London Window Display
I was on a high from the theatre; the sounds, sights and smells of the west end. A shared bottle of white in Soho definitely helped. Buzzing from a fantastic night out, and tumbling into our deluxe hotel suite, I was feeling so incredibly aroused and daring.
Crossing the spacious room to the window, I was about the pull the curtains closed to get undressed when I heard him behind me.
“No… leave them open.”
Oh god, he was in that mood… I felt the instant rush of excitement at his wicked words, the dizzying realisation that his plans matched mine. We were going to make the most of our alone time together. No matter how loud, filthy and debauched.
I turned and couldn’t help smiling at him as he lounged on the bed with that predatory glint in his eye.
“But… I need to undress!”
“So? Get undressed.”
Gulp. We were only one floor up from the ground, and outside the window was a busy road with regular passersby. The flimsy voile over the glass would have done little to disguise the happenings in the room – even if it wasn’t also parted in the centre. The illuminations of the streetlights outside didn’t help, nor did the piercing overhead lamp conveniently located by the window.
Slowly, I started to strip for him. Murmuring his approval at the view, and my compliance to his depraved wishes, he watched. And squirmed slightly – yes, I’m sure that wasn’t my imagination. He was getting turned on and it wasn’t just the view of my curves slowly being revealed. It was the fact he was making me reveal my body so close to the outside world, almost in public. And that I would willingly put myself in such an exposed position just because it pleased him.
The tight black jeans were first to be kicked away on the floor, followed by my low, clingy top. Standing in just my black lace thong and bra I let myself feel the full effects of the evening we’d had, the happiness, the elation which was only part due to the wine. A deep breath and the bra was gone… then a couple of seconds more and the thong was, too.
“Good girl… now come here.”
Oh thank goodness, away from the window. He was beckoning me for a kiss, just an innocent kiss… Except of course it wasn’t. Leaning forwards to kiss him opened me up to the window behind, and if I hadn’t felt my nudity while stood upright, I certainly did now. I was entirely exposed to the world. I felt him smile against my lips, which were raggedly drawing breaths in nervous excitement.
Swinging his legs round to sit on the edge of the bed he carried on kissing me, murmuring how good I was for him, and how turned on I made him. Then, suddenly, his touch… his fingertips were seeking out and brushing over my nipples. I hardened under the feather-light touch, my breasts hanging heavy beneath our frenzied kissing. To my surprise, I felt my pussy rebelling against the hot shame I felt; it slowly leaked its arousal which undoubtedly glistened in the streetlight glare at the apex of my spread thighs.
His fingers went from light, tender touches to teasing, deliberate fondling. He felt the entirety of my breasts, the weight of them one in each hand, then returned to molest my puckered nipples with firm pinches and twists.
My legs were shaking, and I reached that point of handing myself over entirely to the sensations and to the moment. There was no fighting against the tide of pure need that his kinky demands, hungry mouth and expert fingers had enticed. A low, carnal groan… then breaking free from the breathy, elongated kiss I nuzzled my tired head into his neck. He simply laughed, and continued teasing my body.
My arousal leaked freely now. I could feel the droplets making their way down the inside of my thigh. I wanted him inside me. Before long his touch and growled words would make a mess of the barely held 90 degree angle my body was in. He knew he was sapping what little strength my body had left, and he took me by the throat. Carefully but firmly he moved my face backwards, to give me that clit-tingling dark look. The one which seems to see and uncover all the darkest secrets of my soul. With his other hand he reached down to my wetness.
Feeling how wet and needy I had become, thanks to his depraved humiliations and abuse, he laughed again.
“Someone’s all excited… I wonder why that is, slut?”
My response was an involuntary whimper.
We’d planned to use the rope, the cuffs, the toys we’d packed and brought with us. But that first night in London, we were both so rampant. Both so in urgent need of this physical and psychological reunion of our solely adult selves, without any of life’s responsibilities in close proximity. We just came together, as if we were finally alone in the world, and fucked.
We fucked so hard, and so deep into the night.
He dragged me on to the bed with him once he’d had enough of making me into a public window display, and spread me as he undid his belt and trousers. Pulling his gloriously hard cock free from his clothing he thrust himself fully and easily into my tight slippery entrance, and I let out the low groan of having my aching need satisfied.
The first time he came, he came like that. I was naked, he was still clothed from our night on the tiles, simply penetrating me with his urgently thrusting cock.
It was a long night of exploration, rediscovery of each other’s bodies, our purely adult selves and sating each other’s carnal needs. We felt free to give ourselves over to the passion and needs with full abandon, 100 miles from home and the responsibilities of life. He repeatedly expelled his frenzied lusts into my wanting, addicted, hungry body, and we didn’t care who heard us.
I woke the next day curled in his arms, filthy, used, sore and happy. Perfection.
Our first night in London was simply pent-up passions finally released. The second night proved to be just as passionate, with a twist…
You can read all about it next time.
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