Reunion. 1

They had both vowed that they wouldn't do this again; they were going to meet for a drink, that was all. A quiet drink to catch up on the last few years. A simple drink, after all they had always done that before. They were going to meet up and have a drink – that's what they both told themselves. But they were consummate fantasists after all – and they both knew that this was just another fantasy.

He knew the moment she appeared wearing a skirt and a tight white t shirt, outlining her soft firm breasts in cotton, rather than wearing her usual jeans and jacket. She knew because after years of practice she could see the shape of his jeans and knew he was wearing nothing beneath. Clothes and how they wore them was always so important to them both. She gulped and strode forwards, her lips already swollen and the urge to kiss him deeply barely concealed. She could feel the hardness of her nipples against the soft material of the t shirt and knew he'd noticed. However he kissed her formally, politely and went to the bar to get her a drink – she'd decided already that it would have to be a large red wine, something to calm things down. Perhaps? They sat opposite sides of the table but each move seemed to have a hidden double meaning, they talked trivia and pleasantries and before she knew it they had both finished their drinks and she stood up, her boots clicking against the concrete as she asked him what he wanted. The pause she left was significant. He swallowed and ordered another wine.

As she stood at the bar she was aware of the looks of a few of the other customers, perhaps it was written all over her face, perhaps it was just her paranoia. Whilst she waited for the bored barmaid to pour the wine she felt his breath at her shoulder, not touching her, almost not touching her, she could feel the heat of his body – or was it the reflected heat of her own? He seemed unsure about moving forwards so she took the smallest of steps in reverse and felt his body impact with hers; she smiled and watched him in the mirror behind the bar as a hand fell gently on to her waist. She relaxed into him and let her buttocks press against the firmness beneath his jeans. In that moment the barmaid returned and he fell back, but it was enough. Without a word they resumed their places at the outdoor table, they seemed to have moved closer without any conscious effort and her thigh brushed against his and stayed there. Her hand moved to his leg and upwards until she could lay her slim fingers on his cock without attracting too much attention. He hadn't expected this so soon and he leant forwards with a slight breathiness and brushed her lips, the tingling spreading through him. He risked letting his hand run over one nipple as he lifted his arm to touch her reddening cheek and then he sat back and downed his wine in one draught. She did the same and wordlessly took his hand and stood up – the warmth of the wine flooding her with disinhibition and her steps a little too quick as they walked away from the table and off in the direction of the small hotel she had booked only the day before.

The idle talk stopped and wordlessly they slipped through the crowded street into a quieter square where she looked up at him, eyes on fire, and smiled a knowing smile that said everything. In through the doors and past an elderly couple, past the girl in her twenties on the reception desk and into the old fashioned lift, one of the types with iron grills you pulled across. The grill clanked shut and the doors slid together painfully slowly. As they clicked shut and the whirring of the antique mechanism filled the space she grasped at his neck and pulled his face to hers, her lips parted and wet, kissing him forcefully and slipping her tongue between his lips as if she wanted to taste him for the very first time. His hands pulled her waist up against his and she felt him against her legs, hard and urgent, she moved position so she could feel him rub against her clothed sex. She gasped and felt one hand lift her skirt, reach for her thigh and up across her smooth buttocks, tracing the outline of her tiny knickers, the blue ones, the same ones she'd worn the first time she let him fuck her against his hotel wall.

The lift clanked to an unruly shuddering stop just as she was about to unzip his jeans and perhaps unwisely fuck him right there in the lift. A polite cleaner stood back to let them out, no doubt she was used to seeing ruffled couples emerge.

She took a deep breath and so did he. They walked slower now to the room, along the dark corridor. She slowly regained her composure, she knew what she wanted and with a moments reflection she wanted to make sure it lasted. Before she put the key in the room she turned to him.

"Tell me what you want...", It was an assertive tone, more like a command.

"You know what I want." He replied with a smile in his eyes.

"But tell me now. Before we go in." This was a challenge and it showed in her new composure, she stood tall and slightly away from him.

"I want to fuck you." was all he said.

"Good. I think that goes without saying. I want you to fuck me too. Now, lets make this last, lets make this my fantasy fuck. OK." It wasn't a question.


"So when we get inside, I'm going to do whatever I want – you don't get a say in it, you do as you're told, right." Again not a question. He nodded. "You'll like it I promise," She ran her hand across his cock whilst dangling the key in front of the door. "When you fuck me – when – you fuck me really hard, but you still do whatever I say."

