Just For Her Ch. 02

*Chapter 2: More For Her*

It was her rule, she thought. She could break it if she wanted to, and the urge to leave it behind was building.

She’d made it getting ready for the night, during one of the times she paused to remember the afternoon, and tease her pussy with the memory and anticipation. It had been so hot because it was so unanticipated, and just about her as a woman and nothing else. He’d been captured simply by the sight of her, and had brought her to orgasm on his hand without ever hearing a word from her.

She was sure he’d do it again, and resolved to let him try. She’d not say a thing to him, and see how that worked out.

When she walked into the hotel bar exactly one minute late, she’d found him waiting, seated at the bar. She had savored the look of relief and lust that passed over him at her arrival, and had met his eye with shoulders back as she’d walked to him. As he rose to greet her (in more than one way, she noticed), she stopped a pace away and held out the small gift bag she’d brought for him.

Seven things went across his face that wanted said, but curiosity won out: “What’s this?”

She just smiled wider, and nodded toward the bag.

Reading her gesture perfectly, he took a discreet peek at the contents, and lust promptly returned to his face. It had indeed been a good idea to bring him the panties she’d worn that afternoon - he’d sort of wrecked them getting to her, anyway; why not? The gift had brought him instantly into the state he’d been when his arms were last around her, and that was exactly how she wanted him.

“I really wanted to ask you for those this afternoon; thank you so much. Can I get you a drink?”

She didn’t move, not even her smile - she just shook her head no.

He paused for a moment, confused, and then seemed to catch on.

“You’re still not talking to me, are you?”

Another headshake no, smiling and reaching to straighten his tie, so he’d know it wasn’t a bad thing.

His eyes lit up as her hand reached him.

“But you want to listen to everything I tell you, don’t you?”

Something in the way he said it - quietly, just for the two of them - made her knees just a little weak. No longer sure whether it was unlike her, she simply nodded yes, and her breath caught in her throat as she looked in his eyes.

The excitement in them matched hers as he gently took her hand from where it had frozen on his tie.

“Then come with me.”

He led her by the hand out of the bar, walking quickly through the lobby to the stairwell. They eagerly dashed up two flights of stairs, with one heartstopping pause when he seemed to be considering simply taking her right there. Through the door, the hall, and into his room they went, barely breaking stride.

He pulled her to him and they kissed - he tasted of the drink he’d had while waiting, poor boy must have gotten to the bar early for her. His hands on her hips felt good holding her against him, and her knees went weak again remembering what they could do. She was acutely aware that the erection she’d been eyeing that afternoon was pressing into her, and it seemed quite promising as well…

Suddenly he stepped back from her, and was again leading her by the hand, across the room. He sat on the edge of the room’s best chair, the one so very like the ones downstairs, leaving her standing in front of him.

“I want to see all of you now - I’ve been thinking of you all day. Please show me.”

If he had been expecting some slow teasing strip, he was just wrong - she’d been thinking of this all day as well, and she wanted to be seen. Buttons flew open, her skirt dropped to the floor, and she’d not even considered wearing panties on this visit. Within moments, she was nude to her heels, watching him intently for reaction.

For a moment, it was just a smile and a deep breath, as his eyes traveled up and down her.

Then he leaned forward, and things began seriously to happen.

His fingertips began just beneath her navel, tracing lightly and slowly outward, up both her sides. He murmured compliments as they tickled along her ribcage, bringing his thumbs to the lower surface of her breasts. His thumbs met her hardened nipples as his fingers slipped across their sides. She drew a deep breath as he lightly brushed across them - there go the knees again - and held it as he began to knead and tug.

He shifted his hands so that his palms were keeping her warm, and stood - very close, but not touching her, except for his constantly moving hands. They moved back across the ribs again, and up, encouraging her to raise her arms above her head. He leaned fractionally closer as his hands caressed all the way up her arms to her hands, his left hand taking both of hers in a gentle grip, made firm by his excitement. Her eyes turned up to him, savoring the hungry look on his face as his right hand slid down to her neck, then to the small of her back.

With his quiet, appreciative words and the slightest pressure of his hand on her hip, he led her into a slow pirouette, still holding her arms above her head, eyes feasting on the sight of her. She felt like she was being committed to memory, though the way he touched her as he guided her through the turn excited her as if he knew everything about her body already.

