Tryst

A damp London Winter evening. I'm toying with my Scotch when your unmistakable form bustles into the hotel bar out of the wet. You are a little flustered, escaping from the downpour, getting your bearings in the unfamiliar locale, but you pull yourself up short when you spot me, and compose yourself. I watch you take a deep breath and approach my table. I stand, we kiss cheeks conventionally, a stilted first greeting - but then there is a moment when you take my hand and slowly, reverently, kiss the back of it. I feel our roles locking into place.

We walk together to the desk, to pick up the key. To any onlooker, it's an unreadable relationship - are they friends, colleagues, married, lovers? We give no clues, staying close, but not touching, padding down corridors of fragranced carpet - but once the door clicks closed behind us, we are in our arena. I hold my position, back to the door, and you stand before me, head tilted up, trying to read your Sir's face. I think I sense your hand wanting to take mine, but instead you retreat, and find a place in the centred of the warmly-lit room. I move to the deep armchair by the bed, cast my coat over the back, sit and cross my legs. I pick a stray thread from my knee as you silently begin to undress.

Your clothes are work clothes, and you treat them with care as they come off - your coat gets a hanger, your jacket and the skirt you slip out of are folded neatly and placed on the side. You pause momentarily on getting to your underwear - black, detailed, expensive, sheer - to let your Sir look you over, but you are wary of vanity, and need no signal or token of approval to resume. I remain blank as your hands go behind you, and you bare your big breasts, the rosy nipples hard and tight already. You slide your panties down in a single gliding motion, and step gracefully out of them, finally resting in an erect stance, head lifted, hands behind your bottom. I allow myself a thin smile at the sight of your smooth bare cunt, adorned with no more than my initial, in slightly smudged mascara.

"Let me see if you recall your positions, cunt." Your hands are raised instantly and placed behind your head, breasts pushed forward, and feet a pace apart. "First, Sir." I nod, and roll my index finger. You sink to your knees smoothly, bringing your hands onto your thighs, palms open and upward. Your knees are apart, and your cunt yawns, glistening. "Second, Sir." I nod. Now you bring your hands up behind your head again, and open your mouth, extending a broad flat tongue. "I know that's the third, cunt, beautifully achieved - no need to speak. And your last?" You roll over promptly, laying your face flat on the carpet, and reaching back, knees apart as before, you pull the cheeks of your bottom apart, presenting your wet cunt and dark anus. "Fourth, Sir." I let you hold your fourth position for a good long while before I get to my feet and approach you with a panther's pace.

The look on your sideways face discloses your keenness to show your Sir that you do not require the enforced restraint of bonds. Your eyes turn up to me as I undress. My cock, semi-erect, hangs above your head - can you inhale its scent? Once naked, I reach down and tenderly stroke your hair, then curl it around my hand and lift you into a kneeling position.

I sit before you, resting on my elbows,legs open, and instruct you to suck my balls. You get down and crawl towards my groin, moving in between my thighs. Your face presses against my sack. You suck each ball into your mouth in turn, gently, and then nuzzle my sack, burying your nose and mouth in deep, taking my scent all over your face. Your eager tongue then probes lower, darting back and forth across that sensitive ridge that divides balls from hole. You kiss my perineum, making it glossy with your sucking and kiss, and lower, lower goes your tongue.

At last the tip arrives at my pucker. I lean back further to let you in, and widen the spread of my thighs. You dab your tongue tip gingerly at first on my tight knotted shithole, then start to swirl it over the ridges and around. Growing more daring, you begin to kiss my arsehole, then suck at it. I roll over and use my hand to spread myself, letting you in. You guzzle hungrily now at my shithole, seemingly starving for it. I force my hole out for you, feeling your tongue push against my opening. You succeed, and your slick tongue writhes inside my dirty hole, your face forced deep into my arse crack. You guzzle as if I'm delicious.

I reach down and pull your head out of me by the hair. Your sticky messy face shows a delighted and triumphant expression. "And now, would you like to taste your Sir's cock, cunt?" You nod, and very correctly answer that you would, very much. "Very well - you may kiss your way along my length, from balls to tip, but you will not take me in your mouth, and you will not use your tongue. Your hands, of course, will remain on the floor."

You lean in, and again bury your mouth and nose in my balls, nuzzling deep in the seam at my cock's root. Slowly, delicately, even reverentially, you start to kiss your way along my balls and shaft. My cock stiffens and rises at my sweet cunt's ministrations. Your lips graze my fat vein, feeling the heat of my cock against your face. You crane your neck and at last reach the tip, kissing the opening, savouring the bead of precum that crests it.

You lick your lips, and look longingly at me. I nod. I give you permission to lick me. Your tongue snakes out and you lap at my hard cock with long, deliberate licks. My cock gleams with your saliva. I stroke your hair as you lap up and down me, wetting your face with my cock. I push your head against me when your mouth is at my cockhead again. You understand that you are to open your mouth.

