Come on come on come on come on now touch me babe… Jim Morrison’s voice strutted across the dancefloor like he was still among us. My dancing partner — whom I shall call Ms White, a slim brunette with a huge smile and eyes you just want to dive into — sang along, treating every word like a command, spinning around, and shaking her hips at me as if they were a commandment in themselves — come on come on come on come on and touch me. How could I refuse? I grabbed on and pulled her tight, feeling her gorgeous ass bumping up against my crotch. For a few minutes, we were a lizard queen and king, we could do anything… And then the DJ played something more modern and our psychedelia trip was finished, but the thought lingered for the rest of the night as we danced together, come on come on come on…
We were new lovers, Ms White and I. Every touch still held a thrill — is this really happening, with this person? We’d met online, on one of those sites that caters for people like us who shouldn’t really be doing what we were doing if you catch my drift. We stole time together. Catching a few hours here and there in hotel rooms whenever we could both slip away unnoticed. Beautiful moments, but in some ways frustrating because we both wanted more. Lots more.
**************************
Earlier that day we’d hopped a train and ridden for a few hours to Paris. We gassed the whole way, talking about anything and everything, right down to what Ms White was wearing underneath her loose shirt and tight jeans. I knew it would be matching — she had a thing about underwear always matching — the only question would be the colour or the style, and how wet I could make her panties by talking about how I was going to be tearing them off at the earliest possible opportunity. Other passengers must have overheard but that was all part of the fun.
We found our way our hotel in Montparnasse and as soon as the doors had shut in the elevator we were kissing and grabbing at each other, exactly as we would have if it was one of our steamy snatched afternoons. Instinctively my hand went straight inside that loose shirt and felt her incredibly firm tits, tweaking her nipples. She let out a little gasp and bit my lip. Then the lift binged and the doors opened. We laughed as another young couple — all buttoned up in their polos and matching chinos — waited primly to board.
“Going up,” I said, pointing a suggestive finger in the air.
Polo man looked annoyed but Mrs Polo gave a little smirk as her eyes dropped to my jeans. I could Keçiören escort read her mind: I’d already ‘gone up’.
As soon as we were in the room we were onto each other again. I backed Ms White up towards the bed, backed her up some more, then lifted her with her legs wrapped around my waist and carried her onto the bed. Ms White’s hand went straight to my cock, raking her nails along it through the denim. I kissed her neck and luxuriated in her perfume, going with it for a minute — but I had other ideas.
On a normal afternoon we’d take time undressing each other but today I just went straight to her jeans. One button. A zip. Then plunged my hand down to where there used to be curls, but where now there was only a tiny landing strip of gorgeous dark hair. She was wet, of course, and more than ready to be played with. Her labia felt like they drawing my fingers in and guiding to me to stroke all the way up and along, probing in a little, until they reached her clit, pausing only to push a little harder and explore around, before going back to the bottom for another delicious stroke.
Suddenly her hand grabbed my wrist and thrust my arm down further. I knew what she wanted — my long middle finger parted her puffy lips and entered her. She moaned like she’d been dreaming of it for hours — which perhaps she had. I took it as an invitation to push a second finger in and thrust harder, hooking the fingers around and reaching for her g-spot.
Ms White had been telling me since our first date that she was a squirter, but so far I hadn’t managed to set off the waterworks. And if she thought I was going to try there and them, she was mistaken. I had other plans.
I stopped for a moment to pull down her jeans and panties (they were a lush dark green, btw, my favourite colour), spread her legs wide, and replace the stroking finger with a stiff tongue. Ms White cried out in pleasure. Freed from their other duties, my fingers went back inside, hunting again for her g-spot.
Leaving her to swear at how good it all felt, I tweaked her nipples with my other hand and tightened the suction on her clit, bringing it out even more so I could flick it with my tongue.
‘I’m cumming, I want to cum,’ she cried. Ms White’s a greedy cummer, she always wants it. And she’ll get what she wants, but not until I say so.
I stopped everything.
‘Keep going, keep going,’ she begged me.
‘Who said you could cum yet?’
‘What?’
‘Who said you could cum yet.’
‘Bastard.’
‘Yep.’
‘Fucking Kızılay escort bastard.’
‘Or in this case, no fucking bastard.’ I stood up. Tucked my shirt back in my jeans. I held a hand out to pull her up. ‘We’re going dancing.’
