She was late.

She was never late. It was five past. She said she would be here on the hour. The anticipation of seeing her again burning in his crotch. The slightest stray thought of her would normally have him feeling as if his arms were without purpose if they aren't holding her. His lips without purpose if they aren't kissing her. His cock without purpose if he wasn't deep inside her.

He could feel his erection pressing hard against his trousers. Looking down it was obvious. In his frustration he thought about when they last saw each other - in the shower that morning. She loved to tease him, hiding that fantastic body in some of the ugliest lingerie he'd ever seen. Maybe it was for more impact when she finally got naked. It certainly worked when she slipped of those huge pink panties, climbed into the shower cubicle and pressed her neatly trimmed bush against him..

Footsteps.

Someone was coming. But who. The hard staccato click of heels approaching slowly broke his train of thought. She said she had a surprise for him while she frotted against him, grinding into his thighs while she hugged him and came. He felt a little hurt he had been used for her pleasure while she had denied him, but she needed him horny for the surprise later. Where is she?

Knock knock knock.

Who the hell was this. He cursed his erection and knew he would have to hide his lower body behind the door. Where the hell was she. He located the spy hole in the door, cursing the way she always wore trainers, and how his anticipation of her would embarrass him in front of a total stranger. Through the spy hole he could see a dark haired woman looking the other way.

He turned the lock. Hanging on for dear life, he opened the door, determined whoever this was, they were not going to see the trouser tent his arousal had caused.

He looked on the doorstep of the cheap motel room he was in. He was desperate to avoid eye contact at all costs. His idea of fun was not having a huge erection while in front of a total stranger. Looking them in the eye would make it a million times worse.

His eyes found the floor easily. Then they found the shoes. Black stilettos, four inch heels. He had no idea how anyone could walk in these things, but he knew they looked great. He had fantasized about being fucked by a woman in heels for as long as he fantasized about women, and this was not helping him get away from hiding behind the door.

Black fishnets. Panning his head up and seeing the black nylon mesh enveloping the woman's legs left him startled. He could swear he felt the blood flow even harder into his cock, making it throb in time with his already pounding heartbeat. Another of his fantasies had manifested in front of him, and he knew he had to get rid of this person. Or fuck them. Either way he had to get release.

All he could manage as he caught sight of the black pencil skirt, just covering the knees was a weak “Hello”. He couldn't believe how weak his voice sounded in his own ears while he tried not to savour every inch of this woman's figure. But he couldn't help it. It felt like a lifetime as he panned his head up, taking in the shape of her hips, the delicately manicured fingernails, the slender fingers and hand placed suggestively on her waist, propping the jacket open. The slightly too tight blouse accentuating every curve, the lace of the bra straining to reveal itself. The hair just resting on her shoulder was as black as the night, and as she tipped her head, he couldn't help feel as if the woman of his dreams had just arrived, drawing a roadmap across her body of his fundamental sexual fantasies.

But something felt familiar. As he made eye contact he realised. She was no longer late. She was here.

Time was up.

“Darli...”

“Ssshh”. A perfect slender finger was placed vertically across full blood red lips.

He froze. Her stare felt like it penetrated his very soul and he felt paralysed. As he looked into the eyes that he could lose all concepts of time looking in, something felt different. She was deadly serious. She was in charge. Any urge to resist was not an option.

She steps into the doorway, pushing the door wide open. He provides no resistance as he takes half a step back, too shocked and surprised to show any embarrassment for the massive erection he pointed straight at her.

“I can see you're ready”, she says as she extends her hand and pushes him into the room with the most delicate pressure from her fingertips. He staggers backwards in amazement, almost falling over. She allows herself a secret smile while she throws her black leather trench coat over the back of one of the motel room chairs. He cant even stand up tonight, really he doesn't have enough blood for both ends of his body. That cock must be enormous, but there is a plan to stick to.

“Strip.” It sounded like exactly like the order it was as she turned to face him, adopting a wide stance, holding her legs as apart as to tension the fabric in the skirt. “Shoes, socks, trousers, underwear, shirt, in that order”

He obliges, finally revealing that massive erection to its adoring audience, poking out from under its shirt until he finally exposes his six pack. She breaks her composure for a moment, allowing her heart to skip a beat and a slightly deeper breath to be taken in. He notices, but he knows there will be no taking control tonight.

“Lie on the floor” she says, feeling that she will regret her next six words and the chance for pleasure she will miss.

He gets on the floor while she sits in the chairs to get a perfect view of his nakedness. Staring straight in his eyes she readies herself to issue the next instruction.

“I want to watch you masturbate”

Shocked, he just looks at her. He can't believe his ears.

