Follow Your Fantasy

by Nicola Jane

  Your shoulders scream in protest as your arms are pulled by the chain above you and you cry out again but fortunately he's already slipping out of you and standing up. Your full weight is against the beam at your stomach and you shiver as his hands smooth down your legs to your ankles where he releases the cuffs and you shift your feet together to get a more even balance and straighten up. Next he frees your hands and slips a T-shirt over your head as you rub sensation back into your wrists.

  You reach up and tug off the hood just as you hear the click of a switch and the lights go out.

  'Ah, hope you don't mind,' he says in an almost sheepish voice. 'Just, you know, maintaining the illusion.'

  'For next time?' you ask.

  'Yeah, next time.'

  The end

  Or...

  The earth most certainly moved for you, but you’re still ready for more so retrace your steps...

  Room 942

  Your body knows what it likes before you can think what you do. Your lips part and you push your tongue against hers as you hold her hand against your skin. She brings her other hand down and you shiver as one finger presses against the thin material of your panties.

  As suddenly as she started, she pulls back and withdraws her hands to leave a cold emptiness in their place.

  'Just investigating,' she says. 'Now I know what assets I have with me. Ready?' The lift comes to a halt and the door pings open. 'Of course you're ready.'

  Skin till tingling, you follow her down the corridor as she counts off the doors to Room 942. '939…people fucking…940…Vice Presidential knee pads…941...Ride her cowboy…942…Jackpot.' She stops and puts one finger over your lips. 'Let me do the talking.' She takes a hotel key card out of the envelope and slots it into the lock.

  The door opens to reveal an empty room with a double bed and a tray on the side with the champagne and two glasses. The sound of water running tells you the occupant is in the shower. She gestures to you to drop your bag by the door while she pours champagne into one of the glasses.

  Just as the champagne foam reaches the top of the glass the water shuts off. Doors bang against tiles and a towel clad man steps out of the steamy bathroom. He's towelling his dark hair and looking down but you register his smooth, tanned torso and you stare in disbelief that someone as good looking as this pays for sex. He looks up and his eyes flick from Giselle to you and back again.

  'Only two champagne glasses?' Giselle asks in a low, throaty voice.

  'I wasn't expecting twins.'

  Giselle picks up one of the glasses and, eyes fixed on him, raises it to her lips and licks the edge of the glass and then passes it to you. His attention switches to you and you hold his gaze and take a sip before copying the way she licked the rim and handing it back to her. This time she drinks, the glass held high so her throat is exposed. She swallows deeply and puts the glass down in challenge. The opening move.

  'Guess which one of us is wearing your present.'

  'Hmmm,' he pretends to mull it over. 'I don't want to ruin the surprise.' He sits down in an armchair at the side of the room. The towel falls open to show strong, muscled thighs and the beginning of a bulge rises above them. 'Show me.' The counter move.

  You stay still, unsure what to do next. Giselle is wearing it so maybe she'll put on a show. But she told you just to follow her so you await instruction. Your pulse quickens with a fusion of excitement and nerves. When she runs her fingers down the side of your face, pushes your hair to one side and turns you so your mouths meet, you realise she is going to put on a show. But with both of you.

  As she kisses you she whispers, 'You're wearing something decent under there, right?'

  'Mmmm.' Your agreement morphs into a moan of arousal and she smiles against your lips. The kiss deepens and you return it with none of the hesitancy you had in the lift. She breaks off to run her tongue down the side of your neck and back up again while she reaches behind you for the zip of your dress. She pauses there so you can locate hers and you will yourself to summon concentration for the simple task.

  You unzip each other's dresses in synchronisation, your bodies pressed together from groin to chest so that the dresses fall open at the back but stay in place. You trail your hands down her silky skin and rest in the curve of her back. Nothing interrupts your journey as, unlike you, she's not wearing a bra.

  Taking your cue from her, you slide her dress off her shoulders. A stolen glance at the man in the chair assures you he's completely spellbound. His focus lasers into you and you wonder who's enjoying this the most. Your dress pools around your waist and you lean back to look as you reveal her naked breasts. Their golden roundness stands out above her taut stomach and the nipples are brown and prominent. You can't help yourself reaching up to touch them, skimming around the curves and across the nipples with the palms of your hands. You take their weight and push them together, thumbs rubbing her nipples until they stand even more erect. Her hands pull back your hair from your face which clears his view but you don't need her to push your head down as it bows of its own accord. First one nipple, then the other is in your mouth like sweet, juicy raisins rolling between your lips. You flick your tongue across them and her back arches. The fullness of her breasts presses against your face in a delicious fleshy crush.

  She taps her fingers against the side of your head. The jarring beat interrupts your feast and you struggle to your feet again leaving your hands to play where your mouth just was. She sits on the edge of the bed so her face is level with your midriff which she covers in slow kisses as her hands work your dress down over your hips. The kisses go lower and lower, lighting up your skin like a Christmas tree, alternating with bites on the sensitive places in the hollow of your hip bones. Her fingertips play at the edges of your panties, pause and then disappear underneath until you groan.