She entered the key into the lock with a gentle force, her mind already ahead of events.

"Come in and stand there" she pointed forcefully at the plain white wall by the long tall window. He did as he was told, an expectant smile on his face. She walked across to him and stood in front of him, part of her appraising him, his lean body, his smile, his hands. The other part of her was trying desperately not to leap on him, struggling to control her desire to be his, surrender and be used. Not this time at least, she thought. She moved closer until her erect nipples were brushing his shirt, she held his wrists and stopped him from holding her. The message was clear. She grasped the back of his head gently at first then slowly she bunched his hair into her fist and pulled him down towards her – she whispered, "Remember, do as I say and you can fuck me, just do as you're told, otherwise I might just walk out into the corridor and fuck the first person I see, man or woman – and you can watch them have what you want." She ran her tongue across his lips and then kissed him slowly, luxuriously, ending with a brief bite that made the blood run and his mouth colour as if it had lipstick smeared across it. This turned her on and she lapped at the small red stain forming a drop on his lower lip.

She didn't know how long she could keep it up, she didn't even know where the words were coming from, but she was excited. Down in the street outside she could see people going about their everyday business and wondered what they would do if they looked up. One of them must do at some point, it was a stimulating idea. She thought back to her words a moment ago and the idea of fucking a stranger, especially a woman, flashed through her mind. It wasn't something she'd done before and she really did want him right now, but all the same... she wondered if the woman on reception might come up if she made enough noise. Her cunt was so wet and she needed it thoroughly enjoyed.

He stood there with his body trembling, his eyes fixed on the new assertive woman she was being, enjoying the idea of being used, being ordered, her lips were full and her breasts were so tight against the white material, her leg was starting to come up between his as she kissed the blood from his lips. He wanted to lift her shirt and hold her breasts but wanted her to tell him first. He felt her hand unzip him and wrap her fingers, long delicate fingers, artist's fingers, around his solid cock, twisting it out of his jeans and grasping it with force. No-one held ever held him as tightly as she was doing now. No-one but him at least. Her nails dug into the flesh of it as she stroked it backwards and forwards. She smiled a wicked smile and took one of his hands. Instead of taking it towards her she used it to replace her own around his cock, then clasped it and started to make him pull himself up and down whilst she watched.

"Look at me while you do that you bastard. Look at me."

She stepped back and sat on the window ledge, lifted up one leg and reached into her bag, bringing out a thick white dildo. She fixed him with her beautifully made up eyes and pulled her knickers aside to reveal her glistening moist pink pussy, pushing the dildo softly between the folds of flesh until it's head disappeared inside her as she moaned softly. He kept a steady rhythm as he watched her fuck herself in front of him. If anyone looked up now they were going to see the two of them. Secretly he also hoped that they would.

She did this for a while and then suddenly withdrew it and beckoned to him. "I want you to lick my pussy. Now".

He obeyed and slid to his knees, letting go of himself and holding the soft flesh of her thighs open, running his tongue across the outside of her vulva, feeling the hair, feeling the vulnerability of her wet clitoris and slowly and surely working his tongue in deeper. Swallowing her juices as they flowed with each deep French kiss of her cunt. She groaned, watched him and then suddenly pushed his head hard into the wet mound. She was coming and she wanted to come. She wanted him to know she was coming. "Fuck fuck fuck! Keep going, keep going!", she threw her head back exposing her white neck whilst she felt his tongue ignite then explode inside her. Briefly she slumped, but she wanted more and never let her grip on him loosen.