Eagerly, you take my cock into your mouth and down deep into your throat. Your head bobs as you press the head against your airway, gagging yourself. You cough, drool, and push down again. Hollow-cheeked, you suck hungrily on your Sir's cock, head sweeping back and down again, the noises of your slurping and sucking resonating in the basement. Your chin drips with saliva; it spills over your breasts.

"Good girl." At last I ease myself out of your mouth. You struggle to hide your disappointment. I stand, cock glistening, and lift you by the hair to a standing position too. I bend you over the arm of the room's plush couch. You move, half-willingly, half-propelled by my hand on the back of your neck. As your head is pushed down, your pale bottom rises. I grip my cock and start to work the swollen head in between your thighs, which you obligingly spread. Your cunt is hot and slick and dripping with juice, and as my cock glides inside your fuckhole you groan. I push my fingers inside your mouth for you to suck as I ram my cock up you unceremoniously.

My weight crushes you into the arm of the couch, winding you, and each thrust of my cock makes you shudder, squashing your big tits. I take my wet fingers out of your mouth and, looking down at my shaft pumping you, coated in cunt cream, I finger your shithole, making the ridges glisten. Ah, but no, I do not plan to use your bottom just yet. I let you suck my fingers again, and then raise my hand high.

Down it comes, hard on your arse, the pale flesh reddening instantly. I lift it and smack you again. "Such bliss to fuck you and spank you, my little whore," I snarl. I slam my pelvis forward, filling you with my fat cock as I slap your bottom raw, alternating between cheeks. The floor under your feet is spattered with your dripping cunt juice and I switch between fingering your shithole and slapping your arse.

I come to the point at which I can no longer resist. I order you to reach back and spread your cheeks wide. I watch that tight little knot stretch as you comply, reading your feelings of thrill and exposure and humiliation and sluttish desire. I spit onto my fingers and apply the saliva carefully, letting the pads of my fingertips circle the wrinkles of that tight hole, occasionally brushing the lips of your cunt below.

I introduce one slick finger, opening you for the first time. I savour your accelerated breathing, the tensing of your body. I turn my finger inside your arsehole, stretching you, delighted to be inside you, not caring if you're dirty or clean. I add a second finger and spread your tight ring wider, loosing you for the arsefucking to come.

At last I place my cockhead on that reddened relaxed shithole. I tease you, make you beg for it. "Do you want this cock up your arse? Do you really want your Sir to fuck you in your shithole, cunt?" You consent, then plead, then at last beg for it.

"Please, Sir! Please! Please fuck your filthy fucking whore up her filthy fucking arse! Please force your fat cock up my tight dirty shithole! Please fuck me! Fuck me! I beg you to fuck me, Sir!"

When I reward you, I take it slowly. Your hole spreads and engulfs my hard cock. I splay your arse cheeks wide, looking down at the glorious sight of your shithole taking inch after inch of fat cock. I pay carefully attention to your little gasps and cries, to the shudder of your slut body. The thought that my cock is moving so far up inside your body, through a hole that really shouldn't be taking a cock, is exquisite. Yes, deep up your shithole, deep into your dirt.

My arousal means it won't take long for me to reach my climax. But before I do, I want to hear you fucking scream, I want to hurt you, I want to fucking pound the shit out of you, fucking your arsehole raw. Then I want my cock to spit hot cum way up your arse, deep inside your body, and I want your hole to drip white from me when I'm done.

I can last no longer. I pull out of your arse and yank you off the couch by the hair, pushing you to your knees before me. Wank me into your face, cunt, I bark. Your small hands clasp my cock and you pull the sticky shaft as you know your Sir likes. Your face is raised, your mouth open. You feel the swelling vein; you close your eyes and open your mouth wide.

I lavishly spurt my come onto your face. One thick dollop of semen is deposited straight onto your tongue. it runs down your face, you let the semen in your mouth spill from your lips and down you chin. Your tits gleam with saliva and come. You open your mouth as wide as you canwithout spilling any of the nacreous deposit, keen to show that you have not swallowed, that my semen is swilling around your tongue and teeth.

Having made eye contact from your kneeling position, you begin her show. You allow some of the semen to slowly trickle over your lower lip and down your chin, to drip at last onto your tits. You suck the strand back up and let it trickle again. Growing more daring, you blow a come bubble to treat your me as my cock sags.

You scoop come out of your mouth with curled fingers and hold it high above your face, then let it spill onto yourself. You smear your face in the come. You drool the last of it onto your tits and throat. You rub the come over your body as widely as it will go. You adorn yourself in semen. Then you start to collect it in your fingers and to eat it. You seem ravenous for the salty taste, sucking your fingers, making theatrical lip-smacking noises.

When you are done, you open wide to show me that all my semen is now in your belly, all but the traces crisping on your face and body.

I open my arms and you plunge into my embrace. I lift your head and look long into your face, our communication wordless but heavy with meaning. I smooth away your sticky hair from your face and press my lips to yours. We share a deep salty kiss, each tongue swirling around the other. We lie back on the floor, nude, pressed hard together, knowing we have forged a rare bond, sealing something matchlessly intimate. We listen to our heartbeats, the pulse of our blood, the rhythm of pour breathing. We form one body.