A dirty smile worked its way across her pretty features and lust roared through her bloodstream as she drew a single fingertip across her gloss stained mouth and then smeared the sticky, pink residue across the tips of her peeking nipples. Watching as her fingers twisted and pulled on the swollen tips created a visceral need deep within her core that demanded satisfaction.
Cynthia inhaled deeply and her unique feminine perfume wafted around her, filling her senses with the earthy scent of her desire. She watched in the dull mirror as her pupils dilated and obscured the pale green, leaving her heated gaze almost black. She felt hollow and empty; devoid of any of emotion bar lust.
Letting her head tip to the side Cynthia intently examined herself: pale, creamy skin stretched taut over bone and sinew, the curve of a cheekbone dusted with the sun’s kisses, the thrust of bone and the dip of flesh at the hip; all curves leading to the cradle of her desire.
Her eyes almost entirely black now, drifted ever downward to the source of all her frustrations; the soft mound of her sex.
A trail of desire slid down her inner thigh, tickling the sensitive skin and Cynthia found the temptation to taste unbearable. Balancing carefully she placed her foot upon the lip of the basin and as she searched her reflection she found herself lost, consumed with the way the drenched folds of her sex glistened in the dim lighting; soft pouting lips slightly flushed and glazed with need, the outer lips split like a ripe peach and revealing the tight bud of her clit. Cynthia grazed her clit with the tip of her fingernail sending another creamy droplet of need coursing down her inner thigh.
In the dim lighting Cynthia watched as the desperate animal she hid behind a serene smile prowled; it lurked beneath her skin, pacing like a sleek wildcat caught in a hunter's trap. Her image shimmered momentarily merging with the creature in the mirror, and within her eyes the twisted, swirling cravings of a woman lost.
A gasp of shock echoed behind her, shattering the moment. Cynthia’s haunted eyes speared the dark haired matron staring at her from the toilet stall door. Without a flicker of embarrassment the, Cynthia drew her slim finger along the trail of fluids on her thigh and up through her weeping sex. The stunned woman froze and Cynthia smiled slowly as she bought her creamy finger to her mouth, “Hmmm,” she hummed softly, “Want to taste?”
Cynthia’s lips curled into a sultry smile as she held out her sticky finger, her head tipped to one side inquiringly as if it was an everyday occurrence to offer up dew soaked fingers to women in hotel bathrooms, “No? Pity, I do have quite a unique flavour I’ve been told; rather like tart lemons.”
The older woman’s face froze into a mask of shock and disdain, “Well, I never!” she hissed between pursed lips.
Cynthia suckled the digit calmly as she lowered her raised leg and adjusted the silk, impatiently flicking the material so that it once again clung lovingly to her lush curves.
The obviously flustered woman stood frozen, the agitated rise and fall of her bosom preventing Cynthia from leaving the restroom and re-entering the hotel foyer.
“Changed your mind?” she whispered huskily as she pressed forward.
Heated breath scored across Cynthia’s nipples, making them ruche into tight little buds; the older woman’s pupils dilated, her mouth slack as her tongue snuck out to wet the dry flesh of her lips. She swallowed audibly, her pulse pounding in the hollow of her neck as she found herself unable to tear her eyes from Cynthia’s breasts.
“Later perhaps?” murmured Cynthia as she strolled from the restroom; hips rocking, breasts jiggling and the older woman completely forgotten.
*******
Oily need slithered relentlessly through Cynthia’s veins, seeping insidiously through sinew and bone to pool in the heated delta between her slim thighs. Her bottom shifted restlessly upon the cold leather of the bar stool, a minute movement of pale, slim thighs that caused the smooth lips of her sex to grind. She hissed almost silently in pleasure.
