Our NYC Night

We're in NYC for the weekend, walking down the streets of time square, and I'm holding your hand. It's late afternoon. We've checked into our hotel, kissed for a while, and stopped ourselves from ripping into one another. We can't yet. We have a big night ahead of us. We're going out to a classy dinner and a show on Broadway. This is my fantasy more than yours, but I'm convinced you'll enjoy it. I'm determined to. I'm dressed up a bit. Khakis, dark tshirt and a sport jacket. You have a sexy dress that makes me stumble. It plunges a bit and shows just enough to make me regret leaving the hotel room. God, you look beautiful. As we walk, our arms and fingers are intertwined. I feel your breasts up against my arm and it's making me a little short of breath. We arrive at the restaurant. We have a quiet place in the corner. We order, talk, and laugh. I love seeing you sip the wine. Not sure why that looks just so damn sexy. Your hair lingers over your left eye, and you keep flicking it back. I love your hair. It's never looked so beautiful. I watched you getting ready and couldn't take my eyes off of you. I'm glad it took you a while to do your hair. Yes, we laugh, a lot. We tease each other. I waffle between being clumsy with my words while you make fun of it, and stopping to tell you over and over how beautiful you are. I'm a bit insecure. I wonder what you see in me, but you see something. I try not to overcompensate with too much conversation to "impress" you, but I want to impress you. At one point, I'm going on about something when I feel your leg cross and rub up against mine. A dryness comes into my throat. I love the touch under the table. I reach down and gently touch your calf and up your leg as far as I can reach without leaning into my food. Whatever I was talking about is gone. We laugh and you give me that raised eyebrow... like you knew how easy it was to distract me. Then you smile.

I have a hundred questions. Tell me about your childhood, your favorite vacation, your first car, your first love, your hopes and dreams, your scars and fears. This is our first time to be in public. We had met on a dating website two months earlier. We found that we had so much in common that we had finally taken the risk to meet. We both had lowered our expectations, thinking this was too good to be true. But when we met, not only were our expectations met, but they were exceeded in so many ways. We had met only once, and had corresponded through email and chat ever since. We had shared our fantasies and our desires. The erotic nature of our relationship took center stage. We knew we had to meet for the full experience. But we also wanted it to be as special as possible. Hence, this night. In that moment in the restaurant, I realized how little I knew you and how much I wanted to know everything about you. So, we talked. And talked.

Dinner was incredible. After dinner, we lock hands again and head towards the theater. It's cold now, so we're holding each other even closer. You're wearing my jacket now, and I'm cold but don't feel it. I love seeing you with my jacket around your shoulders. We get to the theater and walk into the old foyer. We find our seats. Fourth row, but off to the side. Great seats. We're there to see Les Miserables. It's back in NYC for a brief return. It's my absolute favorite. I offered to sing the entire three hour musical to you, because I just about have it memorized. You're humoring me. Les Miserables? What the hell, you said. But over dinner, I told you what to listen for... the story of romance, conflict, crime, abandonment, forgiveness. It's an epic story, and you won't be able to help yourself. You'll love it, and besides, you're seeing it with me!

The lights come down and our arms intertwine again. It's dark suddenly. Before eyes adjust, we reach in and kiss lightly. It turns into something more just as the curtain rises. The music startles us in our seats, and we laugh. As we laugh, you reach your hand between my legs and stroke my thigh. It's not sexual. It's just intimate. As the music rises, you cover us with my jacket. I reach down and touch your legs. They feel so soft and amazing. It's all I can do not to run my hand under your dress, but I'm being good. The music, the color, and you. I've never felt more full of joy in my life.

At intermission, we walk to the back to get a glass of wine to share. We don't need a drink, really. It's just another sensory delight we want to take in on this evening. Sound. Taste. Touch. We'll experience it all. I walk proudly through theater with you on my arm. Many times I've walked in a public place and wondered, how did he get her? I can see the men around me thinking just that. How DID I get you, I wonder. The stars more than aligned to bring this night into being. We stand closely together in the crowded foyer, glad to have to press into one another. I pretend to whisper something in your ear, but I just wanted to nibble on it a little. You laugh and talk back to me to complete the public charade. Your hand reaches down and squeezes me gently. It's a sign of glories to come.

