Tag: Exhibitionist

I reached to rearrange my breasts back into the cups of the bra. His eyes snapped to mine, and I swear his gaze literally scorched me.
“Did I say you could cover yourself?”
My breath hitched. I shook my head, hand frozen on my left breast. He growled.
Growled.
I couldn’t help it. A whimper escaped my lips as another gush of fluid trailed from underneath my skirt and down my thighs.
“Hands at your sides, cow.”
I obeyed. “Yes sir.”
The still air of the elevator was cool on my skin, dewy from a mix of his saliva coating my breast and the cold sweat that had beaded across my entire body. My legs shook as the elevator climbed toward the 14th floor and the doors at last pulled apart to reveal the (thankfully) empty hallway.
“Odd. This is usually when Mr. Ferguson steps out to get his paper.” Sir pushed me forward, his fingers smacking the curve of my ass with a light thwack as I stumbled out the doors. “I guess we’ll just have to walk you tomorrow.”
Walk me? I was seriously beginning to question what I’d gotten myself into. Sure, I’d been intrigued–eager even–to try lactating with a man. This was basically one, long, anonymous hookup after all. For three weeks, I was to allow this man free access to me, and he claimed that he could get me to lactate.
And I’d get to feel what it’s like to have milk come out of me.
I shivered, but this time it had nothing to do with the temperature in the high-rise apartment building. He directed me to his apartment, and slowly removed his keys from his pocket. The whole time, I could feel his rapt attention on me, making sure I wasn’t making any attempt to clasp my bra or button my shirt again.
He pushed his key into the lock, and froze. He turned to me.
I blinked up at him.
“On your knees.”
“What?” I breathed. He had to be joking. We were right here at his door.
He raised an eyebrow. I didn’t move.
And then, before I could even react to stop it, he raised his hand and whipped it across my breast with a firm *smack*!
My nipples went rock-solid, and I gasped loudly.
“The next time, it’ll sting,” he muttered, leaning his head down until I could feel the warm air from his lips against the shell of my ear. “Now. On. Your. Knees.”
I sank to the floor, keeping my torso upright.
“Hands on the ground. All fours.”
I swallowed. And then, slowly, I bent forward at the waist and did as he said.
My large breasts sagged towards the ground between my arms, my still-sensitive nipples mere inches away from the tile floor. I watched his shoes as he paced around me, until his legs passed my peripheral vision and I could only feel the radiant heat of him as he stood eerily still behind me.
I held my breath. Was he going to spank me? Was I being punished? In the hallway?
I didn’t sign up for being an exhibitionist.
*So why am I so wet?*
With my bare knees on the ground I could feel it–my pussy juices were smearing on the ground underneath me, lubricating the smooth, cold tile and making it slippery. Then I felt two long, warm fingers trail up the back of my thighs, under my skirt, and sink right in between the lips of my pussy.
And I moaned.
“That’s a good girl, sweetheart,” he said, sliding his fingers in and out between my folds, swiping briefly–tantalizingly–where I wanted him most. “I was beginning to think you weren’t ready for this commitment. That maybe you were having second thoughts.”
He pushed in deeper and a strange, croaking noise squeaked out of my throat. His fingers curled down toward the floor while they twisted inside me, and it was like nothing I’d ever felt before.
*Oh God, is that my G-spot?*
I’d thought it was a myth. Certainly no guy I’d dated had ever found it. Nor had I, anytime I’d tri–*”Oooooooooh Gooooooooooood.”*
That was me. I was panting and moaning and his fingers were zeroing in on somewhere deep inside me, and a pressure was building in the pit of my core like nothing I’d ever felt before. At once I felt a tugging behind my belly button and the sudden urge to pee, all while a deep, all-consuming pleasure rumbled at my core and my whole body started to shudder.
His other hand grabbed at my hip, and his fingertips sank into my forgiving flesh. The sensation was grounding, and I suddenly remembered that I was in a hallway in a semi-public building, with my ass and pussy exposed and my naked breasts swinging towards the floor and a man fingering me for all to see.
I panicked, clenching down on his fingers. My head shot forward, and I felt his breath on my neck. “Are you?”
“Wha–what?” I breathed, shaking, and he laughed before I could get any other words out.
“Having second thoughts? Do you want me to stop?”
And just like that, his fingers stopped moving. But instead of pulling them out, he dug his fingers into my hip and clenched my pussy in his other hand, squeezing my mound between his fingers and thumb. I felt him surround me inside and out. It was somehow both less and more intense at the same time.
I could hardly draw a breath.
I tried to wiggle out of his hold, but his arms were too strong. I whimpered.
“Don’t… stop…” I managed to wheeze out.
Dear God, I could hardly think. Every ounce of my attention was focused on that diving pressure between my legs. My eyes teared, and the hallway blurred before me until I could almost convince myself it wasn’t actually there at all. I sighed as his fingers pulsed once, twice.
“Don’t stop, what?”
I only paused for a second as I tried to remember what he meant.
“Sir. Don’t stop, sir. Please.”
I felt the heat of him curl over my back as he growled into my ear. *“Good girl.”* Read more »