The Time in Brussels

"Ha!" and I crack up, bent over laughing. This time it's with her. We're cackling now, the two of us both. I throw the thong back at her.

When I settle, I avoid her question, What do I like? "What about if we get some wine and just talk for a little while."

She pouts. Uh oh. I've disappointed her somehow and start to feel some pressure. She must have seen it on my face because she suddenly cracks that fabulous smile. It's all about having fun tonight.

"Ok, but one condition." So stern.

"What's that?" I ask.

"You 'ave to be naked. We 'ave to talk naked on de bed, eh." She pats the bed.

"Deal." and I grin like an idiot. "Can I turn out some lights?"

"If it's wat you like, sure."

I turn away from her and go between the beds looking for switches. I spend a few seconds flicking this one, pushing that one, experimenting. I move around the bed to the small refrigerator to get the wine.

When I turn back to face her I am met with an image, one memorable image of this moment. There at the foot of the bed, she stands in front of me. Her weight is on one leg, the other leg idly to the side. Her leather skirt is lowered, ready to drop, held there at mid-thigh by one hand, relaxed. She has undone the leather vest and her shirt is lifted by her other hand as it cups her breast from below. I see her flat stomach, her hand and black shear lace.

Her pussy is in full view, pink bud sheltered in her inner lips, a resting butterfly. She is partly shaved, her pubic hair trimmed short, a small strip rising vertically from her sex. She is frozen in this pose for me and I indulge myself in it, staring, taking it in as if capturing the sight for a lifetime.

Her sweet smile is gone. I see her curved upper lip, the sneer, taunting me, ridiculing me, challenging. The image I see says that it is time, that it's about our bodies now.

I hesitate a moment, absorbing the heat from what I see.

"You 'aven't answered my question." I stare. "But I know, eh. You like...dis, eh. You like wat you see"

I hear my own voice. "Beautiful...beautiful...yes..." I'm frozen by what I see, the expression on her face. In seconds everything has changed. The comedy is gone and in its place I see only a sexual gauntlet. Challenging me, putting her body down on it, wagering that she is more than I. She drops the skirt to the floor and takes off the vest and shirt leaving on her bra. In a moment, I am naked too, my cock curved up to meet her.

We stand apart, facing each other beside the bed. She fetches a condom tucked into her bra and walks up to me. She switches to French. "You won't tell me what you like? Then you must ask me what I like."

She is smoothing the condom down my length. I am hers. She holds me in her two hands, capturing me, controlling me. I will do anything.

So I ask her, "Ce qui fait vous aimez? What do you like?"

Her eyes, suddenly there is something in her eyes, a depth, a seriousness. Then she answers me.

"I like the way it all shifts, how it starts with you on top and you're piercing me, fucking me, like you own me, like you've paid for me. But then it changes. A switch flips. Now you are not penetrating me. I am enveloping you, surrounding you. I have captured you, bound you with my pussy. You think you are fucking me but suddenly I own you because now you can't stop. I have you, I have your money and you're owned. You can't stop even if you tried because you've lost control. I have control. You've lost your thoughts, your mind. At that moment all you are is a body, fucking, fucking. Like a beast. Ok, fuck me even harder if you want because that's all you can do anyway. Nothing else. And it's because of me, my body, my pussy. You have no choice. And I watch you, hear you, I feel the force of your body bucking, fucking and it's mine, my pussy's, all mine. I can come if I want to because now it's my choice, whether to take your fucking or not."

Her fierce eyes reach to the back of my skull.

"That's what I like."

Our eyes are locked. She pulls me by my cock onto the bed, on top of her, guides me inside her, burning hot, wet. Her arms fall above her head, abandoned there.

My first thrust is hard, deep into her. Her whole body jostles roughly. Another hard thrust. Another. Another. I feel stronger than I have in years. Her eyes scoff at me with each thrust, another image captured for a lifetime. Fuck harder. As hard as you can. Harder. Her wordless challenge to me. Fuck me. Come on, fuck me...

Arousal swells like a slow ocean wave beneath me. I feel its massive power, heaving me upward, higher, higher. I gasp and thrust hard. Her eyes glaze before me. She groans, arches her back and reaches for my hips. I fuck, fuck, fuck...