Meet Me in DC Pt. 02

The late afternoon light fills my room, making it impossible to sleep. I need water. I need an aspirin. I still need more of him.

My body aches from last night. I have bite marks on my neck, chest, and inner thighs. My ass is sore and I'm raw from fingering myself until I finally came the way he requested: squirting while he was relentlessly trying to split me in two.

The rest of the night will be forever burned into my memory, but he will be here soon, and tonight, tonight I have plans for him.

Whenever you get a chance to upgrade your hotel room, I suggest you do. The views of the city are incredible. The windows take me right back to the club last night and my stomach clenches, reliving the eyes, hands, and tongues that joined us and added to the intense mix of pain and utter rapture of finally getting to touch him. And be touched by him.

I want to lay here in the cool pink, afternoon light and play with myself until I'm exhausted, remembering every detail of how he feels. But there's no time. I need to get ready and get the room ready for tonight.

Out of the shower, hair done up in a French twist, I pull a short black slip over me and go to the closet. I run my fingers over the fabric options in my attire: leather, silk, and linen. Which will set the right tone to start the night? I choose the black leather pants and a sheer black silk blouse. I sit and slide on my open-toed heels, knowing he'll notice the red polish. I stand, make final adjustments to my outfit, and last, apply my red lipstick. Yes, this is the right look.

The room smells of the rich floral fragrance of my perfume, feminine and still delicate. Tonight will be a nice contrast with that. He will be here soon and I feel powerful, magnetic.

I hear a knock at the door. It's not as confident as I expected. He's uncertain. Well as uncertain you can communicate from a knock, I suppose.

I want to open the door and find that he pushes me against the wall. Hungry lips, hands, and bodies finding and pulling into one another. But no, I have a plan.

I unlock the door and step back into the room, out of reach. After several moments he opens the door slowly and I say, "Come in..."

I punctuate it with his name, my voice low and sure. He smirks and asks how I'm feeling. I ignore him and motion for him to go to the leather loveseat across from me.

"I'm pouring us drinks," I announce. And make my way across the room to the bar tucked in the corner. With my back to him, I glance at him through the reflection, and smiling ask, "How many fingers would you like?"

I've always loved when someone would order "two fingers" when I was bartending my way through college. A crafting a good cocktail can be just like crafting a good evening: ice, liquids to the tongue and lubricate, exotic tastes to discover in endless combinations. Oh, and don't forget the presentation. Garnishes can be so underrated but can transform the simple into the unforgettable. My eyes catch his and he smirks, "Better make it three," he replies.

I smile, and turn to bring him his drink, looking into his eyes, "Yes, Sir."

I hand him his drink and walk to the chair angled across from him and lean against it, unhurriedly sipping my cocktail. I love the feel of ice touching my lips and the cool liquid stings and burns so good, as it passes over my tongue, down my throat.

I set my drink down after one more healthy sip, and walk over to him, grabbing his drink while I kiss him, passing the liquid from my mouth to his, letting our tongues find each other in the process. I hear and feel him moan into my mouth. I love that sound. I don't think I could ever grow tired of it. But we don't have the luxury of years passing and taking each other for granted. We have what's left of this whirlwind weekend.

I slowly pull my lips away, coaxing his mouth to follow while I finally stand up and grab his hand and lead him to the master suite.

A few candles are lit by the end table closest to the wall of windows. The mirror behind me bounces the lights throughout the room and it feels like we are floating among stars.

I put the drink down on the table nearest the mirror and take a step towards him, watching him, with his back to me, taking in the view. I run my hands up his back and across his shoulders. I pull his jacket off and walk it over to the chair, near his drink.

"Turn around, " I tell him.

He does. I walk back over to him and loosen his tie while teasing his mouth; going in for a kiss, but not letting him get one. He grabs my arms and pulls me into him, passionately kissing me. I place one hand on his chest and stop him. I untie his tie. And wrap it around my neck. Running my hand over his chest again the down to his stomach, dragging my fingers over his white dress shirt, I begin to circle behind him.

Behind him, I command, "Your hands, Sir." He gives me his hands and I take his tie draped over my neck and begin to bind his wrists.

Wrists bound I circle back until I'm facing him again. I begin to unbutton his dress shirt. I take my time, not breaking eye contact. Shirt open I undo his belt, unbutton his pants and get on my knees to unzip him. With my teeth.

His heavy erection pushing out as the zipper releases him. His leaking cock already soaking his boxers. I lightly run my mouth over his boxers, so he can feel my hot breath so close to him.

"Kiss it," he says. I look up at him and smile, rubbing my face, my cheeks over him. And then I stand. I strip off his pants and then his boxers. I walk over and grab his drink and turn to take in the view. This strong powerful man, bound and half-naked, waiting to see what comes next. I sip his drink, taking ice into my mouth, and walk over to him. I tilt the rim of the tumbler to his lips and let him take as much as he wants. He's going to need to be relaxed.

I lick his nipples, the ice tightening up his skin, and he lets out a breath he was holding as his head drops back and his cock presses into my leather pants. I kiss my way down his chest and at the moment I know he's expecting me to get on my knees again I turn away to return his drink to the side table and move the sitting bench at the end of the bed behind him, right in front of him.

I ask him to move so he faces out the window and so he can still make out his reflection in the mirror, now to his left. I unbind his wrists and take his shirt off, letting it drop to the floor.

"On your knees. Hug the bench," I command.

He smirks, giving me the impression that he thinks it's cute that I want to take charge. I try to smile as doe-eyed and innocent as I can. I don't want my face to accidentally reveal what I have planned for him.