“I want to watch you masturbate. Now”

His body tingled with excitement as he heard the order and moved his had down to the biggest erection he ever felt in his life. It was hard like stone. His single darkest fantasy was being fulfilled, and the woman he loves, the woman he never thought he could share this with was indulging him, on the day when she looked the most incredibly beautiful and sexy in the entire time he knew her. They held eye contact, the weight of her stare almost pinning him down, stopping him from moving everything but the hand gripping his rock solid cock, his vice like grip moving up and down quickly, making his balls bounce.

“Faster” she says, standing up to take off her jacket, sliding it off and dropping it on the floor. The blouse she is wearing barely containing her cleavage, but accentuating her perfect figure.

His breathing quickens. He is well on the path ecstasy, pumping his huge erection, a tiny spot of pre-cum already lubricating under the foreskin. Looking again, her blouse is almost unbuttoned as she looks up furtively. He knows she has planned something. Waiting to find out what that his makes him go that little bit harder.

Black lace bra! She never wears nice lingerie he thinks to himself. Never. His grip tightens as he admires the curve of her breasts.

She notices his breathing is really heavy, his hand is moving quicker than she ever thought it could. So that's what is looks like when a man wanks off, all breathless and thrashing. It kind of reminded her of the first time she used her vibrator, how she felt like she had to hang on for dear life as orgasm after orgasm pulsed through her body while she was thrashing round the bed.

Unzipping her skirt, she can feel her wetness in her panties, and how her cunt longs for his cock. But this is for him. Its not about her pleasure. Her own longing for an orgasm begins to ache in her pussy. Besides, she could always use her vibrator when she gets back, waiting for him to arrive. Or her fingers, when she gets back. If she can wait that long.

Suspenders. She is wearing black fishnet stockings. No woman ever wears them. Ever. His mind is brought instantly to the real world. This cannot be the real world. He is beating himself off and he is watching a woman in black lace lingerie, fish net stockings and suspenders right in front of him. Staring at the image of erotic perfection in front of him, he grips tighter still, his overwhelming urge to attain sexual ecstasy overriding any fatigue that begins to burn in his arm.

A front clasp. Not only is she wearing the sexiest underwear she has ever wore, but it is the only bra he would have ever been able to undo. It opens like a butterfly, revealing those perfect pert breasts. He longs to caress them, but the draw of his own cock overpowers him, and all he can do is look and wonder if she is either cold or very horny. It is quite warm.

She turns a quick one- eighty, sliding her thumbs into the waistband of her sheer black panties. She can feel herself becoming a little more moist, showing him that she is wearing a thong, and wondering how long he can hold off before he comes.

He looks as she bends over, the stilettos turning her legs into the most erotic shape he had ever seen. The narrow strip of fabric that flossed between her buttocks was slid down and the one thing he hoped for more than anything was for her to turn round. Imagining what that perfectly trimmed mound would look like framed by the suspender belt almost tripped him over the edge.

Stepping out of the panties, she saw how wet she was and knew that it would only take the slightest touch to tip her over to orgasm. There was one last surprise up her sleeve. It was time to give him all the reason he needed to finish.

Those amazing legs pivot and she turns round. She had shaved. She never ever ever has shaved, His cock wanted to come more than it ever had before as he finally understood why it was called the Mound of Venus. She was walking up to him.

Standing astride his head, she crouches down, wanting him to see her totally hairless pussy. Her thighs almost perpendicular, he can see the longing in her eyes, wanting to be touched, wanting to be totally exposed while he comes. She feels her labia separate, allowing him the most perfect view of the little cleft she had right at the front of her pussy. Her clit just peeking out glistening from all her juices. He moves into his final thrusts, hand moving so aggressively against his own cock he looks like he hates it. She places a finger just outside her vagina, sliding it forward, slowly but purposefully, sending earthquakes of pleasure throughout her body as the tip rides over her clit.

This is too much for him. Unable to hold on, his massive erection breaks into spontaneous spasms of pleasure so powerful he has never felt them before, blasting hot cum all over his stomach and chest. It was a good twenty seconds before he could stop feeling the pulses.

It was a good two minutes before he could open his eyes.

She stood there, naked except for the shoes, stockings and suspenders, picking up her coat, her warm smile was back. There were no more orders now, but a deeper understanding between them, the bond of love stronger than ever. He wanted to hold her, but they both had an desire to get out of the dingy motel get back to the hotel. But he needed a shower first.

“How did you know?” he is compelled to ask while she puts her coat on and buttons it up, finally realising why she brought it.

“You talk in your sleep. Get your shower and I'll see you back in our suite”

Kneeling down beside him, she kisses him tenderly on the cheek.

“See you in about half an hour. Happy birthday.”


feedback

Please be gentle with me. This is my first story... ;-)