Pandemic Quickie

He was zipping in and out of traffic at better than the speed limit when the phone attached to his dash buzzed and the screen lit up with a message that he had a text. While it could have been anyone, he was nearly sure he knew who it was. Easing off the gas a bit he shifted his red coupe to the slow lane and determined that he had space to safely glance at his phone. A quick touch of his thumb unlocked it to reveal his conversation with her.

Yes! He had been right. The message was short and surprised him as much as it excited him.

"Now, sir? Please, sir." That was all she said and all it took to send his blood rushing south.

He glanced at the clock on the dash. He had a meeting he had to be back in his home office for. It was his meeting and he had to be on camera for it but he also had a bit of time to spare and he had to drive nearly right by the location in question.

Quickly calculating the time to her apartment, he once again checked the traffic around him before typing in a short reply.

"5 min ma'am"

Settling back in his set, he turned the music up and eased into the accelerator again. Two exits later he dropped down the off-ramp, hitting the light just right to breeze straight through, made a U-turn under the freeway at the next light and popped into the entrance of her complex. The gate was open meaning she would have no more warning than his short text a few minutes before.

He grinned. Would she be ready?

It was the middle of the afternoon and finding a parking space proved easier than any other time he had been here. Exiting the car and pulling on his face mask, he popped the trunk with a smirk. He had a surprise for her, one they had discussed before but never in this scenario. He unzipped the bag he kept in the trunk and removed the surprise. Closing the trunk, he tucked one end in his back pocket with his phone so it wouldn't be obvious to anyone happening to look out a window and started for her door.

The moment of truth...would it be unlocked? What would he find on the other side?

The knob turned! He pushed the door all the way open and was greeted with perhaps the most erotic sight of his life which was saying something.

Damn!

Her apartment was on the second floor but her entrance was ground level and opened onto a small, first-floor foyer with a staircase up to her living space. She stood on the bottom step with her back to him, legs spread so the sides with her socked feet pressed up to the walls to the sides of the stairs. She was bent over at the waist, her weight held by her arms which rested on one of the steps in front of her.

And she was naked.

Well, but for the socks. He would discuss those with her later. No time now to deal with that impertinence but he said naked he meant naked, damn it!

Time! Glancing at his watch to make sure he was still good, he stepped into the entryway. A wicked thought occurred to him and, rather than close the door, he pushed it open as far as it would go. He could see her head was hanging down so she could look under her torso, between her legs to see the doorway.

When she realized what he intended she gasped and started to speak.

"Sir, please..."

His arm whipped out, the knuckles on the back of his hand making sharp contact with the crease between ass cheek and thigh before she could get out more than a couple of words. The distance and his timing had been near perfect. He had kept his hand lax and pulled the blow at just the right moment to whip his hard knuckles in a sharp, stinging manner rather than just the blunt impact of a slap.

With another gasp, she got the message. There was to be no talking. No questions.

And the door would be closed when and only if he chose. Not before.

He took a second to study her beauty, yet again surprised she would give him the time of day, much less want him. Her skin was pale and flawless, her ass firm and round. She had tattoos on either cheek. Both were placed high and outside - like balls delivered late in a game by an over-tired pitcher. He loved them dearly. She had left her long dark hair naturally curly and it currently hung loose, obscuring her face while pooling on the step right beneath her.

Between her legs, her pussy glistened with moisture from recent attention. No, he corrected himself. Not a pussy today. A cunt. Pussy was too polite for today's activity. Her lips were red and swollen under the hair that she kept neatly trimmed. Someone had been playing already today.

On impulse, he pulled out his phone and took a photo of the amazingly explicit tableau before him. He needed to remember this.

His cock had been stirring since her last text message but now, like a wild animal caught in a trap, it strained to be free of his jeans. He refused it for now though. That would come in a minute, after the surprise.

Reaching behind him, he slipped his phone back in his pocket and pulled out the other item placed there. Quickly, he took a swing through the air just above her ass. She needed to know what was coming, at least to a degree. The crop made unmistakable humming and hissing noises as it moved through the air over her body and he was certain she could feel the breeze of its passage.

Her head snapped up and she let out a low guttural moan of need. There wasn't time to do this completely right but he could give her a little something to tide her over.

The next stroke made precise but hard contact with her ass. Again, pulling it just as it made contact to deliver a sharp sting with the broad leather loop on the end. No time for any warmup, not that she wanted or needed it. Now the other cheek. And back to the first. The second. Working methodically but quickly. Each delivery leaving behind an angry red square on her pale flesh.

On impulse, he switched without warning to an underhand stroke connecting high on her slick inner thigh. Then the other. Up and down the muscular part of her inner legs. She made sounds of pleasure-filled pain the whole time but never once a complaint. In fact, she appeared to be leaning back into the abuse, her body language begging for more.

Again, glancing at his watch, he reached for his belt. He was out of time for foreplay.

Sadly.

Laying the crop across her back, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans then pushed everything down to finally allow his cock some air. It spang straight out like a rapier drawn in anger and he pointed directly at her now dripping snatch. Grabbing it by the base, he first used it as a club to slap her clit a couple of times eliciting from her a sharp intake of air followed by a needy whimper. Then he drug the head up and down her wet cunt before pushing it in past her slick folds.

It wasn't a rapid thrust so much as an unstoppable one. He was going all the way, right now, and while he didn't want to hurt her, he also didn't want her to be completely comfortable with it either. This wasn't a time for niceties. This was a time to fuck.

When his balls made contact with her clit, he immediately withdrew nearly the full length and slammed his hard rod immediately back into her. This time it was hard and fast, and the way he meant to deliver rest. Grabbing her hips with his hands, he set to work with strokes that bordered on violence but were what he knew she wanted. Needed.

What he wanted and needed.

After the anticipation, the buildup, and all the frustration of months separated by the pandemic, he didn't think it would take her long and it didn't. He could feel her orgasm coming through his hands and in the way her cunt gripped his cock. It was going to be a serious one. He started increasing the speed and force. Driving her home.

It happened in an instant. Her head thrown back, body stiffening against his, she let out a guttural scream that he was certain could be heard across the parking lot through the wide-open door.

Still, he pounded her until he felt her body go slack and start to shake with the aftershocks. After all, who knew when they would see each other again?

He pulled out, unfinished and unfulfilled but out of time, as her limp body sagged down onto the stairs in front of him. Quickly he straightened his clothes, collected the crop, and walked out without closing the door. He walked across the lot to his car, unspent energy and need causing him to slap the crop against his leg, refusing to look back.

He didn't want her to see his tears. His need to stay with her. Snuggle with her. Talk to her. He didn't trust himself to leave if she was standing there, visible at the door.

Exciting the complex was a blur, leaving no memory. All that remained was the memory of her, what they did, and what he had to leave behind.

His phone buzzed as his car hit the freeway and he quickly thumbed the screen lock to bring up the message.

"Thank you, sir. May I have another? Soon."