This was written for a very special redditor – I hope she enjoys it.
It was a perfect summer’s night in London. The clear sky dappled with a few bright stars as blinking planes soared above the city. The air warm yet regularly refreshed by a stiff breeze which rolled down the Thames. Skyscrapers and terraces lit up in permanent festival as the hubbub of carefree partyers roiled from street to street.
We had the perfect date, albeit it hadn’t gone quite as planned. I ended up cancelling our dinner reservation as the cocktail bar we had started in turned out to be so much fun. Espresso martinis and inter-office gossiping for an amuse bouche. Mojitos and light flirting for starters. Negronis and shared loves of travel, reading and theatre for mains. A brief interlude of hand holding and playing with your hair. Martinis, lust and desire for pudding.
We always knew it was going to end up this way. Our mutual attraction was apparent from the moment we locked eyes across a printer – you were wearing that tartan skirt and tight white shirt. I was in my best suit, my hair tussled with the stress of that day’s clients.
As we walked along the Southbank, you reminded me of how I had cleaned up a splodge of soup on your shirt. How I had gotten close enough for you to breath in my eau du toilet and how it had mixed with my natural scent. Your hormones had gone wild, and your face flushed with panicked lust. I hadn’t even noticed. I apologised.
But that was years ago. Now I was only in London for an evening – stopping off before an early flight out to some bog-standard Eurofin district to talk about boring numbers and boring sales. I had called you to spoil us both on the company’s archaic and ludicrous expense account.
By the time we got to the lobby of the hotel, the alcohol and excitement had fully kicked in. Your arm twirled into mine, squeezing my bicep before resting on my chest. In retaliation, I snaked my hand down your lower back, pausing a moment on the golden zip which broke the monotone blackness of your short dress, finally resting on your sumptuous hip. Our pounding heartbeats betrayed our cool exterior.
As soon as the lift doors closed, the spark of our passion ignited a tinder box of yearning. Our hands rummaged around each other’s bodies, grasping for contact with anything hard or soft. Our lips met, squeezed and locked together. We kissed as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. Your eager tongue darting over mine, longing to taste me. My teeth biting at your lower lip as your gasped a sigh of satisfaction.
Our embrace was as ardent as it was short lived. Just as your hands had begun to claw my broad upper back muscles and my own hands had squeezed your bum though that daringly short dress – the lift beeped. Time’s up. Get a room you two.
We spilled out of the elevator, still clasping at each other. We laughed as we ran down the corridor, desperately trying to find room 1629. You tried to squeeze my growing bulge through my suit trousers as I batted your hand away. You squealed as I tried to lift up your dress, pushing me away before I saw a glimpse of your underwear. We giggled as you stole a kiss near the ice machine, you gasped as I pushed you against a wall to repay the debt.
By the time the keycard had slipped in and out of Room 1629, we had become animals. I saw you only as prey – a little black dress wearing gazelle foolishly sipping at the watering hole. Our shoes were kicked off. I was ready to pounce on you and take a bite out of that wonderful rump. But you were no meek prey waiting to be eaten. You were ready to put up a fight. Perhaps the hunted would become the hunter?
We kissed again, savouring the taste of each other, lips and tongues exploring cheeks, ears and necks. Those animal instincts fired as I grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head to the wall. For the briefest of moments, I saw you buckle into submission, your head lowered, and your gaze averted as I used one hand to pin your wrists and the other to explore your body. I traced a line from your lips, down your neck, across to your collar bone and down to your breast.
You willingly exposed your neck to me. The gazelle knows when its time has come. My lips came crashing down, softly biting your neck, demonstrating that I was the king of this jungle. With my hand cupping your breast, I began to rub my thumb against the trace of an erect nipple. In your submission, you began to moan quietly as I continued to feast – my hand now wandering further south, taking time to enjoy your feminine curves until it reached the soft warmth of your bare thighs.
“What a submissive little slut you are,” I whispered in your ear as I nibbled on your lobe “Let’s see how wet you are.”
My hand began to reach under that little black dress, momentarily feeling the lacy outline of some panties before the game suddenly changed.
With one slick movement, you slipped out from under me, freeing yourself of my grasp. Quicker than I could have thought, you flung your arms around me, and you had squatted down into (what looked like) a wrestling starter pose, feet planted firmly on the ground. You laughed as you told me to ‘bring it’, as your hands searched around my belt, trying to take off my trousers.
My initial reaction would have been to grab you by your sides and use my strength to throw you off, but I was stopped dead in my tracks when, again in one fluid motion, you shifted your legs, darted under mine and ended up behind me. Both arms across my waist, one hand planted firmly on my cock, by now fully erect and bulging though my suit trousers.