We make our way back down to the front. The seats are amazing. The sound overwhelms us, and the actors are so true to life. The lights lower again, and this time, my coat well covers us. When I reach down this time to touch your leg, I can't help myself. Right before the second act began, you whispered to me, "I'm wet and want you inside me." That was all it took for my sense of forceful passion to break through my gentlemanly demeanor. I put my hand under your dress and slid it up gently across your thigh. Your legs were crossed towards me, just the way I like, and my hand outlined the outside of your thigh. I stroked your leg again when I felt you uncross your legs. Your hand found mine and pulled me towards you. A gentle tug was all it took. I knew what to do. I reached down to touch your panties and feel your throbbing wetness through the lace. But as I felt, it was not lace I felt. I felt something much softer and much more inviting. I looked at you. You smiled. "I took them off at intermission" you whispered softly in my ear. I felt my cock begin to stir. I had chosen loose boxers, since I didn't want to be restrained in my usual boxer briefs. And my cock had already grown past the end of my boxers and were rubbing against the cotton edge of my pants. I needed you to touch me there. And you did. We cuddled closer, and as my fingers lightly touched your clit, I could feel your hands move over my cock. You stroked slowly and gently. It was incredibly sexy.

Eponine was singing, "A little fall of rain" - perhaps the saddest, most emotional piece in the musical. The girl on stage sang words to Marius, "Just hold me now, and let it be. Shelter me, comfort me." She loved him deeply, but his love was for another. For Cosette. Marius held Eponine, "You would live a hundred years, if I could show you how. I won't desert you now." But Eponine wouldn't live a hundred years. She would die from her wounds before he could finish his words. Eponine died in the arms of a man she could never have. We watched this scene unfold, enjoying each other's touch, and both seeing the pain of love unrequited. Several times in our brief relationship, we feared an abrupt ending, that the dreams we had for one another would not come to pass. These things were so uncertain. But not tonight. Unlike Eponine who never knew the love she longed for, we knew we'd experience it all, in each other arms. Tonight, our story would not be the story of Marius and Eponine, but Marius and Cosette... two lovers finally united after so much time. Our bodies were aching for more, but we knew the best was later to come. For now, we stroked each other gently... not enough to complete us, but enough to remind us of what was to come.

After the emotional grand finale, we stood and gave our applause. I reached around you and hugged you close to me, and you kissed my cheek as you clapped. What a lady. I was so proud to experience culture at its finest with a woman so delightful as you.

We walked out onto 46th street heading back up towards Times Square. This time, the cold air was stiff, and we snuggled closely as we walked, stepping in rhythm together as we made our way with the crowd. It was nearly midnight, but the square was as bright as day. The rush of traffic and the sounds of the city were intoxicating. We saw an upscale bar and chose to escape the cold. The bar was classic, hard wood everywhere, design in every detail. It was dark enough to provide exactly the romantic ambiance we hoped for, yet showered enough reddish light to accent your every curve. I took your hand and guided you up on the bar stool, the jacket around your shoulder. I took my seat next to you and was delighted to be so close. Our knees touched, and we warmed each other's hands. The cold had dried the moisture from our hands, so they were very sensitive to the touch. I stroked your palm as I studied your eyes. Your hair was dangling again in front of your left eye. I wanted to study them both, and reached to gently nudge your hair aside. Your deep brown eyes are stunning. I could see so many things in them. I had seen laughter in your eyes many times, sometimes seriousness, and sometimes that "I dare you to cross me" look that I really liked! I had seen passion in those eyes. Tonight, I saw wonder. I don't think we ever felt as "in the moment" as we were at that bar. We ordered drinks. You ordered a vodka martini and I a White Russian. Both had just the right affects. The alcohol made you tingle down below. For me, the White Russian offered the perfect after dinner coffee experience I was craving with the stinging delight of the vodka going down. I mentioned how alcohol had different effects on men than women. For women, it acted as a sexual stimulant. But for a man, there was always a risk of it depressing the sexual drive. But you said, almost loudly enough for the people next to us to hear, "Oh, don't you worry. Nothing's going to stop you from cumming all over me tonight. Besides, I need you to last a long time, baby."

