Dirty Talking Man

Her room was not far.
We were in a corner of the atrium
where we could see each other
in our respective rooms
through the opening
in floor to ceiling curtains.

Her hand went to her mound
and she began fingering herself.
Just as quickly she gave a shudder
things had apparently been building up
for quite a while today
waiting for this release.
She looked directly at my hand
pumping my cock,
which challenged my normally
dependable self control.
Then she did two things
which set the stage for me.
She used a hand to pull apart her labia
and she raised one leg up
onto the window sill,
exposing herself fully.

I fastened my eyes upon hers
and began concentrating
on one thought
as her fingers played
across her pink flesh
as my hand stroked my own.
I am in front of her on my knees,
licking and sucking
and fingering that wet cunt,
massaging her ass
and tonguing her clit
until she comes
all over my face.

I stared at her
continuously,
hoping that thought
would carry across
the silence of glass and walls
as she became more aroused.
But she also had a message for me.
Her eyes had a look that I've seen before.
The "If-I-really-want-to-finish-you-off-you-don't
stand-a-chance" look.
And she was right.
It wasn't just the beautiful woman
dancing with me in the night.
It was the moment.
Whether you think of it spiritually,
or fate or life tapping you
on the shoulder and reminding you,
"Remember this!
This is a peak experience.
Don't forget it"

When she began
making suggestive movements
with her lips
as I played with my balls
I felt pushed,
or pulled over the edge.
My body momentarily turned into a cock,
my back arched,
my abdomen tightened
and I spurted across the divide
onto the window in front of me.

As I continued to shake with aftershocks
I watched as she went into high gear,
the hand over her clit almost a blur
and her pelvis,
fucking the air
as I wished it was grinding against my face.
Her head snapped back and she came,
juices visible on her hand
and then her body pushed forward
to mash her wet juicy cunt against the window.
I could hear grunts
that even the doublepane windows
could not keep in.

Then she vanished from immediate view
into the arms of a chair,
the bed, or the floor,
I couldn't tell which.

I went to the phone,
my need for personal contact
as great as the need for release had been
just a few moments before.
I had no interest in ruining
the rest of the evening
for this wonderful woman .
But I didn't want her to feel
all alone at this moment, either.

She answered and I just went on,
"I just wanted to thank you.
Not just for the sex, but you just
pulled me out of an abyss
and back into the world.
I just wish it had been
my tongue on your pussy just now.
Call if you need or want anything,
or don't if you're done."

I hung up before she could say anything
and immediately wondered and feared that,
as usual, I had just made a jerk of myself.
Couldn't I just disappear
when it was clear that was appropriate?