back. My bra rubs against my breasts and I wish I was naked. I can't stop now to undress. I don't want to change anything in case you stop moving your fingers in me. I'm so hot I could burst.
I move both hands between your legs, relying on the fact that you're leaning your top half on the door to keep balance. I rub my palm over your clit while my other hand pushes into you. My breath is coming out in uneven gasps and shivers. My legs feel unsteady. I push up onto my toes, my calves twitching and I know I'm going to cum first.
I don't try to fight it. I let your fingers guide me. You must know how close I am because you start to rub slow and firm up the front of my pussy and I tremble against you. It rises in me like a flood; from my toes to my throat every nerve pulls taught at once. I feel my whole body shudder as the wave breaks and escapes my mouth in a long silent cry.
For a moment I can't do anything but stand there, bathed in the glow and the warmth of your body. I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to work out how to breathe. Then the air slips from my lungs in a sigh.
I slide myself off your fingers and I can feel my arms are shaking. You're standing naked up against the door. My arms are still around you; my hands are still clutching your pussy.
I move smoothly and firmly, taking your shoulder in my hand and turning you round to face me. I push my lips onto yours and find your mouth is hot and open. I push my tongue into your mouth, hungry for you. I can taste the mint of your toothpaste. I dread to think what you can taste in my mouth.
I stand up close to you so that your nipples brush my t-shirt with every move I make. I slide my hand up between your legs and gently caress you. I run my finger slowly along the lips of your pussy, from one end right to the other. You're trembling again and I hold you steady with one hand on your shoulder while I rub you with long, rocking strokes. I kiss your neck, your throat, your collar. I nuzzle up against you and lick your ear.
I can feel your body shaking. I can pull you right to the edge with just the tip of my finger. You dig your toes into the c
arpet and lean your head on the door. Your eyes are closed. Your mouth is open. Your legs are losing control.
I'm barely touching now. Each little brush of my nail on your clit makes you convulse right through your whole body. I keep touching. You're going to cum. I can feel it. You can't hold it much longer.
I slide my finger up into you all the way. A firm, slow thrust until my palm feels your wet lips. You gasp and shake. I rock my hand up against you. Your knees fold under you and you grab hold of me to steady yourself. You bury your face in my chest and cling to me; your whole body rocking like an earthquake.
You twitch for ages, each little spasm coupled with a gasping breath. You fingers dig into my shoulders and I feel like I'm supporting your whole body with my one hand. After long, glorious moments, you pull your hips away. I feel your body slide off my fingers leaving them sticky and wet, cooling in the air.
I wrap my arms about you and we stand a moment, hugging in the early morning light, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You look up, your eyes shining like stars. Your cheeks and throat are flushed red and hot. I kiss you tenderly. You brush my cheek with your hand.
You dress quickly while I sit on the bed and watch you. I've probably made you a little late for work, but I hope it was worth it. Once you're ready, you kiss me and run.
I lie back on your bed, my jeans still undone and open. I can still smell you in the room. I feel warm like I'm wrapped in cotton wool; safe in the cocoon of your home. I know I should shower. I know I should probably eat something. But I just want to stay here for a while remembering your body, your heat, your eyes.
The End.
The Lap Dance
We're standing in middle of the hotel room, your hands in my hair, my hands gripping your shoulders, holding myself up on tiptoe, pressed against you as our lips and tongues intertwine. Your strength thrills me, but tonight I have something else in mind. I back you up to the desk chair, pressing down on your shoulders to get you to sit. You look up at me, quizzically.
"I owe you a lap dance," I smile, bending down to loosen your tie. Sliding it free, I rub the silky material across my lips as I sidestep behind you. I lean over and whisper in your ear, "Do you trust me?" as I reach for your hands.
Excited at the thought of surrendering control to me, you let me loop the tie around your wrists at the back of the chair. Moving in front of you now, I start a slow strip tease, grasping the hem of my shirt and raising it as I dance a slow samba. I expose the soft skin of my stomach, my pants riding low on my hips, as I sway them seductively. Then higher, stopping just under my breasts, pausing to run my hands over them, my palms caressing my aching nipples. Raising my arms above my head, I slide one arm, then the other, out of the sleeves, and turn my back to you as I peel the shirt up over my head. Turning to face you, cupping my breasts, my large, rosy nipples erect and plainly visible through the white lace bra, I move in close, so close you can almost get your mouth on them.... But not quite, and then I back up again, rubbing my thumbs over my nipples, which you know sends sparks straight to my throbbing clit. You see me momentarily lose my place, my eyes closing, a soft moan escaping my lips, before I remember what I'm doing, and slide my hands down my sides and over my hips. I unbutton and unzip my pants, and slowly shimmy them down, turning and gyrating in front of you until I step free of them. White lace panties cling to my smoothly waxed pussy as I approach you again, straddling your legs, and rolling my hips. You can smell my arousal and see the sheen of moisture between my legs. Sliding a finger slowly across my wet cunt, I raise it to your mouth, and paint your lips with my juices, before backing away.
Standing in front of you once again, I unclasp the front closure of the bra, letting it fall from my arms. My nipples are hard and erect, and I cup my breasts in my hands again, rolling my hips the way I'd like to ride your cock, because my clit is engorged and aching. Finally, I can't take anymore, and one hand steals down to skim over my swollen pussy lips, lightly, ever so lightly, making my clit pulse and throb and wetness drip from my cunt, playing until my knees threaten to buckle, and I stop, breathing heavily. Once again I turn, presenting you with the view of my firm round ass and swollen cunt as I peel the panties off and bend to remove them.
