Tuesday, 12 May 2009

You can leave your hat on



She must have seen him some time before she came over to introduce herself and shake his hand because, as she withdrew hers, he was aware of the scrap of lace pressed into his own.

Crumpling the material into his palm and placing it in his pocket, he was aware of the warm dampness against his skin, evoking memories of other moments when he had been in contact with the most intimate of her lingerie. To know that his mere presence could still excite her was quite gratifying.

They had not seen each other for over a year. Circumstances had conspired to end their affair. His work, his home life, her domestic difficulties. And, suddenly, there she was at the same function.

But only for a moment because, by the time he had recovered himself, she had left his group and disappeared into the crowd of people chatting and schmoozing all around him. Normally he hated these military vs civilian 'pressing-the-flesh' events but this one had just become much more interesting.

He brushed his hand across his face and was instantly aware of the musky smell of her arousal that had imprinted itself from the fabric onto his fingers.

He had to find her.

Stopping only momentarily to make smalltalk with each familiar group, he made a circuit of the room, with no sign of her. So he went out into the corridor to avail himself of the facilities. She was coming out of the Ladies Room when he finally spotted her. High heels clicking against the marble floor, hips swaying as she meandered nonchalantly away from him, seemingly unaware of his presence.

Checking his surroundings to ensure there was no one else around, he marched purposefully after her. At the sound of his pursuing footsteps, she paused for a moment and looked over her shoulder. Registering his intent, he heard her audibly catch her breath and try to move away but nowhere near quick enough. Grasping her by the wrist, he dragged her through the nearest door.

The disabled toilet. Hardly the most salubrious meeting place but coherent thought was beyond him. It was a room with a door and a lock and he had to have her.

His hand moved up to her throat, forcing her back into the room and locking the door with the other. Pushing her until she jammed against the support frame around the lavatory, he grasped her hands in one of his and held them above her head before his mouth swooped down to possess hers. Dexterously, he managed to remove the damp thong from his pocket and manipulate her hands until he was able to secure them to the frame with a distinctly un-sailor-like knot.

Then he stood back to survey her. She was far too clothed for his liking and he set about unbuttoning the fastenings at the front of her shirt dress. He would have liked to just rip it open but he had a care for her reputation and was careful to allow her to retain her modesty when she came to leave at the end of the encounter.

As the dress fell open, he had no such compunction about destroying her bra. Ripping at the lace until her breasts were exposed, but allowing her to keep the supporting frame underneath. Naked, but for the wires, her black lace stockings and some impossibly high stilettos, she reclined against the bars and waited.

He watched her as he carefully removed his uniform jacket and hung it from the hook on the back of the door. Loosened his tie and hooked it on top of the jacket. Slowly unbuttoned his starched shirt, before adding it to the accumulating pile against the door. He slipped off his footwear, slid down his trousers and boxers and folded them into a neat pile before turning to face her in complete Full Monty mode.

Standing in just his skin, the tattoo on his arm confirming that the Navy was his first and only mistress, topped by his uniform hat, he dropped to his knees and buried his face between her thighs, glorying in the soft sigh of pleasure that instantly emanated from her lips.

Looking down, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his shoulders leaving only the soft felt of his khaki hat exposed. The strong leg muscles pulling his mouth tighter against her drenched pussy; his tongue penetrating her to its fullest extent as his nose tickled her clit.

Eating her hungrily for he was starved. It had been too long. He couldn't remember all the sane reasons that had persuaded him to stay away. He no longer cared. There was only the knowledge that he had to know that she had missed him too. There was no time to fuck her properly but he had to hear the word. His manhood demanded it.

So he attended to the job in hand, licking and sucking, tickling and tracing. Lips, tongue and fingers in, out and over until her legs clenched painfully around his head and his face was soaked with her. Her breath in frantic gasping gulps above him as her body tensed and she exhaled 'Chiieeeefff' in one low long moan.

He moved away, adjusted his hat and looked at her. Spent and slumped against the frame. The juice of her satisfaction dribbling down her thighs. His hand grasped his erection and began to pull at it. Within seconds, the semen spurted out in shuddering squirts onto her breasts and belly as he trembled uncontrollably with the ferocity of the explosion.

She smiled up at him as he began to rearrange her clothing. Carefully rebuttoning the frock over the sticky mess beneath and then attending to regaining his own uniform.

He kissed her then. Gently and tenderly as he reached up to release her wrists and chafe the blood back into her hands.

Replacing the thong in his pocket, he lifted his cap in salute, turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

He wondered how he could ever have imagined that this was over.

7 comments:

Kyra said...

You are such a gifted storyteller. I could imagine myself a fly on the wall, watching the whole delicious scene unfolding in front of me.

Dark Side said...

What a beautifully written story Cake...xx

Gorilla Bananas said...

I love hearing about the old face-curtsy manoeuvre. Especially when it's performed to perfection!

Loving Annie said...

was one of the sexiest strip teases I've ever seen, with Kim Bassinger in 9 and a half weeks... If only it had been someone other than Mickey Roarke, I think I'd still watch it !!!!

Very sexy story, Cake... Lots of pleasure and lots of underlying emotional pain... That sort of chemistry gets you every time....

Jackie Adshead said...

Phew....that was hot, and very enjoyable! You write a good erotic story, Cake!

Riff Dog said...

You really do this so well. Damn, this is a hot story.

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