  She's unwrapped you for him first, heightening his anticipation at seeing his 'present'. She stands and pushes you onto the bed where you can lay back and watch the show yourself. Her body is perfect, long and lean with those gorgeous breasts, and she knows it. She faces him as she peels her dress off so you get the first glimpse of the string of sparkles that cleave her pert buttocks. It's all you can do to keep your hands to yourself and you trail your fingers over your stomach in an attempt to recapture the sensation of her tongue.

  Turning back, she bends over you on her hands and knees, her ass up and pointed in his direction. With one flick of her wrist behind your back, your bra pops open and you pull it off while she gets to work on your nipples. Your head falls back as you revel in the expertise of her flickering tongue. Her hands push under your ass, propelling you towards the head of the bed and, when you look up, you see why.

  The client has left his chair, unable to be just a spectator any longer. He kneels behind her and his cock juts out from between her thighs. His hands roam over her breasts, squeezing their taut peaks in an echo of her mouth on your nipples. He watches you both from above and your eyes meet first his and then hers.

  She mouths instructions at you and mimes obscenely until you get the message. Scooting down the bed, you take the end of his cock between your lips and lap around the head of it. Your face and nose press against the mound of her pussy, still barely encased in the pink thong. His cock rubs against her and releases her feminine, musky smell.

  He withdraws but you stay where you are, excited that now there is no obstacle between your mouth and her most intimate places. She spreads her legs wide and leans forward and then his hands take down your panties and his cock pushes into you. The lack of foreplay doesn't matter as you're already so wet. You ease her thong aside and sink your face into her hot pussy. Your hands cup her ass to steady yourself and meet his as he stretches apart her buttocks so he can fuck you and get the best angle as you gorge yourself.

  You slide your fingers over the lips and folds of slippery pink flesh until you find her clitoris. Your tongue presses down and then lets it bob back up. You circle, never quite touching wher
e it's most sensitive. You send your tongue down in search of the deepest, wettest place and plunge it inside her. The walls tighten and you're more aware of her pussy than your own even as the man hammers inside you. Again, he changes position abruptly and pulls out, leaving you empty and unfulfilled.

  His cock buffets your chin and competes for position inside her tight, slick pussy and you quell your immediate annoyance. Her hand takes your chin and raises your face towards hers so she can kiss you deeply again, the taste of herself slathered on your lips. She silently urges you to back up and you lay back watching him drive into her. His eyes are open, completely focussed on you as Giselle forces your thighs apart and burrows into your pussy. With two fingers deep inside you, she pushes upwards, zeroing in on your G-spot with the sureness that maybe only another woman could. Her eyes will you on and you realise that your orgasm is for the audience. You sweep your hands up over your breasts, tweaking the nipples until they swell and stand erect, and abandon yourself to cry out as she thumbs your clit. She flits over its hood, softly, too softly, bringing you back down a notch.

  Her fingers inside press up so the centre of the pleasure is surrounded on all sides and then she switches to the sudden, velvet violence of deep thrusting. You shudder to an uncontrollable climax, your body spasms, your pussy clenches and unclenches in two and then three waves of orgasm. His strangled grunt as he bucks against her is a muted echo of the animal cries issuing from your lips.

  You wilt on the bed, marvelling at the skill with which Giselle satisfied you both. You register him get up and go to the bathroom, scooping up his towel on the way. Giselle lies on her side next to you, and it's as if there has only ever been the two of you.

  Her face appears much less hard to you now. 'I think the double act was a success,' she says.

  'You think he was happy with that? I think I got the most out of it and I wasn't even paying!'

  Giselle smirks. 'Didn't I tell you the fee? In an envelope, please. No cheques.'

  For a split second you believe her. She rolls off the bed. 'Didn't I also tell you to lighten up?' She picks up her dress as the shower in the bathroom starts running again.

  'Let's get out of here.'

  The end

  Or...

  That was wild, but you’re still hungry for more. You decide to retrace your steps...

  Dinner and Desert

  You take a seat next to the businessman, aware of the rhinestones on the thong pressing into you as you sit. If you lean forward the pressure of it shifts higher, perfectly designed to balance you on the edge of arousal and ready for a mild amount of mischief.

  The guy beside you sighs as he stares into his whiskey. His tie is loosened and his top button undone and he has the sunken posture and lined face of a man defeated by his day.

  You order a white wine spritzer and take a sip. 'Tough day at the office?'

  He looks up surprised, whether by the fact someone spoke or because a woman is addressing him you don't know. 'Can you tell?' he asks, his dry tone showing he's not at all surprised his day is readable in his demeanour.

  'Something about the intensity of the conversation you're having with your drink gives a hint. 'He attempts a smile but it neither reaches his eyes nor the corners of his mouth. 'I hope the drink is telling you to relax,' you add.

  'If it is, it's not doing a very convincing job. What's yours saying to you?'

  'It's trying to tell me it doesn't matter that I was stood up.'

  'You should definitely take its advice.' He gives you a mock once over and raises his eyebrows . 'Whoever stood you up looking like that is an idiot.'

  'Thanks.' You smile and hold his gaze for just the split second needed to charge his compliment with more flirtatiousness. 'It sounds much better coming from you.'

