After a day of chores and mourning Roe, I asked my new husband if he wanted to see a photo exhibit in the city last night to brighten our spirits.
I’ve been out of commission due to a little health thing, and I knew his balls were swollen, so I wanted to look cute and get him worked up while we were out. I switched to a bouncy little skirt, put on red lip stain, and took off the bra under the spongy little v-neck top I’d worn all day. When he saw me, he told me how hot I looked and grabbed me by the hips. I knew he wanted to bend me over the kitchen table, but we had timed tickets! So out the door we went.
We arrived to the stunning old New York museum around 7pm. The exhibit was a moody, violent, subversive, sexy. The lighting was minimal and designed dark pockets all over the space. Once or twice, I approached him from behind and reached around to tug on his the thigh of his shorts, knowing the fabric was pressing his dick, moaning quietly just for him before walking away. He pressed me against the wall for a hard kiss in one of the stairwells. The topless self-portraits of women confronting objectification were the perfect extra stimulation.
We left during an exquisite golden hour. His face is inviting, smart, so handsome. As lusty as I am over him, I also have a huge girlish crush on him. He held my hand and suggested a tiki bar nearby. I asked if it had good bathrooms. He nodded forcefully.
The space was tasteful, and I could tell you all about it, but that’s not what you’re here for. We ordered wine, took a few sips, and I walked him to the bathroom. It had individual stalls, but thin walls. I could hear people chatting as I pulled my tits out, dropped to my knees and popped his warm, half hard dick out and onto my cheek. I used my hand and cheeks to make him harder and switch fully to slut mode, knowing that my face already smelled like dick. I made sure our eyes were locked as I took him down my throat. He did a bump off a collar stay while I sucked and slurped, massaging his balls, my spit dripping onto my chest. He stood there with his hands on the walls while i bobbed and choked myself. Once or twice I had to cough from being gagged, jerking him off hard, half hoping someone could hear us.
I asked him to take control and fuck my face for a minute, which he did aggressively as always, but I was doing (and LOVING) most of the work. My cunt was swelling and wet as my knees were spread on the floor, but this wasn’t about me. He told me to jerk him off into my mouth. I told him i wanted to drink his cum while I looked up at him, my tits bouncing in concert with my hands while I worked him with expert pressure in my hot right hand, holding his balls in my left, leaning over to suck his balls while reading his cock for readiness. His breath started quickening, and I knew dessert was coming. I wrapped my lips tight as I stroked just a little faster, and his thighs shook as the spurts started. I drank every drop like it was my last. Mmm. I love his cum so much.
He was glowing and speechless. We were not fully recovered when we left the stall and headed back to the table. He told me later he passed a guy who said “Nice work.”
(While he fucked my face from above this morning, he asked if I would have stayed in the stall if he had someone lined up next to give me another mouthful. I said yes and came on my own hand imagining that. Maybe next time.)
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/vl7mg4/on_my_knees_in_a_swanky_bathroom_fm