feel

An erotic story by m.

AN EROTIC STORY BY M.


Initiation

The tall townhouse is still empty. The walls are bare, the floors are covered with dust and dirt. Sunlight is beaming through the high windows unimpededly, all sounds inside are hollow. In a few weeks' time, it will be a buzzing here, with all its luxury, a touch of boudoir, yet professional and efficient. I can totally picture it as I wander through the empty spaces. I now have an appointment with someone from the construction company to see what needs to be done in the coming weeks. Behind me, I hear the steps of the stairs creak; I turn around.

I subconsciously expected an angular type of person, a construction worker. Bodywarmer, helmet. Safety shoes. Instead, I see a sharply tailored suit, cropped hair, a young, slender face, clean-shaven. A bit of hot stuff really. And I do get an inkling that he's thinking similarly, but then while looking at me. That pleasantly surprised, amused look in his eyes which are going up and down quickly, taking me in and assessing me. It takes a few seconds before I break the tension and introduce myself. We walk around together and discuss what needs to be adjusted, how I see it all. I constantly feel an electrifying bit of chemistry: the fleeting glances back and forth, body language, small signals. That slight tingling in my body.

"Next floor?" My stiletto heels ring sharp and loud through the empty, hollow spaces. I'm going upstairs in front of him. And with that, I allow him a long close up of my legs, my high heels. My bum in my tight skirt. I don't know what else he can see and that feels very exciting. At the top of the stairs, we continue the tour of the building. I go to the window; he comes up right next to me, first he looks out the window, at the street below us, then briefly at me. "Beautiful," he says. I smile, turn around and teasingly slow head towards the doorway. I stop there. 'A very exciting project, this…' I loosely lean against the door frame. He looks at me, but doesn't say anything. I feel he needs very little incentive about now. I'll let him wait a bit longer.

I walk, slightly rocking my hips, to the next room and hear, or no, feel that he is following. I look around thoughtfully, frown and put an index finger on my mouth. My shiny nail is as fiery red as my painted lips. I look at him from under my long dark eyelashes and say, "What I'm going to do here I don't know yet … I need your help with that." For three or four seconds, there is an electric silence hangs between us. Suddenly he is with me. His slim, strong body against mine, his hands against the wall behind me.

I grab his tie, jerk it towards me, and feel his mouth, his lips, his warmth. I am aroused, he is eager. His jacket is already on the wooden floor, I can feel a button snap off my blouse. He gives it tug and another pops off into the empty space, I hear it roll across the bare floor. He admires the gold-colored straps and the fine lace of the Naida balcony bra by Studio PIA, my breasts nearly spilling over it. My hands enjoy his flat stomach, his slim boyish body. He slides up my skirt, revealing the lace cuffs of my thin skin-colored stay-ups. I let him pull down the Naida high waist briefs, help him, until the lace bottoms hang around my left ankle. I open his pants and free him, he's so big, warm, stiff. I lift a long high-heeled leg, wrap it around his waist and let him take me. Standing up, hard, stuck to the wall, without fuss. It's huge and deep and powerful, and makes me gasp. Delicious. Until finally the empty, bare building echoes with our pleasure.

Moments later, while I try to make myself presentable again with a buttonless blouse, he looks at me. I give him a long kiss on his mouth and then tell him: 'We'll have to talk about it again soon…'

oOo

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