Behind Closed Doors

The months characterised by my submission and acquiesce flew out the window once he was there before me. This flesh and blood man, skin soft, body hard, whose clean, sweet yet masculine scent left me swooning, would be mine for the taking. My own personal plaything, my fucktoy, my lover. Mine, all mine. For one day at least.

Having shed his coat in a heap on the floor, he stood in the entrance, watching and waiting silently, the short sharp breaths and straining bulge in his trousers betraying his arousal. I stepped forward, a little coyly, teasingly, pushing him firmly into the wall, pressing my hips into his erection, his hands supporting the small of my back as I leaned back, my hands caressing strong forearms, hips grinding ever so lightly, relishing the sight, delighting in the moment.

The tease didn't last long, my impatience finally crashing over me in a wave as my mouth found his. Much like our very public encounter the previous day, we became fevered and hungry and insatiable in a matter of minutes, lips and tongues lashing, devouring, tasting, kissing, kissing, kissing, deeper and deeper, harder and harder, his hands travelling from my back to my arse and back up to my breasts, my own making their way from his neck, along his shoulders to his chest.

Breathlessly I broke away, one hand on his chest as if keeping him at bay, my eyes locked securely on his. I moved in again for a more sensual kiss before I began unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it oh so slowly and deliberately from his trousers, fingers trailing through the gorgeously thick hair on his chest, my lips on that very silky spot on his neck, covering the long, lean line in deep tongue kisses that allowed me to absorb his very essence as I moved down, down, down his torso stopping once I was on my knees in front of him.

It was just as I'd imagined, just as I'd fantasized all those long nights alone in my own bed far, far away, touching and fingering myself at the thought of his rock-hard ready cock. My hand, still a little cold, reached out to him, rubbing and stroking him through the wool fabric of his pin-striped trousers just as it had done the day before. I leaned in, pressing my cheek to his now throbbing erection, running my face along the ridge, kissing him deeply, my hand cupping his balls, feeling him quiver at my touch as my other hand snaked around his arse and his wound through my curls.

I kept teasing, teasing, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, my hands trailing along his thighs and calves and back up to his raging hardness, rubbing, rubbing, kissing, kissing, kissing, until it was too much for either of us to bear. As I looked up at him and began to slowly unbuckle his belt, sliding it through each of the loops, his smiling eyes had transformed into a disbelieving yet hungry gaze. Flicking the buttons open and easing down the zip, my hand a thin layer away from his achingly hot flesh, I leaned in again to take in his scent as I eased him out of the boxers.

I was mesmerized, in fact I always am, at the sight of a hard throbbing cock. The sheer deliciousness of his thick shaft, angry purple head, shiny with precum, bobbing in front of me, is difficult to explain. Words often do it no justice at all. Licking my lipstick smudged lips, I kissed his tip, lightly licking at the sheen before opening my eager mouth wide to accept his big hard gift.

And what a gift it was. My mouth, my lips, my tongue, couldn't get enough, as I licked and flicked at his head, my hand joining in and stroking his length, his cock moving in and out, in and out, my mouth fucking his cock, his cock fucking my mouth, my unconscious moans, his rapid, excited breaths, my hands forcing in more, more, more fiery flesh as I gripped his behind, stroking, stroking his thick shaft as I moved down to take his balls in my mouth, gently licking, squeezing and massaging them with my lips, my mouth back on his cock, tasting his juices, oh baby you taste so good, stroking, stroking, stroking with my delicate fingers as our eyes momentarily met, my lips once again wrapped around him, you are so fucking beautiful, look at you, look at you, licking, flicking, swirling my tongue on his head and then down his thumping shaft, his knees beginning to buckle, the familiar twitch forming in his stomach as I threw off my top and leaned back to feel the first jets of searing hot creamy come splash onto my breasts, stream after stream after stream, my hands massaging in his newly expressed passion, his hands joining mine, my mouth back on his cock to lick him clean.

His sticky hands held out to me, he lifted me to my feet and kissed me deeply, tasting himself on my lips, tasting the sweet release of his desire just as we had talked about in our many exchanges. Breaking away I walked into the bathroom, stripped off my skirt and stood in front of the mirror in the lace topped stockings and satin g-string of his choosing. Soaping myself up at the sink, my rosy nipples hard and erect from the shock of the warm water and the events of moments before, he came up behind me, his large strong hands taking over, make circles on my chest, fingers tracing my breasts, pinching my nipples, hands rinsing me clean then patting me dry with the fluffy white towel. Still standing by the sink, our reflection beamed back at us while I reached back, hooking my arm over his neck and accepting the long, deep sensual kiss he offered up once again as his hands moved along the soft fabric of my knickers to cup my eager and very wet cunt.

And as I took his hand and led him to the bed, I knew from the impatient and hungry look on his face our afternoon of pleasure was only just getting started.