Slumberous eyes widened and then blinked slowly, her hungry gaze had found what she’d been hunting for; on a couch in the hotel lobby sat a man. He couldn’t possibly have seen the calculation that sharpened the icy depths only that her pale eyes now concentrated solely on him. She was shameless in the obvious way her gaze consumed him: eyes sharp and hungry as they wound with deliberate intent from his full lower lip across broad shoulders. Her eyes stalked up and down his muscular frame before returning to view with obvious pleasure the thick ridge that rode his upper thigh.
She slipped her pink tongue across her parted lips and with a studied move bit her sharp, white teeth into the damp flesh, her eyes downcast. She waited, breath held, muscles coiled tightly as her cunt clenched sending a rush of cream to dampen the pale flesh of her inner thighs.
Deliberately, Cynthia dipped her fingertip into her glass, swirling it slowly in the cool liquid before dampening her nipple with a drop of wine before continuing the downward glide to her thigh, the almost casual caress fired off electrical currents straight to her seeping slit. The man’s complete attention was riveted on the thrust of rose flushed nipples and the progress of her slim fingers. His hungry gaze darted once more to Cynthia, his lips parted and he unconsciously mimicked the darting movement of her tongue as she swiped it across her full lip. Her fingers hovered momentarily over her mound and the man’s eyes darted around the room as if not quite sure what to expect. With painstaking movements, Cynthia allowed her thighs to drift apart; the folds of her skirt clung lovingly to her thighs momentarily before slithering slowly to one side, revealing sheer, black stockings. His eyes bugged wide when he realised her smooth, glistening pussy was completely bare.
He was lost, staring with unblinking shock at her glistening folds, and then he faltered; eyes shifting and flickering about him as his cock visibly thickened, thrusting upward to form an obvious rise in his slacks. He panicked, hands frantically searched for something, anything, to cover his arousal.
Cynthia’s rising lust slammed to a halt, her disappointment burned away the gripping need engulfing her twitching slit. The man’s inept fumbling and obvious nervousness effectively doused her interest. Perhaps on another night his embarrassment would have fuelled her desire to tease and flirt, shamelessly arousing him until he worked up the courage to approach. This was not one of those evenings. Her need was specific. A man who’s very presence demanded her complete and utter surrender.
He broke eye contact, blushing and folding his hands across his lap before he glanced up once more with a shy smile only to find her head averted and her beautiful cunt hidden from his desperate gaze.
With her back presented to the disappointing man, her desperate gaze once more began roaming the dim depths of the small wine bar. Idly Cynthia drained the last mouthful of crisp white wine; the tart fluid couldn’t mask the bitter taste of desperation that coated her tongue and her pale green eyes darted restlessly from one man to the next, constantly searching as her fingers absently twirled the almost empty wine glass. Occasionally, her heart fluttered in anticipation only to be ruthlessly denied when the object of her hunt failed to live up to expectations.
“Another white for the lady, Steve, and be so kind as to bring it to my table please.”
“Yes, Mr Kellerman. A drink for you, sir?” the barman was almost quivering in his boots, and to Cynthia he resembled an overly excited puppy about to pee on the floor.
“A scotch, thank you Steve,” the deep voice rumbled softly from behind her left shoulder and Cynthia swivelled on her stool to face this, Mr Kellerman; she slowly assessed the man before her. Her fingers itched to play in the dark curls that brushed the collar of his jacket and to feel the scratch of his stubbled cheek against the soft skin of her neck. Long, lean legs made him appear taller than he actually was; in fact Cynthia suspected that if she was to stand toe to toe with this Mr Kellerman, she would quite easily meet his gaze eye to eye. Excitement sizzled under her skin, causing her nipples to harden slightly; she watched his eyes narrow as his attention was caught by her protruding nubs. One thick eyebrow arched slightly before he turned his back and walked back to the rear of the bar. Almost, as if in after thought he casually flung over his shoulder, “Are you coming?”
Cynthia’s sex clenched and heat swam through her system making her dizzy with lust; she slipped unsteadily to her feet letting her dress swirl about her ankles. Slowly she followed, her breath caught, then sped up as he stood by the booth and assisted her while she sat.