He felt the shiver run through her body and she pushed him back, away, breathing heavily. He went to go towards her ready to take her but she put up a hand to stop him, pushing it against his chest, feeling the sweat running down his body and then firmly ran her fingers down to grab hold of his cock once again. She used it as a rudder; directing him across to the bed and making him lie down. She pulled a slim silken cord from her bag– she was glad she'd taken the chance and packed it – and wrapped it firmly around his wrists, pulling it tight, pulling him up and tying it to the head of the bed. He didn't complain. Then she took another and tied it around his left ankle, another around the other, and fixed them to opposite sides at the foot of the bed. His legs pulled apart and his hands immobile she slid her body up against his; kissed him on the lips and slid down again, her t shirt rising with the friction, exposing one breast, pink nipple swollen. He longed to get his hands on that and struggled but couldn't free himself. She looked up at him from under her lashes and raised an eyebrow – he sighed deeply as she took him in her mouth, the swollen end of his cock disappearing between her lips and the swirl of her tongue making him arch his back. She circled the end of his cock with her tongue and felt down to touch her own tingling clit at the same time, enjoying the feeling of having him absolutely at her mercy. Her toy. She pushed down until he was halfway inside her and then bit gently with her teeth, taking his flesh and making him tremble, trying not to come. She knew this and let go with a satisfied noise, like sucking a lolly she thought. "Don't!" she ordered. "Not yet".

She sat up, astride him, her legs straddling his, her wetness exposed. She leant forwards and pushed the covered breast to his mouth, he sucked at her through the cotton, the clothes almost more important than the softness underneath. He liked the half clothed filthiness of her, the dominant slut, and the idea that she could be fucked any time and not just naked. He pushed his head up, sucking more and more at the cloth, at the hardness. Without warning his teeth closed over her nipple, the pain was excitingly perversely gentle, and she reached back down to his cock, digging her nails in as she took it, he rose and involuntarily bit harder, making her gasp loudly. She pushed his head back down and slapped him across the cheek, making it flush rose red. God she was turned on. She held his head down by his hair and leant close, kissing and biting again at his lips. She whispered.

"Now you're going to be fucked like you've fucked me before, fucked hard, fucked like you're my girlfriend – you're going to be so so very fucked"

She moved her body into position and sat upright, guiding his cock, bigger than ever it seemed, into her ripe waiting cunt, parting herself with her fingers. He strained his head to watch as he disappeared between the folds of pink and felt her envelop him within, hot and sleek, deep in one single thrust. He cried out but was helpless as she moved up and down on him, almost uncontrollably, hands behind her on his legs, head thrown back, breasts bouncing up and down – t shirt risen above both, almost oblivious to him as she thrust harder and harder each time. Then she moved forwards, held his upstretched bound wrists and pulled her legs close, in between his, so there was no way of telling which one has which, where they joined, who was inside who. Her hips rose and fell as she drove herself onto him– she gripped him tight within her and he was so close to coming he almost passed out. He couldn't look at her eyes since one glance at them would he knew make him shoot deep inside her, fill her with hot sticky cum.

She realised this and amongst the shouts and the groans and the yelps she pulled loose the straps around his wrists, pushed him away and turned away from him.

he gasped and pulled at the restraints around his legs, freeing himself and then pulling her back to him with one length of rope around her waist, his hard cock impacting with her back as he simultaneously pulled her towards him and pushed her forwards across the window ledge – her arms splaying out in front of her as she steadied herself just in time to feel him push violently back into her from behind, roughly, almost angrily, wanting to take what he wanted from her, thrusting and slamming into her with each wild stroke. She knew she was coming again, she yelled at him to use her, to fill her, her skirt around her waist and her breasts pressed against the cold glass of the window, flattened so that to anyone passing by a glance might mistake her for a boy, a very pretty boy – it was building as she felt his hands, one around her waist holding her close, the other pulling her head back by the hair. It was building as she felt him bite her neck and push her even further down. It was building as she felt him go impossibly deep inside her and she called out loudly, to whom she didn't know. It was building as she opened her mouth and nothing came out, whilst all the time he grew harder and fiercer inside her, sliding deep inside her slippery ripe swollen body. It was building when she finally turned her head, freed an arm and wrapped it around his neck, pulled him hungrily towards her mouth and looked in his eyes. It built as he made one final gasp and pushed deeper still inside her. That's when she felt him come in long pulsating spurts, making her respond with her whole body, quivering and gasping, wishing he could carry on fucking her and wanting him desperately to stop at the same time. She felt him explode in her and then, with a final moment of clarity she pushed away, spun around and looked as he carried on coming across her rising and falling breasts, gasping, covering them and still watching her eyes as finally she took him in her mouth and made him roar, licking the all too sensitive tip, tasting him, reasserting her control....

They collapsed on the bed, bodies full of each other, her chest still sticky, his tongue licking the drops from the corner of her mouth, her eyes wide open, his closed and their breathing in synch.

How long the receptionist had been standing at the door watching they didn't know....

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