Tell Me What You Need

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The most intriguing guy had just walked into the hotel bar. I wish I’d seen him enter and watched his strong stride from the far end of the room, but my attention was on the bright laptop screen, freckled with coffee from an accident the week before. I’d rewritten the same sentence 7 times even before my peripheral vision picked up his bright white shirt against the wood paneling. This weekend away was meant to break my writer’s block; all it’d done was break my bank balance in this bar. 

My eyes followed the shirt and pierced into him while he leant against the bar. His side profile looked serious, all forehead wrinkles and stern, thin lips while he ordered a Laphroaig neat. His broad shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. I tried to create him a back story then and there, unpick why he seemed so pensive: an argument with a much-younger lover over something trivial, a business deal that had fallen through over financing, maybe he was a casualty from the cacophonous wedding next door. 

His eyes lazily slid in my direction and I waited to meet them. His stare followed the parquet and up my creamy, bare leg. It lingered around the curve of my hip and stomach then drew up to my tits, straining against the low-cut of the dress; my breathing grew heavier as his eyes feasted on them while taking a long sip of the scotch. I could barely breathe by the time our eyes connected with a sharp snap.


The mirror was cold against my back as he roughly parted my thighs. The marble vanity beneath my bare arse, my dress shoved up around my waist, I let him expose me while he kissed my tits insistently. 

My eyes flicked to the public bathroom door.

He pushed his hand through my hair, his forehead touching mine. “Fuck, your tits are incredible”. 

“Do you want to know what else is incredible?” I took his hand and guided it up my inner thigh. Pushing my hips forward, exposing myself further, I led his hot fingers under the lace of my thong. His eyes never left mine.

He took his time at first, allowing his finger to be enveloped between my lips, then passing it over my clit without pressure and teasing me over and over while scattering kisses up my neck. Impatient, I started to beg.

He looked even more serious than before, as though fucking me was business: “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to cum” I replied, my voice already hoarse from panting so hard. He growled and roughly thrust two fingers in and out of my wet cunt. A guttural noise shot from my mouth; my head thrown back from the force of his hand. I submitted to being fucked hard, there next to the sink; I forgot about the door. 

His mouth returned to my breast and found a nipple beneath my bra, but he was more forceful this time, his teeth catching me. My hips rocked restlessly, and I lifted myself so I could ride his hand. My hand gripped the porcelain until I felt my nails scratch the smooth surface. Finally, gloriously, his thumb found my clit and pressed hard: the fire seared through my cunt and my whole body tightened and shook. He didn’t slow his fingers as I trembled against them, my screams silent into his shoulder.

He eventually relented when my ragged breaths caught in my throat. His lips then found mine and we kissed with such hunger there was the taste of blood on my bottom lip. Guiding his hand firmly towards my face, I turned his palm upwards and slowly sucked his wet fingers in turn as he groaned. 

He grabbed me by the wrist. Pulling me brusquely off the vanity and back into the cubicle, he ordered me to sit down. Hungrily, I watched as he teasingly, excruciatingly slowly, unbuckled his belt. His eyes didn’t leave my face as he continued to unbutton his fly, studying me bite my lower lip with slow anticipation. He pushed his thumbs under his waistband and began to edge down his trousers, exposing his stomach, a tantalising glimpse of dark, trimmed pubic hair, then he stopped. 

“Tell me what you need.” He enjoying teasing me far too much, it was torture. 

“Your cock”. It was the first time I’d seen a smile crack his serious mouth. Reaching into his back pocket for a condom, he placed it between his teeth as he finished pushing down his clothing. His beautiful, hard dick was released like a spring. I was breathing so hard as he carefully unrolled the condom over his length that I felt faint; it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. 

We switched places, his cock pointing perfectly straight as he sat down. He patted his bare thighs, beckoning me to sit on him. As I straddled him, pulling my underwear to the side, someone entered the bathroom. Hearing the door swing, I froze, just as his cock popped into the entrance of my cunt. I held him there, his head nestled inside me, aching, as the taps were running. The look on his face was one of excruciating need. His nails were digging into my thighs further and further. I wondered if the other person could hear our heavy breaths. 

The door swung open again, then closed, and his need took over. Grabbing my hips tightly he fucked up into me hard, his teeth clenched. I held the cistern to steady myself, my tits crashing into his face with every brisk thrust; the sweat from his brow clung to my chest. Feeling his shaft stretch my soft flesh was delicious.  

As my cunt was squeezing him hard, he grunted that he was going to cum. I held his face, our eyes meeting. For a second, his tough, stern exterior slipped and I saw him vulnerable as his eyelids flickered. In the final moments I took the lead, slowly rocking my cunt and milking every last drop until he fell still. He swallowed hard before kissing me tenderly. 

He lifted me off him as though I weighed nothing before dressing himself silently. He looked back at me one last time as I sat back, exhausted and used. His stern expression back in place, he closed the cubicle door behind him.

A black and white close-up of my cleavage, dressed in black, and with a shadow across my collarbone.

Audio porn created in collaboration with Girl on the Net for her excellent project:

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