Ms White loves dancing and I suspect that if it was any other activity I was suggesting — other than more sex — she would have flat refused. But such is her love of dancing, she reluctantly, allowed me to pull her panties and jeans up (I know, I know — when has a man ever done this?). I fastened the zip. Kissed her passionately. Then fastened the button.
**************************
Two hours later, our psychedelia trip finished, our hips still swaying in time, we sashayed off the dance floor. Ms White stepped out in front and took my hand. I suspected I knew where she was headed, and sure enough, I watched in wonder as she walked brazenly into the men’s bathroom with me tailing behind, straight into a cubicle, and locked the door behind us. She gave a little smile, sat down, unzipped my trousers and took out my rapidly stiffening tool. I expected to feel her gorgeous mouth but instead her hand closed around my shaft, her thumb right on my frenulum, and started going stroking fast. Only once I was fully hard did she take the head in her mouth, not really sucking just rolling her tongue around the ridge and then probing along the tender underside, before putting her mouth in an ‘O’ and bobbing back and forth.
This was only going to end one way, an eruption of spunk down her throat — but no, right before I arrived at the point of no return, everything stopped. My cock throbbed trying to pump something, but it hadn’t arrived yet. All I could do was twitch and wait for her to say it:
‘Who said you could cum yet.’
It earned her a slap on the ass but she laughed. She liked that too. And then I was alone in the khazi, waiting for my snake to soften sufficiently to pack it back into its cloth cage.
The ride back in the cab and up in the elevator was full of feints and teases, kisses and whispers, all gloriously titillating but nothing that could bring on an early climax.
But as soon as we got to the room, all that was about to change.
‘I need a shower,’ Ms White announced. It was a warm night in Paris, a little humid, but this was about more than the weather.
‘I’ll join you.’
‘You can watch.’
She stripped and I followed her into the bathroom. She shut the door, soaped quickly, then started her show. Kneading her Kolej escort soapy tits. Trailing the suds down her lovely, slender legs. Letting her fingers dangle far longer than required around her almost bald pussy. It was all too much, and I pulled my own clothes off and took my cock in my hand, tossing slowly while I watched, transfixed as she turned around and begin soaping her ass, bending over to give me a better view, before teasing her hole with a finger.
‘Better get in here before you make yourself cum,’ she said to me.
I was in like a flash and took over exactly where she was pointing. I spread her cheeks and my tongue reached out to jab her pink little hole. I could taste soap but I didn’t care. I let my tongue find its way around her back door, swirling like it was her vulva, while my hand reached around to the front to find her clit. Ms White let out a squeal of delight as I found it. I rimmed and rubbed, rubbed and rimmed until the tell-tale sounds of orgasm began to build in her throat.
‘Who said you could cum yet?’
With that I gave her ass two little slaps and stood up. My plan was to bend her forward and fuck her from behind but that idea stood no chance. Instead it was me who was spun around firmly by Ms White. She kicked my legs apart like she was going to frisk me and then ran her hands up the insides of my legs.
I could feel a bar of soap in her hand and the next thing I felt was it sliding up and down my ass crack, soon followed by two of my lover’s slippery fingers probing and then entering my ass.
She knelt down and took my cock in her mouth and with that, plus the fingers inside me, I was ready to blow my load in seconds. Ms White knew it too. Right on cue, everything stopped.
‘Who said you could cum yet?’
She dashed from the shower, grabbing a towel on the way and headed back to the bedroom. I followed a minute later and she was already waiting, laying on her side, propped on an arm. I slipped in behind her and my cock found her pussy immediately.
I played with it at the opening for a minute before sliding in. She gasped. She moaned. I gasped too at just how good it felt — in fact I can never get over just how good Ms White’s pussy feels. I pushed further. Harder. Deeper. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Faster…
And both of us completely forgot our evening’s catchphrase. So lost were we in the moment, so mesmerized by the orgasms building from deep within us, so relieved that it was finally happening, we both cried out as our bodies rocked and quaked.
When we’d calmed a little, I couldn’t help but say it. ‘Who said you could cum, anyway?’
‘You couldn’t have stopped me if you tried,’ Ms White replied.
It was an electric start to our trip. And the best thing was, we had another eighteen hours to go.
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