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Lunch Hour - Part 1
After corresponding for months, business takes me to your town, and now we will finally meet. Unfortunately the timing of my trip is horrible. Between your crazy boss and my inflexible work schedule, the constraints to our actually seeing each other are very significant.
Much to our shared disappointment, we determine that the only time we can actually meet is today just for lunch. I arrive at your building, on this crisp day, by the entrance that you normally use. You smile warmly as you recognize me: 6 foot 2, 185 pounds, dark short hair to the side, and brown green eyes. It is your lunch break and you have but one hour. To any onlooker I am just a friend taking you to lunch, perhaps even helping you with your current client. I am dressed in Khaki pants, a white button down shirt and a green sweater. You are dressed in a vibrantly pink blouse, colored skirt and have on an attractive coat. You are just as you described, petite, smiley, and wickedly sexy. Upon seeing you, I give you a light peck on the cheek, similar to the greeting that any friend would provide. The brief physical contact we share is exciting but totally unsatisfactory. I look deeply you’re your eyes for just a moment: then turn away so as not to catch the attention of others. Even in my short gaze, I see a spark in your eyes and long to look again. I already feel the tension between my legs, yet we have barely touched. We pretend to be stoic and disinterested in each other. It is a difficult act. We walk about one and half blocks without touching while making small talk; how was your flight….how is work going? I want to feel your touch badly, but we both feel constrained by the public nature of the street. We have planned to just talk over a casual lunch, but the unspoken sexual tension between us is significant. Finally, I see a little doorway depressed from the sidewalk. Our eyes meet yet again and we glance in unison at the opening. Our pace picks up and we both head for the secret dark inlet, just off the street. Our hands join as we get closer to the dark space. Once just out of the view of street, our mouths meet with a torrid of passion. I thrust my tongue into your mouth and aggressively pull you towards me. The passion is clear and ever present. You receive me with open warm lips. Our mouths dance the dance of glee. I carelessly tug at your coat and it falls to the floor. My hand is on your blouse, firmly against your breast. I press your breasts through your blouse. I rub and kiss you with a sense of urgency. Your right hand touches my groin and I smile, a bright grin of passion. I am now hard and definitely pocking directly north, like a compass, toward your skirt. Your hand strokes the outside of my pants. Our eyes are filled with the fire of passion. We continue our frustrated grouping for what seems like an eternity. Finally I whisper into you ear, “I want you” “I need you …please.” My hand continues to rub your breasts firmly and directly. My tongue races around your sweet mouth and we both feel our desires grow. I slide my hand inside your shirt and below your bra, caressing you nipples: they feel hard and excited. My other hand is slowly wandering down you ass, aiming and hoping to get under your skirt. My mind races with sexual thoughts: I wonder what color your panties are, are they wet with excitement, how your loins would taste in my mouth. I now know that we will never make it to lunch today. Suddenly an old woman on the street walks directly by us. We stop and stand still for just a moment. We are both reminded of the semi public location that we are in, just a couple meters from the sidewalk. The darkness of the opening shelters us from direct view but provides little space nor protection from the sounds of our passion. I feel frustrated yet excited by the situation. I ask you if you want me to stop. Passionately, you whisper, “I am sooo wet, see.” You grab my hand and guide it toward your drenched pussy. You lift your skirt and pull your panties to one side. One mystery solved, your panties are black and sexy. You take my index finger and slide it directly into the center of your pleasure spot. It is dripping and soft and my finger glides in effortlessly. It feels incredibly warm and delicate inside you. You pant and lick my ear with vigor. Your breath is warm yet soft. You grab my wet ear with one hand and my groin with the other and say, “put it in, I sooo need it inside me right now”! I slowly move my finger from your depths; suction inside of you seems to tug against my finger, slowing its removal. I place my thumb on your clit as I remove my finger. I roll your clit in my fingers and I glide my index finger around your depths, feeling the outer walls of your womanhood. Suddenly I feel you begin to shake. Your insides tighten around my finger and you become flush in the face. You continue to shake a little and let out a gasp, “ ooooh ooh oh…yes.” Your wetness flows by my hand and down your leg. You stagger a bit from the passion. You look incredibly sexy at that spontaneous moment of joy! I look you in the eye and know that it is now time. I remove my finger. It has a sexy aroma that I just can’t resist. I passionately open my mouth and publicly lick my finger: tasting the sweet nectar that now awaits my cock. I know that I will be inside you in a moment and my heart races. This is a moment that we both have thought about and looked forward to for months. I think for an instance, not of the if of intercourse but rather of the how. I see a long stair rail just behind us leading to a very small landing