I approach you, inches away, and slide my finger down between my pussy lips, gasping as I finally rub across my clit, and plunge into my wet hole, stroking, while you watch. Stopping and leaning over you, I bring my wet fingers to your mouth again. You suck them in eagerly, groaning at the taste of me, as I begin to unbutton your shirt. I replace my fingers with my lips, kissing you, tasting myself on you, tongues tangling as I lick into your mouth, hungry for you. I slide down to my knees between your legs, pulling your shirt apart, off your broad shoulders, revealing your magnificent muscular chest. I stroke the hard planes of your chest and abdomen, loving the feel of your warm skin. Looking into your eyes, I gently stroke the throbbing hardness between your legs, loving the sound of your moan, and the desire burning in your eyes. I unbutton and unzip your pants, and you lift your hips to help me as I pull them off, taking your boxer briefs with them, eager to have you naked before me.
Sliding my hands along your thighs, I lean in and lick the length of your shaft, savoring the taste of you. Cupping your balls in my hand, I swallow the head of your cock, moaning at how good you feel and taste in my mouth. Sucking and licking hungrily, my hands busy at the base of your cock and on your balls, I bring you close to the edge. You groan as I let your shaft slip from my lips. I slide my body up along yours, your wet cock slipping between my breasts as I lick and bite your nipples.
"Tell me what you want," I breathe against your chest.
"I want to fuck you," you growl, knowing how much it turns me on to hear you say it. "I want to slide my cock into your hot hole. Long, slow strokes, teasing you the way you're teasing me."
I smirk, just a bit, because while I would love that, this time I'm in charge.
"Or maybe, I'll just take this luscious hard cock," I say, grasping your shaft with one hand, "and use it for my own pleasure."
I climb on to the chair, straddling you, my dripping cunt poised over your pulsing member, and slowly ease myself down, feeling you fill me, hearing your sharp intake of breath as my wet, warm flesh envelops you. I start a rhythm of riding you, grinding my clit against you on the downstroke, my nipples rubbing your chest, my hands on your shoulders, as I rock up and down. Your mouth is on me, anywhere you can reach, and then you latch on to that spot at the curve of my neck... It's all I need, and I cum, screaming, pussy muscles clenching and convulsing around your hard cock, collapsing against your chest. Bracing your feet against the floor, you flex your thighs and hips, thrusting hard into my limp body to find your release.
Long moments later, I lift my head from your shoulder and whisper in your ear, "Now it's your turn to tie me up."
The End.
Dirty, Dirty Girl
She had never done anything like this before. She wasn't sure if she would go through with it. Things were bad at home, but had it come to this? A few hours before she had wandered across the street from her hotel to the bar and grill in search of something to eat, now she stared at herself in the mirror of her hotel room bathroom, a strange man sitting on her bed, waiting for her to return.
She brushed the wayward strand of brown curls from her eyes and stared at herself. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She felt faint but giddy. The first time she had had sex flashed across her mind. A dorm room, a beautiful (but inexperienced) college boyfriend had done everything possible to make her feel special. A tingle rose through her body at the memory of having her legs wrapped around his waist.
This was different. The anxious feeling in her stomach was the same but whereas that first time had been a night enfolded in youthful innocence and exploration, this was darker, corrupt, even... dirty. The word flashed through her mind and she felt herself get wet. "Dirty girl," she thought playfully to herself, "dirty, dirty girl." But far from dissuading
her, the phrase helped her find her courage. She reveled in the thought. She would go through with it after all.
She walked through the door wearing a red negligee that clung to the curve of her breasts and hips. He smiled, stood up and walked toward her. Not so much a walk, but a swagger. The same swagger he had used as he walked across the bar to her table. He wore that same confident smile that made her blush like a school girl.
"I'm Rick," he said as he slid into her booth, not waiting for an invitation. She had glanced around nervously, not sure if she was looking for help or was afraid she'd get caught.
"I'm married," she said trying not display the least bit of confusion.
"So, what? You're not allowed to talk to other men?" he played coy. "That's a pretty tight leash your man keeps you. You're not in a cult, are you?"
"What? No, of course..." and she trailed off, realizing he had unsettled her, gotten underneath her and caused a bit of confusion. He signaled to the bartender for a beer. She took a deep breath. "Look Rick, I'm very flattered but you'd best spend your time elsewhere. I'm really not interested."
"Oh, come on now, I'm just being friendly. I'm guessing like me you're just passing through," He leaned a bit over the table and lowered his voice, "and to be honest, you're the only one who looks the least bit interesting to talk to." He was cute. He had a rugged, sun-baked look about him, but his speech made him seem more refined. He could pass for a cowboy, but she guessed he was more likely a teacher of some kind, or maybe even a doctor, something that needed some education.
She smiled at the compliment. "Suit yourself."
Now she stood awkwardly in the bathroom doorway trying to remember how to look sexy as he approached her. She needn't have worried. He unbuttoned his shirt as he approached her, letting it fall to the floor and revealing a well toned physique. She suddenly worried that her body, which was still well proportioned despite having become a bit fuller in the years of marriage, was not good enough for him. She took a hesitant half step backward, part out of shyness, mostly out of fear of rejection.
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