This gorgeous story is written by Nooky and originally appeared on her website. It is read here by Girl on the Net.
You’re supposed to meet at the elevators at 6.30 — drinks and supper and then, after, the train back to his place, your first time sleeping there. You’ve fucked at yours, a couple times, once in a hotel. A blowjob in the park, behind a fenced-off carousal. The pre-date quickie on his couch last week when you’d picked him up. But this is the first time really going to his.
6.29. You toe off one heel, then the other. Long day. Back-to-back meetings and then a rush to finish emails before you had to leave. You weren’t staying late. Not today.
6.30. Your toes curl against the carpet, not quite nervous, but — excited. The thought of his body has hardly left you all day — the smell of him, the press of his hands on your hips, the way that the feel of his mouth makes the rest of the world turn to instant whiteout. You wonder if his conference call ran late, if —
Zzzz. Your phone, buzzing in your hand. You look down and there’s a message on the pushscreen.
‘Hey, you wanna swallow some cum right now?’
‘Holy SHIT,’ you say, loud, like, loud, outside-voice loud, and clap your phone to your chest by reflex. Fuck. Thank god there’s no one else at this end of the hall. But oh holy ff–
‘YES’, you type, hit send, start walking, realise you don’t know where he is. Stop. Your pulse is hammering warm in your throat. Type. Erase. Blink. What are words what are wooooord–
‘Where?’
‘Single stall on 27th.’
You know it, yes, ok, it’s only two floors and you don’t wait for the elevator. Halfway up the stairs you realise your heels are still lying on the carpet in the hall. You don’t go back.
There’s no one around on 27th but you knock, anyway, giggle at the absurdity of it. If he’s not in there he won’t answer and if he is, well —
‘Hey,’ he says, kinda breathy, and the lock clicks and you pull the door open just enough to get inside, close it again behind you. Keep your fingers on the handle a second just to steady yourself because fuuuuck, he wasn’t kidding, he’s hard as a steel rod and he’s not just idly stroking his dick, he’s jacking himself off fast, thumb catching a little over the swollen lip of his glans — thwick thwick thwick. His dress pants are pooled around his ankles and a tiny part of your brain notices the scratch on the floor from the belt buckle as he steps back. He catches the wall again with his palm, grins at you.
‘Ready?’
Part of you wants to try for a witty reply but god, your brain’s dropped all its threads except for the one tied to the slick choked slide of his cock through his fingers and the way the muscles are tensed in his thighs. You drop to your knees, tip your head back, get one hand wrapped in the tails of his dress shirt. Your tongue is playing along the edge of your upper lip, hungry. His hips start to buck, enough that when you lean in a bit the head of his cock skates wet over your jaw, bumps over your lips. The taste of him pulls at a tangle of cords deep inside you, sends a frisson over your scalp.
‘Please,’ you say, tentative, at the last, cause you haven’t said it before, with him. ‘Please, please.’
He looks at you almost-startled, bright-eyed goddamn yes, and he strokes himself twice more, quick quick, and comes over your lips, over your tongue, drips a little over your chin. You laugh, a quick choke of joy, and put a hand over your mouth, and he pulls you up and kisses you.
‘Fuck,’ you say, suddenly, and laugh. ‘Forgot my fucking heels.’
This fabulous story is also available as audio. Click ‘listen now’ above, visit NookyEverAfter.Wordpress.com for more of Nooky’s amazing work and head to the audio porn page for more sexy stories read aloud.