I use his tie to secure him to the bench. He can buck and squirm, but he can't fully get up and free. Perfect. Naked and exposed I place my hand on his lower back and lean down and whisper, "You. Are. Mine."

I kiss his lips softly and keep a hand on him until I'm out of reach and making my way to the other room. As I grab the candles I plan to use on him, I watch him react to seeing himself in the mirror- a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

He's so beautiful like this, vulnerable and trusting. So, completely, mine. I go back into the room and place the candles in front of his face on the bench. I sit at the very end, without saying a word or looking at him, slide off my shoes. I stand to peel off my pants, bending with my ass right in front of his face but still not able to touch it. I remove my silk slip and let it fall to the floor. All that's left is my red lace thong. I slide my heels back on and as I lift, my breasts graze his face as I reach for the candlesticks and walk to the ones already glowing by the window.

I light each of the two wicks and walk back over to him. "I want you to be so still. And so very quiet. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," he says in a husky voice.

"Mmmmmm. You make me so happy," I whisper in his ear, and run my lips over his, teasing him again.

"Please kiss me," he says.

"Shhhhhh..."

I walk alongside him, my heels clicking on the floor and the wax is ready to roll off the stem. I tilt it and let a stream fall onto the skin concerning his shoulder blades. He cries out in surprise and I remind him he said he'd be so quiet. I trail more wax between his shoulders down to the top of his ass. I hold both candles in one hand and spank his ass with the other. He stifles a groan. God, those noises he makes will be my undoing.

I let more drops fall over his back and again he asks for a kiss. I walk in front of him and crouch down to his face and blow the candles out so he can see me.

"I thought you were going to be quiet," I tease. "What are we going to do if you can be quiet now? We haven't even started?"

I place the candles in front of him and I stand grabbing my thong and behind over completely and I slide it off my body. The mirror lets him see everything, including the bite marks and handprints he left on me last night. He groans again, and I know his throbbing cock is leaking all over himself, the floor the furniture.

As I stand back up, I place my hand back on his back and take my panties, and put them into his mouth.

"Shhhh," I remind him.

I run my hands through his hair and whisper his name into his ear reminding him, "You. Are. Mine."

I run both hands over his body, changing my pressure, using my nails to lightly rake and pinch. And make my way to the stand drawer a few feet behind him. I grab what I need from it and turn away from him so he can't see what I have.

I get on my knees behind him and reach under him and stroke him. His muffled groans vibrate through his whole body and I know I'm now dripping wet. I crawl over to him. He watches close in the mirror. I remove my panties from his mouth with my teeth and spit them out on the floor. I put my fingers, wet with his pre-cum in his mouth, and start kissing him, fighting to taste him and feel his kiss all at once. I stand and graze my fingers back down his back, sending shivers up his spine. I get back to my knees and spread his ass apart so I can see everything. Ever secret place he has.

I nibble on his checks and make my way to his entrance kissing and tasting his skin until my tongue is finally on him. And I begin to lick and push and prod with my tongue and reach down to play with his balls, pulling just a bit. His breathing is heavy and erratic. And the sounds he's making are so delicious.

I stop tonguing his ass and reach for the bottle of lube I've placed on the bed. I open some and drip more on his ass. I want him messy. I close the bottle and throw it back to the bed. My focus now circling his ass with a finger. I know he's wet enough to push my way in, wetter than he had me when he pushed into me last night. But I want to take my time. So I circle and tease and finally when he's almost whimpering as he pushes back into me, I finally give him what he's wanting and push my finger into him. There's nothing like that feeling of his body almost sucking my finger. I pull back and push in again and before he's able to relax from the pressure, I push in a second finger.

He gasps and I put my hand on his back, helping his body calm down. I move in slow strokes so that I know he can feel every push in and pull out.

I whisper, "Thank you, Sir. You make me feel so good. You look so good. You taste so good."

He groans again, trying to rock back into me, trying to get me to move faster. And before I do, say, "Remind me, how many fingers did you say you wanted tonight?"

He is thinking and he stiffens when he remembers what he told me when I was making his drink. And right when the words are on the tip of his tongue, I put a third finger into him. His guttural cry out is so good. But we are just getting started. I hush him softly as I rub his back and legs with my free hand and continue to prob and stretch him with my other.

He's needing to cum. He's needing relief and he is all man. And all animal. And I'm not done with him yet. I pull my fingers out and stand. Going over to the bed, he begins asking what I'm doing. But I know he can see. I can see. I can see myself in the window's reflection. And in the mirror's. Before he's able to ask what I'm doing again, I'm on him, the tip of my strap-on pushed against him.

Fingers are one thing. This, having something this size is entirely different. I swirl the tip around him. I push it up between his butt cheeks. I make sure I take advantage of all the lube and sweat on his body and then, one hand on his back and one hand holding my cock, I begin to push into him. I pull back, but not completely out, then as he relaxes and exhales I push every single inch into him and take my hand off his back and wrap my arm around him pulling him back into me.

I could tell him again he's mine, but him watching us in the mirror, already tells me he knows he is. So I tell him, "You are going to cum just like this, with me deep inside you, splitting you in two, and my other hand stroking you painfully slow. But you can't cum until I do. And when you cum, I want my name on your lips, understand?"

His breath is ragged and I'm searching for the place in him that I know will push him over the edge. And I'm searching for the pressure and pace that will have us coming together. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," he manages.

"Thank you, Sir," I tell him and the night finally begins.