The candle on the table flickers, and the light catches your wedding ring. Just enough of a sparkle to break my concentration and remind me how illicit this is.
The bar is cool. Underground. It looks like the sort of place you might find live music on a busier night and a drag cabaret once a month. Long banks of soft half-booths around the wall, and a cocktail list too long for them all to be made with expertise. It’s quiet and private now though. My only issue is it’s too dark to properly enjoy your eyes.
Watching you walk to the bathroom before was a treat. I wanted so badly to follow you, throw you up against the wall and make out hard with you. And your smile back at me as you crossed floor hinted you may have been thinking the same.
Conversation flows as easily as the wine and your laugh is just as intoxicating. I live for the gentle touches of my hand, arm or leg that punctuate it.
We both know that pause. It’s not as much awkward as anticipatory. We know what’s coming and meet each other halfway. Your lips are so soft and full against mine, matching each other’s movements in unspoken dance. My hand snakes under your hair, cupping the side of your head as we kiss more deeply. Time seemingly stands still. Lost in each other and the moment.
You break our connection but only slightly; our faces still close enough to feel each other’s warmth. Half-lit by the candle, you are a masterpiece. A sculpture carved from marble made human. We smile at each other and both let out a soft, nervous giggle.
I feel you against my lips once more, though this time it’s the soft skin when your neck and jaw meet. A soft gasp tells me I’ve found my mark as my hand slips from your knee past the hem of your dress. Your thigh is radiating heat; your skin almost creamy. My hand traces further along, matching my lips moving down your neck. I stop to drag the back of my nails against your opposite thigh which sends shudders through your body.
My mouth returns to yours as my fingertips find the lace of your underwear. I lightly run them across the material, trying to divine how they might look. I feel the warmth emanating from you as I press my hand more firmly against you through your underwear. Your mouth becomes hungrier and more urgent as you shuffle your legs slightly wider, welcoming me to explore you.
I run two fingers down the middle of your underwear, lost in the softness of your lips and unable to truly tell where warmth becomes damp. What is clear, though, is there is not much lace between my fingers and your pussy.
Not wanting to break the tension just yet, I begin to tease your clit through your underwear as you break our kiss with a sharp intake of breath. I feel you shuffle your legs slightly wider again, both making yourself more accessible and begging me to make the most of it. The feeling of lace against your sensitive pearl is clearly having an effect. I can feel you soaking your underwear.
“Put your fingers in me now, or take me somewhere you can.”
I ignore you biting down on my lip as I pull your underwear slightly to the side and fill your greedy pussy with my fingers. If this bar was busier, some might have noticed you throw your head back as my fingers found your g-spot. You’re so wet, so warm and so inviting. I love feeling you tighten around my fingers. I can only imagine how it will feel to have my cock buried inside you.
This is just a tease though. I want you wanting more. Needing it. I tell you I want to pay the bill because I can’t wait any longer to bury my face between your legs. I slide my fingers from you as easily as they slipped in, and press my palm flat against you through the lace, wordlessly thanking you and promising to reward your patience.
I can see your wetness on my fingers. The candlelight catches that too. I clean them the best way I know and kiss you deeply.
Predictably it takes forever to pay the bill and I can see the lust swelling in your eyes with each passing second. No doubt you can see the same in mine. I watch your ass sway as you walk from our table to the bathroom again, and the wink you give me before you slide past the red curtain is loaded with sexual cheek and charm.
As is you shoving your balled-up, soaked underwear in my face, and then my pocket upon your return.
“Are you going to fuck me now or what?”
I’m transfixed again as you climb the stairs ahead of me. Rain has started to fall while we were underground. Not heavy, but annoying. I tell you the hotel is just around the corner and set off towards with your hand in mine.
The streets are busy with umbrellas walking up and down, and a half-private brick archway between two buildings is just what I’m looking for. I nod my head to the left and you follow. The cold bricks are a far cry from the plush half-booth of the bar but it’s the perfect setting as far as I’m concerned.
I push you against the wall, leaning down to reacquaint our mouths; your warm lips in stark contrast to the rain tumbling down either side of our archway. Again, my hands clasp your face as our lips meet hungrily.
I pull away, and tell you to turn around. You gleefully oblige, even spreading your legs slightly apart. I tell you what a good girl you are as you flip your dress up, finally giving me a glimpse of the beautiful behind that’s cleared my mind of anything but it. I can’t help but rub my hand across it, tracing each curve with my palm.
As tempted as I am to unzip my fly and slide inside you, I fight the urge to take you right there against the dirty brick archway. My fingers slip into you with ease again, this time eliciting a louder, deeper noise from you. I pull my fingers from you and turn you around to face me again.
Our lips are one as my hand flies immediately up your dress. There’s no more teasing as my fingers work furiously between your soaking pussy and throbbing clit. I want your knees to buckle under the weight of your pleasure. I want you to need me to hold you up as your orgasm races through your body.
Your arms grip me tightly, looped around my neck. This is what I want. I want you to come hard for me. Right here. Where anyone could turn the corner and see you in the throes of bliss.
My spare hand finds your throat and I gently squeeze. I can feel your cunt tighten around my fingers as your breathing quickens. Your nails dig into my shoulders through my shirt as your head rocks back, narrowly avoiding hitting your head on the bricks. You collapse against my chest as I slowly run my fingers across your soaked labia, each brush of your clit still affecting your balance.
“Fuck. Now take me to this hotel. Now.”