What a naughty gazelle you were turning out to be. You demonstrated your hidden strength as you began to lift me off the ground. But I couldn’t let you forget who the King of the Jungle was here. I turned into you, dropping my shoulder and grabbing your upper thighs. Again, we were posed like two judo fighters, grappling with each other. Except this time, I knew not to underestimate you. I dummied which way I was pushing you, causing you to lose your balance and allowing me to get you in a rudimentary headlock. You panted with exhaustion and squealed with delight. Your glorious little bottom wriggled as you tried to escape.
“Let’s see what you’re trying to hide from me, little slut.” And with that, I whipped your little black dress over your bottom and onto your waist, revealing your incredibly naughty underwear.
You clearly knew which way this date was going to end. You were wearing an intricate series of black lace straps, punctuated with red roses and studded with tiny flecks of gold filigree. These straps zig zagged across your body, contrasting against your pale flesh.
And of course, they framed your ass perfectly. I couldn’t resist.
I bought my hand up and down in one fluid movement, delivering a sharp spank which caused your ass to ripple and quiver. I called you a naughty girl for making me work for it. As I delivered a second spank to the second cheek, I heard your muffled moan – of course you liked being spanked.
I spanked you ten or twelve more times. Each time your moans became more erotic and more desperate. I could feel your hands pressing against mine, begging for release. I could feel your head move, searching for my cock.
By the last spank, your ass was glowing warm with a stinging pain. I was getting ready to push you on to the bed and have my way with you. My grip relaxed a moment, and you took full advantage. Once again you whipped behind me, grabbing my waist and fumbling around for my cock. “Thank you for my spanking” you whispered, before the next thing I know I was being whirled around the room.
Turns out that you were not a gazelle. You were a crocodile, and this was your death role. Expertly, you had flipped me over until I landed on the soft bed with you on top, your black dress hiked up around your thighs and your hair falling flat over your face. My hands instinctively went to grasp your hips before they were taken by you and pushed over my head – a cruel mockery of your earlier situation.
“My turn now” you growled as you began to rock your hips back and forth, your eyes half closed in lust as our crotches grinded together. Your breathing became shallower and shallower until eventually you came. Your hips bucked and your face screwed up in cute concentration.
As you enjoyed your post orgasmic bliss, I took the lead. I pushed you onto your back and pulled myself up until we were in the missionary position. By now, I was rock solid and was overcome with sexual desire. Grabbing your dress, I ripped it apart, revealing the stunning lace strapped lingerie beneath.
You gasped at the ruin of your dress, but you clearly loved it. Your hands again searched for my cock as I kicked off my trousers.
I positioned my hands under your hips, taking a second to squeeze your firm ass, before I hiked your hips up, pinning you to the bed as your legs rested on my shoulders. Your lustrous eyes peeking out under your tits. The scent of your soaked pussy drove me insane as I snapped the buttons of your lingerie.
I gorged myself on your pussy as you squealed and squirmed with delight. I was not gentle. I sucked your clit and I fucked you with my tongue, your salty sweet juices dribbled down my chin as you came again and again. Eventually, you pushed yourself off me as you needed a minute to spasm uncontrollably.
When you came back around, you immediately began sucking on my cock. Your eyes betrayed how needy you had become from all those orgasms. You were my little gazelle again, looking to please her leonine master.
You were an attentive cocksucker, playing with my foreskin and memorizing every inch of my veiny cock. You sucked on my balls and kissed the head of my cock before you asked me to fuck you.
You wriggled yourself off the bed, crawling all fours until you reached the chair by the window. The view of the city from up above was astounding. The view of your ass, draped in lingerie, was even better.
Drunk on lust, you moaned deeply as I entered you from behind. We paused for to enjoy the sensation of being together before you began to rock slowly, driving my cock deeper and deeper into your pussy.
As we increased the tempo, your moans and sighs became increasingly sluttier. “Harder” you gasped, “harder” you groaned, “harder!” you shouted. Before long, I was slamming into your pussy with everything I had. Sweat poured from both of us my balls slapped against your clit.
“Spank me” you stuttered, halfway through an orgasm. I was happy to oblige. As I thrust again and again into your sopping wet pussy, I slapped and spanked your bouncing pale ass cheeks, each strike causing you to yelp with obscene pleasure.
I needed to cum. I stopped spanking your now red raw ass, grabbed your hips and went to town on you, fucking you with all my might as I called you every slutty name under the sun.
I exploded inside of you as you rode the wave of multiple orgasms. My thick cum slowly dripped out of you, pooling on the carpet as I held you close to me.
We spent the rest of the evening bathing together, with me kissing your raw bottom and you ordering champagne and steaks from room service.
We fell asleep in each other’s arms, satisfied at last.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/snj0we/a_summers_play_flight_mf
Super Hot!