Nothing But the Heels

To the reader: This is my first venture into creative erotic writing. This story was originally commissioned by an on-line friend of mine, and my gratitude goes out to her for providing the inspiration and encouragement. Part of her challenge for me was to write the story from the woman's point of view - my friend was happy with the end results, and I hope the female Literotica readers agree...

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The time and date had been set a few days earlier. Now, on the day of the meeting, you are wondering if this was what you really want. Hooking up with a complete stranger is not totally out of character for you, but not really someone whom you've gotten to know pretty well as a paerson by e-mail and text first. Buy hey, what do you have to loose, and more importantly, what do you stand to gain.

Preparations for the evening begin; the hot, soapy bath washes away any lingering doubts, paving the way for the excitement that has been building for months. You dress with care, choosing lingerie that you know will emphasize your chest and soft curves. After some hesitation, you decide not to put on the stockings even though you know he loves that – after all, no point in giving in to all of his cravings the first time...

You pause as the unknown races through your mind. Who is the mystical online interest that one day out of nowhere wrote you a story? You know so little, yet so much. You have extensively explored your sexual desires, fantasies and experiences. You know his favorite positions, his intimate fantasies, and he told you the details about his one-night stand in a hotel room with a French woman, that was allegedly the best sex he ever had. But you know little about the man, the person, behind the sexually charged on-line persona.

Whatever happens happens, you think to yourself. Curiosity and desire has driven you to this point, and you can no longer control the tingling excitement in your stomach and below.

You quicken your pace as you realize time is slipping away. You rush through your closet, having known for weeks the outfit to wear – the one that would leave a lasting, wanting-more impression. A thin blouse, through which the lace underneath shines through in the right angles, and a black skirt that nicely outlines the curves of your hips. His love for legs and shapely butts having been clearly established early on, you dress to emphasize, to impress and to succeed. Finally, as the coup de grace, the four inch heels, which, if real world meets fantasy, will be the only thing you are still wearing in few hours from now.

You take a final look in the mirror – good enough to eat, you confirm. You smile to yourself...hopefully he will agree and sample the offerings. Ready or not, this is it!

You have decided on a restaurant downtown in the business district, known for its impressive cuisine and low-lit intimate and quiet atmosphere. He is already waiting by the door, a big smile on his face that is not quite able to cover his nervousness. "Hello stranger" he says. "Ready for this?" "Let's do it" you say "though I may not be as great a conversationalist in person." "Don't worry," he replied, if all else fails, we can just sit here and sext each other across the table." You involuntary blush, remembering some of the steaming exchanges that have taken place through your smart phone, courtesy of AT&T.

He reaches for the door, and as you pass by he puts his hand in the small of your back gently guiding you inside. The hand doesn't move as you give your names to the Maître'd and are escorted to the table. You smile, as you feel no longer in control of the night; a steady hand is now guiding you towards its inevitable conclusion.

You are seated at a U-shaped booth rather than at a table, and after some debate you rearrange the table setting so that you can sit beside each other, backs towards the wall, facing the dining room. Drinks come in – champagne to celebrate and set the stage for the rest of the evening. Later, an expensive bottle red wine will be ordered, which by now you know to be his favorite aphrodisiac, his open-shelled oysters or liquid Viagra.

Starters come in, and the wine and conversation flows. You are moving closer together, not only because the conversation is unsuitable for some of the restaurant's younger patrons, but after months of electronic interaction, the human touch is desired, almost craved. You knees touch under the table, and have for a while. Elbows occasionally brush as the starters are finished off.

The server clears the table for the main course, and you sit back. He turns towards you, and he moves his hand until his finger tips come to rest on your forearm. You feel the little hairs on your arms rising straight up. He moves his hand down, pausing for a moment to grip your fingers that are rested on the seat, but then continuing to move underneath the table cloth to softly touch your thigh. He looks in your eyes for confirmation, and finding only passion his hand moves down to where the skirt ends just above the knee. His finger tips move in small soft circles on the inside of your thighs, your head spins and you have no idea how you are going to make it through another two courses....

You are mercifully rescued by the waiter who brings the main dishes to the table. His hand reluctantly moves back, but not before a gentle squeeze has reassured you that it will be back, more insistent and more purposeful. You excuse yourself after finishing the main course, retreating to the relative sanctuary of the lady's room. You look in the mirror and realize this is your last chance to escape, but the urge burning inside you belies any thought that you may want to do so now.

Upon returning to the table, the desserts have already arrived, leaving you feel relieved that the tension is almost over, yet twice as tense because it is. The whipped cream provides a humorous diversion, as both of you recall one of his stories of a 1,200 calorie sexual endeavor involving champagne, chocolate and plenty of whipped cream. The restaurant crowd has thinned out, and it is only with a slight hesitation that you accept his offering of whipped cream on his finger, slowly taking it into your mouth and making sure no cream is left behind.

Payment is swiftly taken care of, and you hurry along the street towards the hotel where he was going to reserve a room. He has already checked in, so you proceed past the reception to the bank of elevators. Unfortunately, you are joined by an older couple, so the planned elevator make-out session must be replaced by an acceptable alternative. Standing in the back of the elevator, he moves his hand from the small of your back exploring further down, and from the expression on his face he is approving what lies below.

Stepping out of the elevator, he laughs as he for a moment cannot remember the room number. He fumbles with the key card before getting it into the slot – but an embarrassed smile promises that he won't have any further insertion problems tonight. He opens the door and let you in – only a single lamp is lit in the bedroom, the curtains are drawn and the hallway is in semi darkness. You drop your hand bag to the floor as you feel him close by – you turn and your mouths meet in a forceful, almost violent kiss.

