I briefly considered renting a place in the city, for business, of course. But I knew the temptation would be too much, and so I opted for frequent flyer miles instead. With no set place, to stay I could choose brief rentals of sordid little spots that suited my mood and need for discretion. And this city was perfect for that.
The first time I came back I rented a place in a hidden alley and tortured myself by waiting until all my work was done before sending him a message with the address. No waiting this time, as an almost immediate reply came, no words, just the time he would be here.
I waited just in the hall and when the knock came, I opened the door and pulled him into the dim light so fast he didn't have time to speak and slammed him against the wall. He winced as the mailboxes dug into his back, but I sucked his breath into my mouth before he had a chance to make a sound. I pressed my chest against his, my excitement rising another notch as he flinched and arched against me trying to get away from the wall. I kissed him as tenderly as I could stand to and slowly slid my hand down his body to feel his hard cock straining against his jeans, against me. The feeling made me lose all focus and in that second of melting, he grabbed me hard around my arms and roughly pushed me against the other wall. He is more gentle than me, but stronger, so I am truly trapped, trembling, but not from fear. He forces my legs apart with his, thrusting his thigh against my crotch and almost growls as he roughly kisses my neck, biting me harder than he should and holding me tightly enough to bruise me. I melt again, and I can tell that the sound I make when he crushes himself against me freezes his nervous system for one second, and I escape, push him back, under his arm and up the stairs, to the next landing, high enough for him to see I am naked under my short silk skirt. I stop and turn around. Stroking my skirt further up my bare thigh, then look at him with all the longing I have been saving, watch him stagger where he stands in the face of it, and turn and run.
When he reaches the top of the stairs, I am standing naked in the dim light from the courtyard window. There is only one door, I am leaning against the frame when he reaches the top of the stairs. Suddenly feeling nervous and vulnerable, I shiver again, despite the early summer heat, sweat on top of goosebumps. He moves across the landing so fast it feels like a dream. He stops, quivering head to toe, almost touching me, cups my face into his hand and looks into my eyes. From that second, I am suspended from his palm. He kisses me like a first kiss, like a memory while his hands completely explore the shape of me from my face, as far as he can reach. I am nothing but neurons, and all awareness as he follows his hands with his lips. As he begins to trail kisses across my collarbone and wraps his arms around my waist, I turn the knob behind us and we half fall, laughing quietly, into the hot, tiny room. I close the door behind him, crushing him much more gently against this door, with my whole naked body pressed to him, returning his kiss. He does not struggle at all as I half pull him across the room, stripping him as I go and backing him against the bed. It is big, it is clean, there is almost nothing else in the room. For this short time, life is perfect.
As he stands before me, I kiss him, licking my tongue across his lips in clear threat and promise as I unbutton his jeans. I push him backwards onto the bed and cannot help but smile at the pleasure and disbelief in his face. I finish stripping him, touching him, licking him, the fan clicking away on the little table and the sounds of the city in the hot day. Today, his sweat is better than cool water to my tongue. I kiss my way back up his body, taunting, vicious – he lets me. And find my way to his neck, his face, his mouth. My hands wander, minds of their own, playing evil tricks on his skin ambidextrously. I cannot stand it, I cannot wait. I hungrily, greedily kiss and lick my way down his chest, shifting my body until I am kneeling beside him, my breasts on his chest and stomach, nipples hard against him, and all the more excited by his skin, and my mouth trailing little hot, wet, flickery kisses to his cock. With one hand pressed tight between my own legs, the other just-so-tight around his shaft, I lick my way from his belly-button so slowly that it is probably cruel. He does not complain. The only sound in the room is our breathing and the sound of sticky lips and fingers on sticky skin. The anticipation as I flick the end of my tongue against the damp head of his cock is worth it, I feel myself get incredibly wet and moan involuntarily as he sucks in his breath. I kiss him, sweet, then without warning, suck him into my mouth, my tongue, my lips, curving against him, and then I begin to slowly, move my hand, stroking him, licking him with my tongue and then sucking him into my mouth again. Flicking over the tip of his cock, slippery-quick sucking him in again like a cherry, cradling him on my tongue, wrapping my tongue around him and sucking with my lips at the same time. For this moment, he is mine. The sweet salty taste of him turns me on even more and I can't help but moan in the back of my throat. When I do, he does, and reaches for me, I am so turned on that I feel insane, as if this is the only place in the universe, as if nothing matters but the taste of his skin. I continue to stroke and lick and suck him as I move my legs around and then over his legs, reluctantly pulling my mouth off of his cock but not being able to stand not having him inside me for another second. I climb up him, my skin damp from my sweat and his, and as I kiss him slow and deep, I straddle his cock and very slowly lower myself onto him. All the way, slow as Christmas, tight, wet, hot, and when he is to the hilt in me, I lean back, place my hands against his thighs and rock back just a little, and tilt my hips, to get him as deep inside me as I can. My eyes are closed but I hear him groan and smile. Slowly I begin to rock my body, slippery, against him, each stroke making me insane with pleasure. He grabs my hips with both hands as if holding onto a wild horse. As it feels better, I move faster, and as I move faster he moans louder and as he gets louder, I get hotter and then I sit up and fuck him like he has been a bad, bad boy.
I press both hands into his chest, pinning him against the bed, shift my legs to hold him down and still deep inside me, raise his arms out and pin him with my hands and fuck him hard and fast, like I've been holding out for years.
It feels so good, I feel almost drunk with pleasure, dizzy with the sound and smell of of us in this little room, with the feeling of him hard inside me, and the taste of him on my tongue. As I stroke him with my whole body, faster, harder, and feel him rocking with me, against me, I begin to feel my body tense in a tell-tale wave of pleasure, so tempting... but instead of immediately satisfying my primal urge, so tempting, I stop for one second and look at him, as lost in this full silence, in the feeling of our bodies as I am. And when I see those eyes, so familiar, but so strange and new, to see them this way, I cannot help but kiss those lips and when our tongues meet, we both involuntarily buck our hips against each other and I feel the first hard wave of orgasm start deep inside me. He feels me tighten around him, my whole body tensing in extraordinary pleasure, shuddering against him, moaning helplessly, sucking on his tongue. He strokes into me again and again, causing the pleasure to intensify, and again, and just when I think I will die from coming so hard, I feel him tense, and pull me tight to him as comes deep inside me, filling me slam full of hot cum as I press myself onto him like a second skin. I continue to come hard, spasming against him, slippery wet. He bucks and moans beneath me until he is spent, and I am spent, and we both lie there, until the sticky heat becomes too much, and we peel apart, kissing and laughing under our breath.
We lie beside each other beneath the fans, cooling and drying, but unable to keep our hands or lips completely off of each other. We nap a little and fuck again, slow and sweet - oh, and that is another story for another time, dear diary. Eventually, we fall asleep, and when I wake up, he is gone. But there is a note beside me, with an hour and a date, and I smile and fall back to sleep, dreaming of the next time.
-ZF 2011