at about our head’s level. I now realize that our passion pit is actually the dark fire exit of an old office building. The top of the landing has a fire door, solid and painted an industrial red. I look up at the door and take you by the hand. We seem to leap to the top of the landing, both of us excited for what comes next. We kiss once again. This time your mouth tastes tangy, your fruits of passion seem to overflow. Your voice is now husky and you say, “give it to me, oh please give it to me.” You grab at my pants and aggressively pull at my belt, forcing it from its loops. You toss the belt to the ground below and smile at it makes a clink noise on its impact on the hard concrete below. Not wanting to waste a second you pull at my pants, seemly indifferent to the potential to tear them in your effort to remove my khaki work pants. My pants are now bunched around my feet. My cock’s head pops out of the hole in my boxers; it is very erect and dripping from the very tip. The limited light reflects off of the fluid that on the tip of my cock. You pull my underwear down to my ankles and take my warm cock unit into your left hand. You are a lady with a purpose. I almost fall trying to shake my pant and underwear off. I now feel nature’s coldness on my bare behind. Almost like a ballerina, in one swift motion you grab your panties, lift a leg and remove the panties: never losing you balance or control over my unit. You toss the panties over your shoulder with a reckless smile. You have a wanton look of passion in your eyes and a singular purpose of mind. You must have it now. I use my arm to slow your almost frantic pace and I take charge. With your small size I lift you up and you instantly place your arms around my neck and wrap you legs around my middle.. I lean us you against the fire door: it is dirty and old but that is of no importance. The door is solid and our passion is true, that is all that matters at this moment. I fumble a bit with you skirt, as it blocks the strategic opening that we both long for. Success, I now have uninhibited access to your wet pussy and I proceed. I use the door a lever to hold a bit of your petite frame and I lower your legs onto my enraged cock. I enter you just as you bite my neck and shoulder in passion. We seem to fit together like pieces of a puzzle. I slide inside you filling you with a warm stiff pole. My cock continues its journey straight down. You expand to accommodate its fullness. Finally I have reached the last possible inch, cock head rests against your cervix. Inside of you feels so warm and tight. I know that I will not last long and begin the rhythm of sex. We skip the slow gentle elements of love making in exchange for the rapid abandon of frantic passion. Our bodies move in heated unison. You receive each powerful stroke and your body shakes from the impact of my cock as I slam it in and out. Your fingers rip into my shoulder as orgasm approaches. The sexual tension that has been building deep inside you is now ready to burst. I too am on the verge of explosion; my pounding of you in now anxious and almost uncontrollable. The fire door shakes with the rapid force of our lovemaking. |
Lunch Hour - Part 2
Finally, your body tightens and you eyes become wide. You grab me tightly and smile in a way that I have never seen. You bit my tongue in a moment of over exuberance. I begin my explosion as well. My balls tights and then release multiple times in fast succession; my cock shoots a solid stream of fluid inside you. I grab and lick you ear in passion. I shake and shiver from the intensity of the orgasm. I continue to slide my unit back and forth, inside you. You gently push me away, requesting a moment to recover. My cock slides from its warm home, it is shinny hard. My juice drips down your leg. We both pant as if be had run a marathon. Our eyes are locked on each other. The intensity of my gaze burns into your head, etching this moment of passion into your mind.
Then we hear it. Faint at first, but becoming rapidly clear: people are coming down the inside of the building and out the fire door: our fire door. This secret spot is, in another instance, to become a public place. I look you in the eye and we both realize the inevitable. I grasp for my cloths, pulling at my underwear and pants at once. It is almost comic the lack of coordination that I display. At the same time, you strive to regain your composure. Your face is still red and your legs maintain a slight shake, remnants of our passion. Reluctantly, you run your hands through your now damp hair, lower your skirt and straighten you bra as best you can with your impaired dexterity. We fight the clock to return to a respectable state of dress. My pants are on but not buttoned. Your clothes are equally disheveled. The sounds are almost upon us. I grab you and we run down the stairs and laugh just as the fire door opens. Two men appear from the door, cigarettes and lighters in their hands. We sprint out of the opening and up the street, hand in hand. I must hold my pants in place as I have forgotten my belt and failed to even button my trousers. After a fell more meters you notice something also. Your panties they are not in place: they must be still on the ground. We stop and laugh. Wow, what a lunch break. |
What a fun story!
Thankyou for sharing it with us. :) |
Great story, Ray!!!!! :)
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Good stuff ray...lunch by any other name...
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excellent..........but I knew that!!!! Can't wait to read more from you!
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