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Rooftop Rendevous

"My terror blends with arousal and lust and fear are one."

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The door to the rooftop squawks on its hinges, shutting out the smirking, pudgy-faced matre’d. We are alone in the soft night air. The Wedge Tower is not the tallest building in downtown Houston, but it is more than tall enough for me! I wonder again why you feel compelled to show me the view from up here instead of the cozy confines of the elegant 43rd Restaurant below. Still, the view is magnificent – especially when viewed from the center of the high rooftop.

You hold me at arm’s length for a moment, gazing appreciatively. I look hot tonight. Heads turned at the restaurant when we made our appearance – you so striking in your suit and me in the strapless Scala you had presented me this very evening. Never have I owned a garment of such sophisticated elegance! Clean, simple lines seemed to round the angles of my body, giving me a soft, subtle, ethereal look that I knew was alluring. I bask willingly in your adoration, eyes smiling.

“You are so beautiful, Sara.” And I can tell that you mean it. Something melts within me and I fold into your arms, my face lifted for your kiss. You press me to your body and although outwardly you are restrained, I feel you tremble at the touch of my unconstrained breasts against your chest. I wonder briefly if you notice my erect nipples tenting the bodice of my dress.

You glance upwards and smile. “I didn’t think we’d be able to see but there it is! Do you remember the constellation I told you about?”

“Do you mean the one shaped like a reverse question mark?”

“It’s there.”

You turn me slightly in your embrace and point skywards. At first I see nothing, and then I laugh in delight as the familiar figure emerges from the mass of stars hovering just above our heads. Leo, I think you call it. My wonder pleases you.

A gentle breeze wafts my hair as we gaze, and I can feel the heat of your cheek next to mine. Here on the rooftop all is still, with nothing but the other-worldly view of the tops of skyscrapers, stars, and the distant murmur of traffic far below. I am suddenly aware that my heart is beating a tattoo on my ribs.

“Come.” You tug my hand, urging me towards the parapet.

“NO! It’s… it’s too high! And the rail is so small.”

“Don’t be afraid, my beautiful Sara. I am with you.”

And as I gaze into your dusky eyes, and see the twinkle of raw excitement dancing there, my reluctance collapses and I allow myself to be led to the rail. I creep timidly to the edge and look out into the black gulf of concrete canyons, illuminated only by the stars and the street lights far below. I stifle a cry and try to turn, but you envelop me from behind, cradling me in your sturdy arms, your cheek pressed to mine. You smell so much of a man! I allow myself to relax a little, as you nuzzle my neck.

My heart crescendos, and I am aware, too, of your mounting excitement. I sag into you and you cup my braless breasts, kneading them gently, powerfully through the ruffed fabric of the dress. A tickling kiss in my ear and suddenly my legs are rubbery. It is no longer the view that holds my awareness nor the black abyss before us, but the living, pulsing bulge pressed into my back. I stand on the edge of the world, caught between lust and fear, as my loins melt, surrendered completely to your will.

And, as if sensing my need, you abruptly turn me and seek my lips. Our tongues meet, dueling, striving together. You plunder my mouth and my heart thunders in my chest so that I fear it must burst. And then it is my tongue that pursues yours, timidly at first then with urgent passion. I explore the pleasures of your mouth as you have explored mine, and as you suckle my tongue, my arousal is a throbbing, aching thing, demanding and impatient.

You stroke my bare shoulders, my back, not softly but urgently. Then as another wave of need engulfs us, you abruptly cup the round globes of my bottom and pull me into you, trapping your swollen member between us, your knee separating my thighs. Restraint abandons me and I rub myself on you, frantic for relief. I need you, Chris! I need you now! I need you desperately! I… I… NEED you!

As if hearing my wordless plea, your fingers find the zipper of my dress and slide it smoothly down. The night breeze kisses my bare back and I shiver a little before I feel your warm palms between my shoulder blades, stroking and caressing my electric skin. I press closer, hugging you to me, hoping the proximity of our bodies could encourage the nearness of our souls. Your hands travel lower, fingers tracing fiery trails on my lower back, on the bare cheeks of my bottom. I catch a whiff of my arousal, and by the sudden sharp intake of your breath I know that you have scented it as well. With barely restrained passion, you slide my dress off of my breasts, revealing them, then slide the fabric over my taut belly, revealing my black lace thong panties to your ravenous gaze. I step out of the dress, clothed now only in the briefest of undergarments, my heels, and my thigh-high hose. You hold me at arm’s length as you drink in my nearly naked body, and I see your phallus jump and pulse, striving to escape from its confinement. Moved by a compulsion that I cannot control, I oblige.

My lust-clumsy fingers fumble at your belt, until finally it is undone. With growing urgency I unbutton your fly and unzip you, tearing at your waist, frantic for you. Your boxers catch on the proud prong hidden within and I tug and tug until with a bounce you are free! Oh! Chris! You are so beautiful! I sink to my knees and gaze at the magnificent phallus before me. A Greek god would be proud to be so endowed!