  His smiles is genuine now. He downs his drink and sits straighter, shoulders back as if they've lost some of the weight bearing down on them. 'Then how about you take over the job of convincing me to relax over dinner?'

  That sounds like the beginning of mischief to you and you don't hesitate before accepting. He signals your move to the barman and you relocate to a small corner table in the restaurant at the far side of the bar. You are seated at adjacent sides of the table with your backs to the wall, knees touching at right angles, facing the rest of the not particularly busy restaurant. You order asparagus in butter as your mind is on other things than simply food. Inevitably the conversation turns to what you do for a living and then to his work woes but you're already thinking of something to break the monotony.

  You excuse yourself and make your way to the bathrooms and enter a cubicle. You slip off the thong and ball it up in your hand, not that the brief material takes much hiding. Straightening your dress, you emerge from the cubicle and check your reflection. The same glint is in your eye that you saw in the lift on the way back from room 942.

  You return to the table smiling and take your seat, pressing your thigh against his knee and slipping your hand onto his leg as you straighten the table cloth. The waiter has come in your absence and the fresh green spears of asparagus recline in a pool of buttery sauce. Tony, as you've learned is his name, along with what car he drives, how many meeting he's had today and with what results, looks up at your touch and you see he's almost finished a second glass of wine.

  '…so tomorrow's meeting is really the critical one. Without that–'

  You reach over and drop the thong in his lap.

  'Without that,' you pick up his sentence where he left off and change the ending. 'Without that I'm not wearing anything under this dress.'

  Tony's eyes pop and immediately look down although there's nothing to see since you're covered by the tablecloth which drapes to below your knees. You take an asparagus spear and bite into the juicy tip while he digests your news.

  'I guess we're not staying for dessert,' he says.

  'Oh, I don't know. Have you checked the menu?' You say it coolly enough but knowing he's still one step behind gives you a kick that doing the predictable meet at the bar, have dinner, go back to his room routine couldn't have matched.

  Another asparagus spear makes its way to your lips. You catch a globule of sauce from the tip with your tongue and take it into your mouth with your eyes locked on his. Whatever he had to say about work is diverted and his mouth hangs open.

  With a brief glance to make sure the waiter isn't hovering to fill your glasses, you take his hand and place it on your lap underneath the table. He just leaves it there, seemingly unsure how to proceed. You sip your drink and cross your legs, squeezing his hand between your thighs and then releasing it to sit with your knees slightly parted. You take a piece of asparagus and place it on his lower lip. He bites into it and the smell and flavour of the crisp, buttery spear spurs him into action.

  His hand slides down to find the hem of your skirt. He does the same glance to check for nearby waiters as you just did and then pushes your skirt up and sideways. There's a sharp intake of breath at the moment he finds you as naked as you promised. His fingers probe further and meet the mound of your pussy and you shiver involuntarily at the touch.

  You shift forward to the edge of your seat so your legs open wider and his fingers can go lower. It reminds you of furtive teenage encounters but far more exciting than you remember any of those ever being. He gropes around, simply revelling in the fact he's doing what he's doing rather than trying to satisfy you in any way. It's both frustrating and adding to the moistening between your legs.

  You can show him.

  You offer the next asparagus tip, hovering just out of reach. You shake your head as he goes to bite and instead push it into his open mouth, pulling it out just before he can clamp it in his teeth and then back again. The butter dribbles down his chin and you wipe it away with one finger and insert that into his mouth too. He takes his cue and slides his fingers inside you as you feed him more asparagus.

  Your other hand finds his knee and works up towards the bulge in his trousers. Y
ou trace the outline of his cock laying against his thigh and rub it with the flat of your hand, then squeeze tight. It takes some manoeuvring but you wiggle the zip down with your finger and thumb and find his smooth, hot cock which springs up under the shelter of the table.

  You enclose it in your fist for a few seconds and let him put his fingers inside you. He turns them upwards and digs as far as they can go, hooking them so they manage to find the bump that turns your insides liquid. You look out at the restaurant. A couple of tables are still full and the diners carry on eating as if nothing were happening. Tony's fingers move faster and his thumb presses upwards against your clitoris, applying a gentle pressure that spirals down and meets the point where his fingers are working inside.

  Your free hand grips the table and you breathe slowly in and out to stop from making a more audible sound. You squeeze and rub his cock up and down with as much finesse as you can manage at this angle. His face is red and an observant diner might think he'd bitten into a chilli. He jerks in his seat and a second later your hand is wet and sticky as he comes onto the underside of the table. The explosive end to your ministrations has put him off his rhythm. He takes his hand away entirely, adjusts his trousers and makes sure everything is in order again.

  'Look under the table,' you say, knocking your knife on the floor to give him an excuse for being there. He leans down and raises the cloth and under its cover you put both your hands under the table. You hold yourself apart and your swollen clit pops up to meet your index finger. You flick it quickly, welcoming the return of his fingers as they slip inside you again. In seconds you bring yourself you to a shuddery climax and he lowers the tablecloth like the curtains closing at the theatre.

  He's only just sitting normally when the waiter appears to take your plates.