The veil of smoke had obscured his face at first. When he leaned back and laughed, waving absently at the transparent blueish curls around him, I could see him clearer. He blew out the next stream of smoke between thin, sculpted lips, his tongue darting out to touch the corner of his mouth briefly. When the girl next to him tittered drunkenly and touched his arm, the annoyance passed so briefly behind his eyes that I was pretty sure no one at his table even saw it.
But I did. I was an observer of life, and the small details didn’t escape me. I studied him further, gliding my fingers absently around the rim of my glass, catching salt crystals and laying them reverently against my tongue.
He had dark blonde hair, cropped short and neat at the sides, just beginning to curl on top. His eyes were light, little crows’ feet eroding at the corners. This was a person who laughed freely and frequently. The yellowish light from the hanging lamps highlighted the high cheekbones, illuminating day-old stubble like little pinpricks of copper. She leant against him in another attempt to grab his attention, and he absently put an arm around her and turned his head, kissing her hair, his eyes staying on the person he was listening to. I sipped my drink in an attempt to hide my raised eyebrows. The gesture was sweet, domestic, but it tasted like an afterthought on my tongue. He used to think he loved her. She knows it’s over, it’s written in the lines at the corners of her mouth.
I carefully gauged the amount of beer he’d had to drink, and by the time he placed his large palms flat on the table and pushed his chair back, I was on the way to the bathrooms, a few bills left under the ashtray on the table I was sitting at and my heels clicking on the worn cement. Brazenly pushing open the door to the empty men’s room, I checked my face in the tarnished mirror above the basin, ignoring the distinctive male smell of urine mixed with disinfectant. I smiled as I heard the door open behind me. Right on time.
Turning, I took him in as he stood frozen, an apology already tumbling past those wicked lips. Crossing the floor I laid one finger on his lips, my other hand going to his throat. I admired the colour of the long lacquered nail that kept the words from escaping, getting lost in the vision for a moment. Then, I stroked my thumb across the hard bump of his adam’s apple, feeling the quiver in the warm skin shoot straight to my crotch. This was going to be good. Leaning forward, I whispered in his ear, my breath ghosting damply into his ear canal.
“Tonight is your lucky night, cowboy. You’re going to get to fuck me against this bathroom wall, and if you’re a very good boy, I might even let you go afterwards. “
His eyes were wide and slightly wild as he looked at me, still silent, his nostrils flaring. Then I kissed him. I kissed him with the knowledge that he will acquiesce to every single dirty little thing I am planning to have him do to me. I am an observer of life, and I knew him, better than he knew himself. Far better than the tart at the table with the hard eyes.
After my tongue had explored every hidden corner of his mouth, tasting the beer and the cigarettes, feeling the fear being overcome by need, I leant back and looked into those wide grey eyes. He stared back at me, his face relaxed and the submission I sought right under the surface. My hand was still resting on his throat, and flexing my fingers, I tightened my grip. Not too much, just enough for his lips to part slightly and to see if my instincts had led me home. I licked my lips as I saw that it did. For a breath the defiance rose in his eyes, but then it was smothered by the blanket of submission I wanted to see, and he dropped his eyes. I kissed him again, tenderly this time, until I could feel his breath quickening in his chest and his pulse thrum against my fingertips. His body relaxed into mine, and I knew that this was the moment.
Planting my hand on his chest I shoved him, hard, walking him backwards forcefully until his back hit the wall next to the door he had entered through. Not letting him recover his balance I grabbed a handful of surprisingly soft gingery curls and yanked, exposing the marble column of throat and dropping my face to his fluttering pulse point. I sucked hard, my teeth scraping against the soft skin making him hiss out a breath between his clenched teeth. I tightened my grip on his hair as I kept up the pressure, making him moan softly. But still he stood motionless except for the rise and fall of his broad chest. Finally, lifting my head, I admired my handiwork, watching as the blood rushed to the spot on his neck, colouring it purple, marking him as mine, however fleeting our meeting would be. Using my grip on his hair, I turned him, pulling away from the wall and walked him into the nearest stall. He came quietly, his whole body speaking of his assent.
Inside the stall I made him sit down on the closed toilet and retreated, throwing the latch nimbly behind my back. I wanted to look at him. He sat upright, but with his head slightly bowed, his eyes fixed somewhere in the region of my knees. His large hands rested on his thighs, his hair was dishevelled and there were two bright spots of colour high on his cheeks. I smiled as my eyes dropped to the promising bulge that pushed against the constraints of his jeans.
Lifting one leg, I planted a heeled foot on his thigh, the stiletto denting into the flesh. Threading my fingers once more through those lovely curls, I looked into the grey pools of his eyes as he stared up at me and commanded.