As if driven by a will of its own, my trembling hand timidly caresses your turgid shaft. It’s so hot! I marvel at how soft your skin is, yet underneath pulses a rod of iron. I must taste you! I lap at you with my tongue, capturing the sweet pearl forming at your tip. You gasp and press my head into your groin, and I open my mouth and take you in.

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I revel in the hot sponginess of your head, rolling it around my warm, moist mouth with my tongue, tasting you, exploring your texture, your shape. I eagerly probe your opening, seeking for more of that sweet nectar that is the essence of you. With one hand I grasp you firmly and the other finds the two little orbs drawn close to your body, and I scratch them ever-so-lightly with my nails. Oh, Chris! I love you like this! I feel so close to you this way! My tongue and lips move over you, striving to take you all in, to please you, to complete you…

But growling in restraint, you will have none of it. You raise me until I’m standing and gazing deeply into my eyes, hook your thumbs into the waistband of my panties and deliberately lower them to the ground.

I flame with embarrassment in spite of my pounding need. I am exposed to you now, worse than naked in my hose and heels. Your lips part as your eyes roam my body, while I search your face for signs that I please you. I so want to please you. And you are pleased. With a strangled moan, you swiftly turn me, bending me over the rail until my bottom splays obscenely open to your sight. My head dangles over nothingness yet my only desire is to be filled, to be completed by you.

You pause a moment to inspect your prize. A finger runs lightly through my furrow, parting me, and I shiver, a thrill coursing through my body. I will myself to be still, to submit myself to your desire. Oh, Chris! Please don’t tease! I want you NOW! But your finger continues its maddening journey, stroking first my lips then the soaked valley between. You press my bursting nubbin and I gasp, tortured almost beyond endurance. My loins ache for you, long to be filled, to be possessed by you.

But not yet are you ready for me. Your fingers traverse my secret places, exploring my openings, causing me to clench and squirm. You press on the small of my back, forcing me to arch my pelvis and thrust my bottom back at you. I feel the warm skin of your thighs on mine and then your weapon nudges me, hard as steel, soft as down. Grasping yourself in your hand, you stroke the head through my furrow coating yourself in my wetness, a final prelude before the storm. Up… and down. Up… and down. With each stroke your tip nuzzles my inflamed nubbin, and I cry out in sudden pleasure.

Finally you grasp my hips and place the tip of your engorged helmet right at my entrance. A moment only you pause, then savagely, brutally, you drive deep inside, stretching me, forcing a passage. I moan in response. In one thrust you are all the way in. You have conquered me and all my childish teasing. It is you who are in charge now. It is you who will bend me to your will. And I surrender! Oh, I surrender!

You draw back slowly, excruciatingly, leaving me achingly empty. I feel you throb just inside my entrance and convulsively I clamp you, squeeze you, begging you not to withdraw. Don’t leave me empty! Finish what you have begun! And you are merciful, for at just the moment when your head must pop out, again you thrust! And again! Again!

Ohhh!” I wail, “Oh, Chris! Don't stop! Please don't stop! Deeper! Don't be gentle with me! Don't hold back! Please… Oh, please… Harder! Yes! Oh, yes – like that!

You settle into a savage thrusting rhythm, a fierce lunge, a pause, then a slower withdrawal. With each thrust, my head and upper body are forced out into the open air, straight over the abyss. My terror seems to blend with my arousal, lust and fear are one.

Over and over, faster and harder you thrust, and I grind my teeth in frustration, frantically seeking my release. I push my bottom back in time with your thrusts, adding to the force. My hand strays between my legs, caressing the orbs dancing there and playing with the funny wrinkled sack that is their home.

“I am so full, Chris! You are so big inside me! Complete me, Chris! I want you to come inside me! Please? Please, Chris? Please – come inside me! Don’t deny me! Don’t leave me void!”

And suddenly I feel it rising, swelling inexorably, springing from deep inside my loins, from my very core. It is remote at first, almost faint but ever-growing. Ever expanding. Rising like water in a well. I steal myself struggling to postpone it, to slow its rise, to prolong it. My body stiffens with concentration and my breath is stilled.

And then you swell impossibly inside me, and with one final mighty thrust you impale me to the uttermost limit, forcing yourself against my womb. A deep guttural animal groan is wrung from deep in your soul and bursts from your lungs, as spurt, after spurt, after spurt, of warm wetness floods me!

And as I feel your release, no longer can I stem the flood. My resistance collapses before the mighty wave that engulfs me! “Ohhhh, Chris! Oh Chris! I’m coming! I’m comming... I’m…

And it is upon me! Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me and through me, roaring in my ears as I buck and tremble; spasms convulsing my vagina, as I clamp your spurting manhood filling me with your essence.

And just when I feel I can bear no more it’s over. I slump exhausted on the railing and you collapse on top of me, panting in my ear, your softening penis still lodged inside the warm, wet clasp of my vagina. I squeeze it gratefully, not willing yet to lose it.

A muffled squeak of rusty metal catches our attention and we have the briefest glimpse of the little matre’d disappearing down the stairs. We grin at each other.

“I wonder what’s on the dessert menu?” you ask.

 

 

Published 
Written by Shylywild
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