He presses you up against the wall, and you feel his erection through his pants. He moves his hand on your thigh, between your legs, to feel the warmth and wetness that has been building for the past few hours. He disengages the kiss, and asks if you want to stop. "Fuck me" you say, and he complies.

He pulls you over to the bed and pushes you down. His hand reaches inside your skirt, and in a swift movement he pulls the panties off. Your skirt is hiked up to your waist, and before you can catch your breath you feel his tongue on your pussy, seeking to explore the wetness inside before moving up to the sensitive spot. He uses his fingers to expose the clitoris, and after a while the licking turns into sucking as he takes the swollen clit into his mouth and let the tip of the tongue play its game.

With a strong hand he is holding your leg to the side, and with the other he has two fingers playing inside you, first slowly and then with a rapidly increasing pace. Too much tension has been building up inside you, and you scream out as the waves of ecstasy shoot though your whole body. He laughs as you try to move away from his relentless tongue, that keeps teasing the over-sensitized clit.

You finally break free, and he joins you in a deep kiss that tastes like pure and utter lust. "Know what I like" he asks, and you do, being fully informed of his penchant for oral sex. You quickly unbutton his pants and let them fall to the floor with his underwear. He is already hard, the head of his cock swollen and glistening in the low light. As he steps out of his pants, he grabs your hair at the back of your neck and firmly guides you down. Eagerly, you take him into you mouth and start sucking – you promised him you were good at it, and now its time to prove it.

You look up at him, and see him stare at you with pure lust and ecstasy. He is pushing your head deeper and deeper and increasing the pace, and you are taking more and more of him. You feel the sweet taste of pre cum, and you know exactly what he would like right now. But the night is too early; you are not going to give it to him, at least not yet. You break free and sit up on the bed, unbuttoning your blouse. Your chest makes quite a first impression, and as the blouse joins the pants on the floor, he is slowly stroking himself as he watches you remove the bra. You finally unhook the skirt, fulfilling the promise you made so many hours ago of wearing nothing by the 4 inch heels.

He sits down to pay some attention to the recently liberated twins. You are slowly stroking him as his mouth explores each nipple in turn; his hand finding its way back to the wetness below. He pushes you down on your back and raises your legs on your shoulders. He looks into your eyes while slowly entering you, and you feel the sensation you've been looking forward to for months. He increases the pace, entering you harder and harder as he pushes you down into the bed.

You are unable to concentrate on anything but the pleasure as he is fucking you harder and harder, one hand pushing you down onto the bed. He leans forward to take your nipples into his mouth, as the pace slows down. He looks into our eyes and smiles, and you know what he wants to see next. He disengages, and you turn around on all fours, ass up in the air, lower back curved to give the best view...and access. He leans forward and presses his face against your buttocks. His tongue again plays over the clit and through the wet and swollen crevice, before moving up and massaging your asshole with a delicate touch.

He positions himself and thrusts himself into you from behind. His hips are moving with a furious pace, and slams against your buttocks every time he enters you. You lower your head to the pillow, but he reaches out and grabs your hair, pulling you back towards him. "Harder" you say as he uses the handful of hair to pull you into each thrust. "Fuck me harder." He complies, putting all of his energy into each deep thrust.

He pulls out, and with a mischievous grin moves to the nightstand. Whatever his going for, you think, it better not be the copy of Gideon's Bible. Not quite. He has removed the belts from the hotel room robes, and indicates that it's time to take this game to a whole new level. This has been a fantasy you've shared many times, so on one level you are not surprised, yet you feel somewhat apprehensive given the circumstances. But by now lust easily pushes all caution aside. He is unable to hide his grin as he ties both your arms to the headboard of the bed. He does not tighten the knots hard, but you cannot get out without assistance.

You shiver with anticipation as he covers your eyes with your silk blouse. He begins to touch you, letting his fingers, lips and tongue brush over your body, the light touch a stark contrast to the hard thrusting a moment before. You twist in your bonds as the touch turns from ticking to teasing to renewed desire. He moves down until he is again positioned between your legs. He lifts one calf up on each shoulder and enters you again, slowly, deeply and then with increased pace.

Your arms pull against the restraints; you senses of sight and smell being eliminated you are unable so feel anything except his cock thrusting inside you and his heavy breathing as he thrusts harder and harder into you. The feeling is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. For some reason, the restraints make you unable to control your pleasure, and you feel the unstoppable force of the next orgasm building up. You want to tell him to slow down, pull out, prolong the pleasure. But the only sound you make is the scream as a powerful orgasm starts in your groin and travels throughout your body.

He slows down his pace, and removes the blouse from your face. You can tell that he is wildly excited and close to the edge himself. He pulls out, and moves up to straddle your chest. He puts his cock between your breasts and start undulating, one breast cupped in each hand, squeezing tight together. You watch the tip of his cock coming out and you lean forward to put your tongue and lips on the head. He unties you, and you know he wants you to help him, to finish him off. You grab his cock with your hand and start jerking, then lean forward and take him in your mouth.

You can taste your juices on his cock, followed by the saltiness of his pre cum. His breathing increases and he tells you he is about to cum. You jerk him with one hand, aiming the tip of his cock towards your open mouth. With a big sigh he shoots load after load into your mouth and onto your chin and chest. You can tell he's been saving up, and he is not holding anything back.

He falls to the side, collapsing entirely devoid of energy and everything else. You are both panting from exhaustion, yet you feel strangely excited about how this may turn into the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

"Time for a nightcap?" he asks and sits up.

"Are you kidding?" you say, "I will not be able to move until early next week!"

"That's too bad" he replies, "because I have a couple of friends I would really like for us to get together with tomorrow."