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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Tales inspired by a beautiful lady off this site...
Having spent a lazy Summer off the road, important meetings bring me South and it’s nice to be meeting for a third time in almost as many weeks. In the days running up its been tense this time round. Smoudering texts and late night telephone conversations counting down the time to an explosive sleepness night of interaction have been replaced with...not quite bickering, not quite distance. It’s like you're holding back something. I let it go. After all, a terse looking text message can actually be meant in the sweetest of ways depending on its original intent. In an attempt to impose some control over the situation, I insist on meeting at Golders Green. It’s not even convenient for me; it just comes to my flippant mind and the next thing its happening.
Northern line, Southbound platform 5.30pm.
You're prompt. I'm pleased, it’s almost like having the girl I know back on side where she belongs, where she knows she belongs. I take your hands in mine and kiss you tenderly on your cold lips, and the train appears out of nowhere and we board. Two stops and we're at Belsize Park. An eternity of steps lead us to the busy street. A short, silent walk, hands linked by pinky fingers and we're at the hotel, a modest affair with over friendly staff and who are fortunately, also fast and efficient. The lift yields little better interaction. And then finally the green light flashes in the key slot and we’re in the room.
You remove your coat and lay on the half made bed.
"God, I'm fucked"
The swearing annoys me and it's meant to. Every little thing since you arrived, in the days of seeming indifference, has been a prompt to this moment, an aching, a yearning for my touch. My hand burrows under your flowing dress and finds your tights. They're damp. Very damp. No knickers. No standing on ceremony. I lean in to kiss you, hand flat on your hot wetness but you bite my lip sullenly.
"Give me what I fucking came for" you sneer and my hand grips your swollen pussy, aching to be hurt. Slapping it hard, your eyes almost roll back in their sockets. Poking, tearing at your tights, I delve inside, fingers alternating, two, then three spread out wide, then just the one, jabbing almost in contempt. Your brave hand clasps the back of my hair, pulling my face close to yours, biting my lip again but this time wantonly, pulling away with a smile as your fingers join mine, tearing at the tights seam and finding your swollen clit. I continue to alternate my fingers inside you but as one, we instinctively know when to take you to another levels and as your action becomes more erratic, I hook two fingers hard inside and back on themselves, pressing hard on the inside of your pubic bone as you, lost in yourself really start to build in pressure.... the first stream comes out in a hot blast and as it does, my fingers slip out of the hot wetness of your pussy and into your well lubricated ass, applying the same immediate pressure up inside you as you grind and writhe, fingers jabbing hard on yourself as you lose it once more and soak the bed in your wonderful intimate gush... the next wave comes almost immediately and your fingers leave your opening and your hands clasp my head tight, pulling my lips to your but not kissing me because your lost in a growl of obscenities and uttering my name as the ridge of my palm does your fingers work against your clit, fingers still knuckle deep in your ass. You're a mess. Of sobs, of wetness, dress ready for the cleaners, tights destroyed, a massive shudder and the realisation you're still in your shoes, a crumpled, orgasmic mess, pulling herself together in the fading light of a London hotel bedroom.
"THIS IS WHY... I BELONG TO YOU" you whisper but somehow growl in my ear. It’s going to be a long, long night. |