Your sexy talk always went straight through my ears and into my cock. He was standing at full attention. You could tell, as I was bending forward hoping to feel some relief! Your hand on my leg wasn't helping. The way you moved your hands always had a tantalizing effect on me. And right now, my senses were at full throttle.

We practically ran to the hotel. First, because of the cold. But really, because of what awaited.

On the elevator, our animal-like passions began to grow. We were alone, and we took full advantage of it. The slow moving elevator gave us just enough time to touch each other in all the right places while we kissed hard. The elevator dinged as a man entered. He stood in front of us and faced the door as the elevator doors closed. I looked at you with desire. You smiled, backed away and slowly lifted your dress for me to see your perfectly smooth, sensuous flower. My eyes were wide, and you held back a big laugh. The man turned to see what we were laughing about as you immediately dropped your dress back down. I moved you closer and squeezed your ass so hard you jumped.

The door finally opened, and we headed to our room. I fumbled with the key card as you teased me, "Hurry. You're slowing us down!"

Finally the door opened, and we went inside. You grabbed me and pressed me back against the door. We kissed hard and you stroked my cock through my thin pants. I felt for your breasts and tried to work my hand inside the fold of your dress. I had to feel your bare breasts. It's all I could think about in that moment. But you backed away, told me to get undressed, and get on the bed. You'd be out in a minute.

As you entered the bathroom, I complied with your orders. I undressed down to my boxers and laid down on the bed. We specifically requested a room with two double beds. One for sleep, the other for sex. One for the clean, cold, cozy sheets, the other as a repository for all our juices. We would not worry about what the maid thought.

I turned down the lights, and left the dimmest light on in the corner of the room. I wanted intimate lighting and I wanted to see. When I climbed into bed, my dick instantly stuck out beneath the boxers. And I began to stroke it. I so wanted to go hard, but knew I'd ruin the moment. I just stroked softly so he'd grow harder and harder. Then I heard the door to the bathroom open. I quickly pulled my boxers down over my cock as best I could, and I waited.... anxiously.

"Are you ready?" you said.

"Yes." It's all I could muster.

"Are you sure?"

"God, Cindy, I'm sure!"

"Don't you get snappy with me! I'm in charge here. Understand!?"

"Yes ma'am"

Then your figure emerged from behind the corner. The sight before me made me reach for my cock again. I was hungry for you in an insatiable way. You were wearing a silky, form fitting, fire colored negligee. Red, maybe orange. I couldn't tell in the light. The spaghetti straps were rather loose, inviting my mind to pull on them. The front was tight, as if seamless cups were sown into the fabric, hoisting your breasts up for perfect display. The sexy silk continued down your torso, hugging tightly against you. Then the bottom flared out perfectly, ending just below the curve of your ass. My mind immediately imagined what was underneath. And that was the job of the negligee. To cause me to crave. And crave I did. I wanted it off fast. I almost hated it for what it was hiding. But I loved it all the same for the desire it was building in me. You came to the edge of the bed, and climbed in... slowly. You crawled towards me and stopped at my bulging shorts. You ran your hands carefully up my legs, slightly brushing my cock as you came to rest on my chest. You began to run your fingers through the hair on my chest. Each touch sent shockwaves of pleasure up into the rapidly firing synapses in my brain. I was not missing a moment.

You leaned in allowing me to peer into your amazing cleavage. One spaghetti strap began to fall to the side, but you pulled it back up. You grabbed my hands and pushed them up against the headboard. "Hold still and don't move," you said.

My attention was fully yours. You slowly slipped one nipple out of its cage and let me stare at its beauty. You lowered it onto the cheek of my face and around to my lips. When I reached for it with my mouth, you pulled away. "Nah ah" you said. "Not yet."

I closed my lips as you rubbed your nipple all over my lips and face. I felt your nipple growing harder until fully erect. You did the same with the other breast until you finally leaned back up, straddled over me, and you began to do the most sensual dance, grinding yourself into me, tilting your head back, and stroking your breasts. You were on display, and I was feasting on you. I started to reach for your breasts, almost instinctively, and you quickly slammed my hands back against the pillow behind me.