“Anything else I can get for you Mr Kellerman, sir?” Steve placed the drinks on the table and awkwardly shuffled his feet as he waited for an answer.
“No thank you, Steve. That’s all for now,” Mr Kellerman waited until the barman had made his way back to the bar before leaning over Cynthia’s shoulder; his breath caressed the sensitive skin of her neck as he took in her scent. He spoke softly as the tip of one finger traced the sharp jutting line of her collarbone, “I’ve been watching you, girl. You’re being very naughty, but you know that don’t you,” although his voice was barely above a whisper Cynthia heard the steel in the inquiry and knew that it was more a statement than a question. She turned her face towards him only to hear his breath draw in sharply, “Did I tell you to move, baby girl?” his hand dropped from her shoulder and his fingers twisted her protruding nipple slightly, with just enough pain to have Cynthia’s shoulder snapping back and her breath gasping in surprise.
“Now, let’s start that again, shall we? Please tell me exactly what is it you think you’re doing in my hotel?” while he spoke his fingers gently returned to her neck, hypnotically tracing small circles across the fragile bones.
“Come on baby girl, you weren’t so shy ten minutes ago when you flashed your bare cunt to the poor boy in the lobby, or tried to tempt the woman in the restrooms, and we won’t mention the fact that my poor barman is walking around with a perpetual hard on from looking at these for the last half an hour,” he chuckled softly as his fingertips flickered across the lace encrusted tips. “My, you have been a bad girl, haven’t you!”
Cynthia flushed at the bald way in which Mr Kellerman listed her actions. She kept her face averted, hoping to keep from him the dirty smile that flirted at the corners of her lips; unaware that the dimple flashing at the corner of her mouth gave her away.
“I have a need,” she whispered, the tortured words hanging in the silence.
Mr Kellerman’s fingers grasped her chin and turned her to face him, when he remained silent Cynthia allowed her eyes to meet his; what she saw burning in the hazel depths had her heart tripping in excitement: hunger and power.
“And you thought that by brazenly flashing your cunt you could assuage this need?” he continued to absently stroke the length of her slim neck, fingers encircling the slender column and rendering Cynthia a mass of quivering nerves.
“No. Yes…I don’t know? I just wanted to be found,” a narrow shoulder lifted in a bewildered shrug, a small sob escaped from deep within her chest when the rough pad of his thumb scooped up the single tear that traversed down her cheek.
Slipping his thumb into her mouth, he smiled encouragingly at her when her lips and tongue clasped and sucked, “Then perhaps you should consider yourself found.”
Mr Kellerman remained with his back to the room, effectively blocking the patron’s view of their table. The pressure and heat of his hands on her shoulders had Cynthia quivering, longing for his possession. When his hands dipped beneath the lace of her top and cupped her breasts in his palms, her breath stopped momentarily before resuming in jagged pants. Rough fingertips dragged back and forth over the rigid tips and a surprised gasp slipped from her parted lips when she heard the lace tear as he yanked on the neck line, with a twist of his fist he tore her top down to her navel and casually bared the pale globes of her breasts.
Cynthia’s cunt throbbed, creaming her thighs with need. “Clasp you’re your hands behind your back,” he commanded. With both of his hands occupied fondling her breasts Mr Kellerman thrust his swelling cock into her hands, rocking slowly back and forth as his fingers tugged harshly on her nipples, twisting and rolling them between thumb and forefinger; ripping little moans of pain and pleasure from the depths of her soul.
Leaving her breasts bared, the lace torn and fluttering, Mr Kellerman removed his hands and stepped away. “Leave your hands where they are and follow me,” he took several steps from the table his voice firming, “Now, girl.”
Heat seared her skin as she flushed from the tips of her abused breasts to her hair line; she knew that when she stood and turned her breasts would be displayed to all and sundry. Conflicted emotions warred within her chest; the desire to obey, and shame that she obtained such pleasure at the very idea tore at her.
