Stairwell Secret

I didn't intend it, but when I walked into H's flat one summer day after months of anticipating our next meeting, he looked me up and down and said: "You look like you've come here to get fucked."

Our friend Y was in his bathroom fixing her makeup, and when she walked out she remarked that I was blushing. We went to a music festival down the street, and we would return for dinner at his in a couple hours.

Months before we had kissed - long, violent kisses for hours on his sofa. Kisses I'd cum about hundreds of times before I saw him again. The way his hands crept below my bra, the electric shock of his fingers squeezing my nipples. The way he said, "I knew when we met you'd like a little pain."

I had left when he said, "I want to make you cum so badly." because it had gone on for too long. And I walked home, wet beyond belief, dreaming of how he could fuck me.

But, I was with someone else. I couldn't do it. Could I? I told him it had to stop. He said ok, we could be just friends. He's use every opportunity to tell me about the other women from that point on.

There was S. "We have slow romantic sex, her and I. But she doesn't excite me."

There was M: "Her clit is unreal. Soft and tight, makes me want to cum as soon as I enter her... I could love her."

There was a redhead he didn't bother to name, but sent me a photo of her once tied up in ropes. "I fucked her ass harder than I have ever fucked anyone's ass."

Jealousy is a complex emotion. I was in agony, but I came over and over thinking about him and these women.

When the day came and I knew I was going to see him I wore a loose flimsy short summer dress, and when I left the house I could see my hard nipples through the thin material.

When we returned to the house H had a three course dinner prepared - each was accompanied with a different alcohol. In the first, we consumed a bottle of sparkling wine, in the next a bottle of sparkling wine. Then H made us Manhattans and finally a shot of mezcal. As he poured the drink, I watched the veins on his arms and ached. I didn't want to say goodbye. Not yet.

The three of us sat on his couch and he lit a cigarette. And I watched him smoke, my head spinning, I uncrossed my legs and crossed them again. I saw his eyes look me up and down. I could feel my wetness trickle out of my pussy when he did that. Y was prattling on, and had no idea.

I closed my eyes for a second and felt the world whirl around me. I had to leave, I said.

"Are you okay?" Y said.

"I need to go," I managed to get up. Felt for the wall as I put my sandals on.

Y gave me a big hug. I had a flight the next morning. H said he would walk me down.

He shut the door, leaving Y inside his flat. And for the first time we were alone looking down at the staircase and lead to his front door entrance.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"Nothing," I said.

We walked down, and even then I was aware of how hard my nipples were. They grazed against my bra, and my clit ached to be touched.

We were by the exit now. He said: "Then why can't you look at me."

I think I had opened the door to leave. And when he said that, it was the first time Iooked at him. I looked at him for a while.

I don't know what happened in that moment. It felt as though I had closed my eyes and woken up to a different universe in which I was against the wall we were kissing violently. His tongue dominating mine.

I bit his mouth, dug my nails deep into his skin.

I thought he had closed the door. Or me. I don't know. I don't remember how it started.

I felt his fingers enter me. "You're so fucking soaked." I moaned, and looked up, knowing Y was still in the flat just a few meters away.

It felt so good I couldn't stop.

I felt for his hard cock through his jeans, and stroked it with my hand.

"Put it in your mouth."

"No..." I said.

"Do it." He looked stern, now. And I was scared.

I remember feeling my back slide against the wall as I got on my knees, unzipped him and felt the taste of his hard cock down my throat for the first time. I swallowed it immediately and felt it throb against the back of my throat. I looked up at him, his head tilted back and his mouth open in ecstasy. I wanted more of it.

I pulled myself up.

"You're so fucking good at that," he said.

And then he started kissing me passionately.

"You're so amazing, you're so amazing... Don't go... Come back in a few minutes. I'll tell Y to leave. Don't go, you have to come back."

"I can't," I said.

He yanked my hair back.

"You have to come back."

"No"

He yanked harder.

"Do it here," i said. I pulled my underwear down.

I felt the second he spent considering what to do next. Silently, his hands turned me around, and he lifted my dress. I was soaked when he entered me.

I couldn't suppress my moans while he fucked me, it felt so good. His hands tightened around my waist and he started pounding me harder and harder. I felt his hands collect my loose curls and pull them back the harder he fucked me.

He came quickly.

He turned me around and kissed me.

"Lick it clean," he told me.

I obeyed. Got on my knees again, tasted his cum and licked every last bit of it.

He kissed me again. Told me to come back. Not to leave.

"I need to fuck you all night," he said.

But I knew I had to leave. I pulled my underwear up, and opened the door and left. Walked home in a daze of reverie. I felt his cum gush out of my cunt, the taste of him in my mouth like a sweet secret.

The next day, he called me at the airport.

"Did you tell Y?" I asked.

"Well, I kind of had to. My lip was bleeding badly, the skin around my neck was scratched up, and my shirt was torn."

Before I hung up, he said. "I knew, I just knew, when we met, I knew you'd be a good slut one day."