"Naughty boy," you said slowly with a shake of the head. "No touching!"

Oh, I wanted to touch you badly. But I obeyed. With both tits fully on display, you reached down with your tongue and began to lick each of them, one at a time, until it was clear you were fully erect. You leaned forward and surrounded my face with your tits.

"Suck my tit" you said. I leaped at the chance. But I paused - my turn to tease you a bit. As you lowered your breasts into my mouth, I kept it open wide enough to surround your nipple, but not fully take it in. I guided my tongue around in a big circle, teasing the edges. But you would have nothing of it.

"Suck it!" you said! You grabbed the back of my head and pulled me hard into your breast. I did not resist. I took your full breast into my mouth and sucked.

"Harder!"

And hardier I did.

"Harder, dammit." And I gave it everything I had as you began grinding my cock to the point of pain. Quickly, I was on to the other breast. I pulled it in completely too. I loved the taste, the smell, and the growing sweat on your breasts. I twirled each nipple in my mouth and you offered them each to me, one at a time.

You sat back up. You gave me a devilish grin, and then began to move down on me. As you slid backwards, you slowly... so slowly began to pull my boxers down. My erection was so hard that it was pressing hard against the band of the boxers. Finally, the band eased down far enough that my cock snapped back against me. He was almost in pain. Throbbing. You reached your lips towards him as I imagined you taking him in. But you stopped. You began stroking the base of my balls every so lightly. My balls responded by tensing up. Then, you began to blow tiny wisps of air softly on my cock... up and down. All over. He was as big as he's ever been. Aching with desire and need. Then you took the back of your hand and touched your fingernails to the top of my dick and ever so lightly began to slide your nail down the base of his shaft. I wanted to grab him and give him permission to explode. But I would not dare disobey. You returned to blowing until your lips finally touched him. You took the tip of my cock into your mouth, and though I could not see it, I could feel your tongue working around in a circle along the base of my tip. I hit my head back hard against the pillow. I would call it torture if it had not felt so amazing in every way. Slowly your mouth began to descend, little by little. Inch by inch until you were in full motion. It was sensuous as you moved up and down. Then at one point, you continued all the way down until your lips stopped at the base of my cock. He was completely in. You tilted your head back and your eyes met mine. You smiled with your eyes as your eyebrows rose. As if to say, "How do you like that?"

I answered out loud. "Oh god. I love it. Please... don't stop."

You moved up and down again, and I savored the sounds of your mouth gripping and regripping the suction around him. The sounds of oral sex penetrate me, far out-rivaling the sounds of the symphony. You were making music on my cock. And I loved the sound of the song. Your rhythms slowed, and finally you pulled away, with a big puckering sound snapping as you pulled away. My dick was red, was hot, and was in need of rest, lest he explode.

You stood. You stood over me and began slowly removing your fiery negligee. One strap, then another. You turned around so your ass would face me. You pulled up the nightie so I could see the black thong beneath. Then you pulled the negligee down until it landed across my cock. You stepped out of it and slowly, deliciously began to pull at your thong. You bent over and pulled the back of the thong to the side just quickly enough to give me a glance, and to set my taste buds on fire. My mouth was watering, and I swallowed hard. You moved up the bed and over my head. Then slowly, as if you had entered my brain and knew exactly what I wanted to see, you slowly let the thong fall to my face. With your back to the headboard, you bent down, knees spread, and you squatted down over me. You reached down between your legs to remove your thong from my face. I looked up and inches above me was a glorious site. I wanted to lunge forward, but you must have read my mind. You reached between my legs and gently slapped my face.

"Don't get any ideas... yet."

Then you looked down at your negligee resting across my cock and laughed at the sight. Like a tee pee, a silk hut had formed below. You bent over seductively to remove it. Then you moved back over my face, again with your back to the wall, and you lowered yourself on to me once again.

This time you went the full distance. "Give me your tongue," you said. "Just stick out your tongue, now!"

I did, as far as I could. And you began to lower yourself onto my tongue until I found your opening.