Licking his lips, he leant forward and I could feel the want come off him like a wavering shimmer of heat. His hands came up, rubbing warmly up the backs of my bare thighs and coming to rest on my buttocks, almost covering all of my derriere as he grabbed hold and pushed his face firmly into my open weeping cunt. My body shuddered and my hand tightened in his hair as he lapped at me like a drowning man. The waves of pleasure radiated through me as I realised that my most recent young conquest knew exactly what he was doing. His strong fingers curled bruisingly into the softness of my behind as he licked and sucked at my swollen lips. I moaned my encouragement in a low voice, telling him what a very good boy he was. My legs were starting to tremble as I neared my peak and I used the convenient handle I had on his curls to pull him away from me roughly. I looked down at his handsome face, his eyes hooded and his mouth and chin glistening with my juices.
“Come on pet, you can do better than that.” I purred, hiding the tremble in my voice.
He grinned at me then, almost cheeky enough to earn him a smack. But then he dropped his eyes again and concentrated on the task at hand. His hand drifted around and I gasped as two fingers impaled me, delving deep and sudden into my hole, making me clench and moan as he curled them forward. I was so close. I smiled to myself, smug about this particular choice. And then he nudged his fingers against that rough furled spot deep inside and I exploded. My hips surged forward as I ground his face mercilessly into my gushing cunt, my eyes pinched closed as my muscles milked his fingers and my juices ran down his chin and arm.
Finally, I opened my eyes and looked down. His face was turned up, his light eyes wide and filled with adoration. I put my foot down and without speaking, plucked tissue from the dispenser, wiping his hand and face gently. Then I ran my fingers through his dishevelled curls, taming them into some semblance of control. He sat mutely, watching me, his hands resting in his lap, making him look like a chastised little boy. When I was done, he finally spoke.
I looked down at him, my feet planted wide and my hands in my hips.
Glancing down, he asked: “Please may I fuck you now?”
I could see by the set of his shoulders that he was holding his breath, waiting. The question was moot, but he didn’t have to know that. I made him wait just a few seconds longer. Then I placed one finger under his chin and lifted his face to look into mine.
“No. You may not. Because you have no choice in the matter, pet.”
I grabbed the front of his t-shirt and pulled him up, bringing his face close to mine.
“You WILL fuck me. And you will do it hard, and fast and deep, until you make me come again. Clear?”
“Yes ma’am.” He murmured, dropping his eyes.
“Good.” I said. “Now let me see what we have to work with.”
He silently unbuckled his belt with a practiced jerk and lowered his fly. His fully engorged cock poked out eagerly and he took himself in hand, stroking slow and steady. I bit my lip as my stomach fluttered at the sight of him. There’s something about a large, ready cock, shiny with tension and precum, that made me salivate. I turned slightly and rested my back against the rough plastered wall to my right, lifting the skirt of my dress to expose my still tender pussy.
“What are you waiting for cowboy?” I winked at him.
He stepped forward and his lips crashed into mine. I found myself engulfed by the essence of him, his hands all over me, pinching and stroking and twisting my flesh until my breath was ragged in my throat. With a clarity that amazed me under the circumstances, I understood that he was so much more than a target. It seemed that I had struck gold. He had chosen to submit to me. And I found myself curiously grateful.
In the next moment all thought fluttered chaotically from my head as he hitched up my leg and entered me in one slow, long stroke. God, he was good, and his considerable girth was a lot for me to take. There is nothing in the world that can describe that first thrust that fills you and stretches you and makes your breath stutter to a stop in your lungs. He withdrew as slowly and ground into the next stroke, brushing my clit tantalizingly. Shifting his hands he lifted me easily to compensate for the height difference, and then he obeyed my earlier command. He started pumping into me, filling me so deep and so hard that I was sure he meant to split me in two. He tore into my carefully crafted mask with every thrust, ripping away my composure until I was a moaning sweaty mess clinging to him for dear life.
I felt my orgasm approaching fast, encroaching on me like a threatening tidal wave of sensation. He dropped his hand and frigged my clit fast and hard, and as it engulfed me, I sank my teeth into the large muscle of his neck, muffling my screams as best I could as he ploughed into me. Stars exploded behind my eyes and my fingernails raked blood red furrows down his back, making him grunt through tightly clenched teeth. All awareness was suspended in that crystal clear moment of true bliss as I drank in his moans of pain mixed so sweetly with ecstasy. Heaving in a ragged breath, I unclenched my teeth from his skin and whispered in his ear once more.
“Come inside me, pet. You have my permission.”
He toppled over the precipice with a sex saturated moan that almost set me off again, his head thrown back and the cords standing out on the glistening expanse of skin stretched from his jaw to his collarbones.
It was glorious.
His hips faltered to a halt and he held me close, my back pressing hard into the wall behind me. I stole a breath of a moment to revel in the closeness, before I inhaled deep and long, reconstructing my scattered composure as best I could. Planting my feet on the grimy floor I shimmied down my dress, took his face in mine and kissed him, slow and soft. Then, I turned and unlocked the stall, smiling brightly at the startled balding man standing at the urinal.
Almost as an afterthought, I turned and slipped a plain white card with an address into my latest conquest’s back pocket. He was standing there, looking deliciously ravaged and slightly nonplussed.
“Next Friday, 8pm,” I threw negligently over my shoulder and after reapplying my lipstick carefully, I exited the restroom without looking back.
I looked up at the stars. It was a beautiful night.