Lisa's Manicure

She left the salon with a swing in her step. She knew that her nails looked fabulous and that, even though she didn't get her manicures for him, he was going to be enthralled with them. Tiny metallic sparkles winked from the surface of pink lacquer. A shade of pink that was more than "Hello Kitty cute," but far from "Pepto-Bismol sickening," she knew exactly what his reactions would be. And this time, she was considering acting on his desires.

Men made questioning glances in her direction as she walked. It was a beautiful day for strolling from the shopping center to the car. More than one girlfriend or wife gave her a look that warned in the flash of an eye, "Don't you even think about him..." as she hurried to divert her man's attention from the freshly coiffed and manicured sexpot who cruised on by as if she didn't notice.

A doorman opened the door at her hotel with a flourish and an exaggerated tip of his cap and a bell hop tripped over a small bag in the lobby when she walked by. Thinking that the "me time" that she'd spent in the boutiques and shops was well worth it, she click-clicked across the cool tile floor into an elevator whose doors stood open. A young couple waited to ascend, but politely stepped aside when she entered.

"Floor, Ma'am?" said the young man. His tone was that of an eager suitor hoping to be favored with the slightest attention from an ignoring and out of his class woman. The young girl snapped her head in his direction and made such a face at him that she didn't have the heart to make things worse for him.

"Eight, please. And may I say, you two make a great looking couple." Not meant as a question at all, it did however divert their attention back to each other, hopefully not getting the young man into trouble for his obvious interest in her.

As the elevator rose, the two moved back together, his arm around her waist and her hand on his chest. She however, continued to look straight ahead and not pay them the slightest mind. The girl's hand made a quick downward motion, stroking its way lightly across the front of his jeans as it dropped to hang by her side. It was an innocent motion to the casual observer, but not to the beauty that had joined them in the elevator, who noticed the touch—and his instant change of facial expression at the touch. It was all reflected right there in the highly polished faux brass of the elevator doors.

This gave her an idea and she looked down at one of her hands to admire once again the job that had been done on her long and elegant nails.

In the hotel room, she caught him just out of the shower. Warm, humid air filled the room and the odor of fresh soap caught her attention. With a large white towel wrapped around his middle, he stepped out of the bathroom rubbing his black hair with a second towel. He immediately smiled upon seeing her. Then his eyes took her in and softened as a smile spread across the width of his boyish face. When she dropped the bags and set down her keys, he noticed her manicure. And the towel was barely able to conceal his interest.

She held her first finger up to her lips to shush the verbal reaction that she knew was forthcoming. He was typically very complimentary of her, constantly talking sweetly to her, and even such an attentive lover that he often skipped his own release just to concentrate on hers. But the idea she'd hatched in the elevator called for silence. She didn't know if he'd let her; didn't want to give him the chance to turn it around and make it completely about her. Not this time.

Pushing him gently back into the bathroom, she positioned him square in front of the sink with the room-width mirror directly in front of him. He tried to turn towards her and she grabbed his shoulders quickly to turn him back towards the mirror. Confusion and anticipation mixed on his face as she peeked from around his torso. He watched her intently as she smiled shyly up at him.

The towel fell to the floor. She scanned the mirror, looking him up and down. His interest in her was still apparent and before she could change her mind, she reached around his torso with her right hand and grabbed his erection. It felt hot and half hard, and she manipulated it just enough to pull him closer to the counter top and place his length flat onto the cool, granite surface. His eyes registered a surprise that the cold, unyielding surface could be comfortable and he smiled sheepishly at her in the mirror, as if a little embarrassed by the stimulation he was receiving.

Her left hand reached up and over his shoulder to be displayed in front of his face. He looked the pretty hand up and down, settling his gaze on the nicely manicured nails and their shiny, just applied color. Her other hand felt his immediate reaction as he stiffened more. She positioned the fingers of the hand closely to his face and mouth and he eagerly kissed the rings, nipped at the tips, and trailed a small kiss along the palm.

And then she began to give him her present. Making a fist around his shaft, she stroked the soft skin up to just under the head of him and then all the way back down to the root. His heavy sack bounced below him and he stiffened a little more. A questioning look was silenced by her as she leaned in closely to his ear and whispered, "I know you think about me when you masturbate. Let me do it for you while you watch me."

He became nearly fully erect in her hand.

And as she sped up her stroking imperceptibly, he sagged a little at the knees. He leaned against her just the tiniest bit and his eyes got heavy lidded.

"Don't close your eyes. Watch me! Let me watch you!" she whispered insistently through her teeth as he seemed to grow hotter and heavier in her hand.

She gripped harder and took note of the new angle at which his erection projected. No longer touching the countertop, he pointed straight up and away from his middle. Faster, just a little bit faster.

His chest heaved as his breath became ragged and almost labored. His back arched to move himself closer to her pistoning hand. To his mind, he was jacking off, but not. He was being jacked off as if he was doing it, but with someone else's hand...a soft, insistent, demanding, and well manicured female hand.

She worked him, watching his eyes, watching for the tell-tale signs, and reveling in the power she and her feminine digits held over him. He fought to hold his eyes open for her; she could see the difficulty this was causing him. He wanted this so much...so much.

A little bit faster.

A little bit faster.

And his chest was heaving; his legs barely able to support him. She felt more of his weight offered to her as he leaned further into her for support. Low, furtive moans belied the difficulty he was having holding back.

A little bit faster and this time, she increased her pressure. He was nearly fucking her hand, thrusting back and forth against her palm. As she prepared to get rougher with him to bring him to his climax, she felt her own sensation.

His hand reached between them and intruded between the fabric of her skirt and her belly and continued until it violated the inside of her panties. His eyes were no longer the heavy lidded ones of a man completely under her spell. He was now a man possessed with the knowledge of how much she'd been enjoying her actions. His fingers pressed tightly into her soaked furrow and she realized that this had also been a turn on for her, not completely for him.

She increased her pressure and speed again as it became a race to the finish. His knowing and strong fingers touched her in exactly the right place and her own knees went weak. They leaned against each other, both of them fighting for breath, both of them close to their climax.

No noise was audible except for the slap of his heavy sack against her hands and the moist manipulations he was making in her panties. Harder and faster, both of them worked to satisfy the other, to catch their own breaths.

Two crashing orgasms struck them at the same time. She bit down on his shoulder; he clamped his fingers tighter to her sex. Two intense feelings raced through two completely different people and the world prepared to stop. Time and motion slowed down; she whimpered into his shoulder; he spewed ropey ribbons of cum across the sink and down her hand. She gushed from her own sex onto his hand, soaking the panties.

And they both collapsed to the floor to catch their breaths and kiss gently as they recovered.