She heard his returning footfalls and felt the puff of his breath against her neck as he sighed, “Have you looked in a mirror, baby girl? You’re beautiful, you have no need for this…” his fingers ran once more to her nipple, rolling the tip softly between his thumb and forefinger “For this charade.”
Cynthia’s spine strengthened, her shoulders straightened in resolve as she gracefully rose to her full height, she felt the huff of his laugh on her neck as he leant in to nip the skin behind her ear with his teeth, “Have it your way, girl,” and with that he walked briskly away, his footsteps echoing on the floorboards.
‘In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say,’ Cynthia thought, and with that spun on her heel, she thrust her breasts proudly, and with her chin tipped arrogantly she scanned the room. She met the slack jawed, shocked stares of the men at the bar with a sly smile and slowly stalked to where Mr Kellerman waited at his office door, an indulgent curve to his lower lip.
He shook his head, and a small smile flickered briefly before his hand connected with her arse in a stinging slap, “Stop showing off.”
He grasped her hair in his fist and tilted her pretty face towards him. His eyes devoured her bared breasts before his full lips locked hungrily on her smirking mouth. Sensations buffeted Cynthia, the feel of his warm, soft lips moving on hers, the harsh scrape of his stubbled jaw against her cheek and the sting of her hair dragging as he turned his fist, pulling the honeyed lengths tightly against her scalp. Her lips parted in a pained gasp, and taking advantage he plunged his tongue into the heated depths. Their tongues duelled fiercely until she sagged limply against him, her breasts crushed against the hard planes of his chest. She brushed her nipples slowly back and forth against the silk of his shirt, moaning in ecstasy as he bit her kiss swollen lip and sucked it into the heated cavern of his mouth.
“Drop to your knees, girl.”
Cynthia glanced at the open door and then up into the stern gaze of the man who’d just kissed her senseless. With a soft sigh she sunk to her knees, her hands still clasped firmly behind her back.
His voice was gruff and his eyes hard as he murmured, “Unbuckle my belt.”
Cynthia’s eyes flickered to the bar; she had an audience of two. Steve, the barman, stood with his eyes wide and mouth slack, the patron on the other hand had a filthy grin plastered on his leering face and a large hand fondled the hard on tenting his slacks.
“Look at me, my girl,” Cynthia’s wild stare was caught and held by the dark gaze of the man before her, “I told you to unbuckle my belt,” he sighed softly and trailed the tip of a finger over her lower lip slowly, “So beautiful.”
The softness that crept into his tone was Cynthia’s undoing. She ignored the watching men and let her slim fingers swiftly work on his belt. A muttered, “Fuck yeah,” drifted across from the bar, but Cynthia ignored the temptation to glance in their direction, instead she kept her eyes firmly on her task.
“Undo the button.”
Cynthia felt her pussy weep, and clenched her thighs tightly in an effort to relieve some of the burning need erupting between her thighs.
A slightly husky, “Zip,” followed.
The fist in her hair tightened as she did as she was instructed; pressure on the back of her head had her moving closer to the hard ridge hidden by the tightly stretched material across Mr Kellerman’s groin. Taking a deep breath, Cynthia caught the scent of male; the fecund, primal aroma filled her nostrils, swirling through her system like a drug. She was his now; body and soul.
Completely lost in the moment, Cynthia sat motionless, awaiting his next command.
“I want you to take me into your mouth, girl,” his ragged voice surged through her system. Her sex; hot and swollen throbbed uncontrollably, and dripped copious amounts of her nectar between her thighs. Cynthia wiggled in desperation as she pealed his slacks apart. The angry, scarlet head of his cock rose swollen and leaking above his boxer shorts. Lust fogged Cynthia’s brain and she barely registered the click of the office door closing as she leant forward, slipped his cock free and lovingly dragged her tongue from base to head before clasping her lips tightly over the engorged head and plunging her mouth down the pulsating shaft.