About three-quarters of the way through the turn, he stopped her. She realized she was standing fully exposed, arms and breasts held high, about four feet from the room’s window. The curtains were thrown back; she was open to the town.

He stepped between her and the window briefly, to guide her hands down to the sill, as far apart as her shoulders and then some. He bent and whispered in her ear, in the same tones he’d used that afternoon. “Keep those right there. You might need the support.”

It’s difficult to leave speechless a person who wasn’t talking, but he’d managed it; his hand slowly trailed down her spine as he walked down to stand behind her. She felt pampered with all the careful attention her body was drawing from him, and from half the city too for all she knew. Her head spun as she tried to anticipate how he might touch her next.

His hands cupped her buttocks and briefly squeezed before sliding down the backs of her legs, finishing by bending to carefully tickle the backs of her knees. His breath poured warm on the small of her back as he did this; she felt an answering seepage beginning to flow from her cunt. His thumbs hooked the inside of her thighs and encouraged her to stand open - she amazed even herself at how quickly she shifted to a spread out stance. (Congratulating herself briefly for choosing the short heels when dressing - she’d thought she might need shoes she could fuck in…)

He knelt behind her, thumbs sliding quickly upward to squeeze her buttocks aside, parting her labia in the process. His growl seemed to indicate he enjoyed the view as he moved to place his mouth on her pussy.

As he began to kiss and lick the length of her lips, a tremor ran through her, and she began to reconsider the wisdom of her rule. His warm tongue made one slow, forceful pass across her cunt to pause while pressed against her stiffened clit, and she decided that moaning didn’t count as talking.

He began lapping at her clit, slowly then quickly, softly then firmly, with his strong hands holding her in position on his face. Suddenly panting and swearing were just fine with her too. Her back arched to rub her pussy against him harder, hoping to drive something inside…

When she shuddered with orgasm, she felt her cunt squeeze against nothing, and spray her juices onto him. He steadied her through the waves of it, tongue gently teasing aftershocks from her, him panting almost as hard as she was. As soon as she was collected enough to stand, he almost leapt to his feet, and she heard the unmistakable sound of a belt unbuckling and a zipper coming free.

She looked up at his semi-reflection in the window, and made a move as if to turn and help him, but stopped as his hand reached out to her hip.

“I want you just like this.”

She looked out at the city again, had a brief attack of modesty, and reached toward the curtain.

“Leave it open. Everyone looking wants to be us right now - let them look.”

Her hand went back to the sill, to exactly the same place. Her back arched again, waggling her ass just slightly as she waited for him, and she briefly wondered why she was following his lead so completely. Maybe it was all the orgasms…

Suddenly, she felt his tip rub along her still-soaking labia. She barely had time to brace before his cock was in her to the hilt, and it was hard to say who groaned louder as they realized they were fucking at last.

His hands locked on to her hips, keeping her in place as he thrust with all the madness of his waiting. Suddenly she couldn’t stop talking, urging him on, telling him how she needed him to cum, as they fell into a frantic rhythm. His cock slid easily in despite its girth, balls slamming against her still-sensitive clit on each stroke.

He paused at the deepest point inside her, and drew her harder to him, fingertips perhaps bruising her hips as he came. Throbbing, pumping, soaking her completely. Emptying in pulses that she felt as separate things, merged into a moment just for her. Satisfaction flushed her face as she saw their half-reflection, frozen together just as they had both hoped that afternoon.

She clenched to keep him in, but he softened and flooded out of her, hands finally thinking to relax. He gently pulled her upright and over to him, wrapping his arms around her. He gave her a slow kiss that still tasted of her own juices, his cock slippery against her belly, her nipples warm against the silk of his once-again-crooked tie. She sighed some small endearment as she buried her face in his chest, enjoying the trail of the dampness they’d made leaking down her thighs.

“So you’re talking to me now?” he said, with the mischievous grin she’d first seen earlier that day.

She smiled back, and giggled. Straightening his tie, she simply nodded yes.

He rolled his eyes and stretched out an arm to draw the curtains.

The public show was over - the rest would be just for them.