I also invite you to my p atreon.
New content every day.
There is a chapter available on my p atreon: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,
pa treon .com(slash)pandorastories (
remove the space)
Without hurrying, He looks at the people around him one by one. Finally, He noticed her. He knows immediately that it is her; the one He is waiting for today. His radar never fails. She hasn't seen him yet, so He can inspect her.
She looks about twenty-two, maybe twenty-five, but is probably approaching thirty. Despite her sky-high heels, her gait is soft and light and somewhat languid, as if she were moving in slow motion.
He has to shake his head to break the trance that her sensuously swaying hips have put him in. She slowly takes in her surroundings and it is a matter of so fifteen seconds before her eyes come across him. He tears his gaze away from her and returns to watching the people dancing on the dance floor.
Not a minute passes when Harry feels someone slip onto a neighboring bar stool. He didn't react right away. He counted to ten and turned around to order another drink. The bartender serves him quickly.
Harry looks at the woman sitting next to him. Her lips slowly stretch into a smile. She touches her long hair. On the inhale, her breasts lift, drawing his gaze. She lifts her hand, summoning the bartender, orders a Cuba Libre and pays with a gold galleon, nodding in resentment that she can keep the change.
"Do you come here often?" She asks, turning toward Harry.
"Regularly."
"I'm Daphne. Nice to meet you," she says, simultaneously measuring him with his eyes from head to toe, devoting a few longer seconds to the crotch area.
"Harry, all the pleasure is mine." He pretends not to see the taxing gaze.
Her eyes find his. A new smile comes to her lips, telling him she knows who He is - a guy whose abilities are almost legendary in certain circles.
Harry reciprocates the smile and, in passing, thinks about how things will go on. Will she pretend she doesn't know who she's dealing with, or will she get straight to the point? There is no other possibility. None so far has reacted any other way.
Three minutes pass, five, seven, and she is still sipping the sticky Cuba Libre slowly. He knows her indifference is feigned. Her body language betrays a woman who knows exactly what she wants in every sphere of life.
She finishes her drink, puts her glass on the bar, and seemingly unwillingly rests both hands on his thigh. He can feel the cold of her fingers, chilled from the ice cubes, through his pants. She draws tiny figure eights on the inside of his leg, slowly, slowly moving upward. She still says nothing.
At such moments, all his dilemmas leave him. He forgot with what revulsion. He looked at his reflection in the mirror just a few hours earlier. At such moments, He looks forward to when she has him inside her.
He has to discreetly change his position. His pants are getting too tight in the crotch. However, his maneuver does not go unnoticed by. What was her na him - Daphne? With a light, deliberate movement, she touches the tip of his penis, but a second later quickly places her hand on her knee.
"I know who you are," she announces, without taking her eyes off his face. Well, at last, so there will be no wrapping up.
"I thought so."
"Is there somewhere to talk privately? To talk? Okay, you can call it that too."
"Depends on how private there is a dark alley behind the club, but if you want to talk longer..."
"No, I feel like having a quick chat today," she cuts in, interrupting him mid-sentence.
While Harry likes impatient women, He doesn't like quick numbers, because that usually means he'll have to go back to the club and look for another horny one for the rest of the evening. When He ends the night too early and comes home insufficiently tired, the thoughts in his head get too loud. He can't stand their barking.
Daphne pleases him. She is concrete; she doesn't pander. Such are the pureblooded women, confident, they know what they want, with well-defined goals.
After forty, when the mirror is no longer forgiving, breasts are no longer so firm, and wrinkles under the eyes are increasingly difficult to ignore, they become more insecure, greedy for compliments, sometimes even desperate.
After fifty, women again all too often cover up and coquettish, but the hunger in their eyes can't mask anything.
They squeeze through the crowd, toward the back exit. The metal door slams behind us with a bang. Fortunately, the night is quite warm.
He leads the way toward the alley. We don't say a word. His ears are buzzing, as usual, after leaving a noisy room. He can only to hear the tapping of her heels.
"Far away?"
"No, just around the corner. Two hundred?"
"Fits."
"Bottom Line."
A moment of silence, after which a disposition falls:
"I want you to be dominant, even a little aggressive, but you must not leave any visible marks on my body. Nothing that would make his husband have any reason to suspect me.
You are to finish after twenty minutes. That's it. He leaves the rest to your imagination." She speaks quickly, with almost no pauses between words.
Harry con clude from this quick speech that she said husband is a miserable lover, probably having sex with the lights out. Unless he is impotent.
"This is here," He says, pointing with his hand to a blind, narrow alley.
She looks around, but what to look at here? The nearest working lighthouse is some sixty meters away. The clouds cut off the moonlight.
"Go to the corner there and turn to face the wall" his words sound like a command, and she does as he says.
Harry approaches her slowly. She wants to turn toward him, but he doesn't let her. Not too forcefully, but firmly. He directed her face back toward the wall. He kept his hand still resting against the back of her head, entwined in her hair, immobilizing her. With his right hand, He reaches under her dress. He wants to know right away if the situation she's in turns her on, so with no foreplay, he slides her thong to the side and sticks his finger inside her. It goes in without the slightest resistance. She is wet and hot.
She doesn't expect such a quick attack. She lets out a gasp full of surprise. He presses his hips against her back so that she can feel that He is ready. He slides a second, then a third finger into her, and with his thumb, He begins to lightly massage her clitoris.
"Push out more." He notices that the timbre of his voice has changed slightly.
As her buttocks move toward him, Harry works his fingers faster, pushing them in deeper and more violently. Her grunts become louder.
"You are to be quiet," He says in a harsh tone.
"You are very good at this."
"Quiet, I said" He growled more than He spoke.
"But. I can't..." stammers out in a breathless voice.
"I don't care what you can't. One more word and I'll stop."
She quiets down, but her body wriggles and twitches in such a way that it is impossible to delay penetration any longer. Harry's fingers slip in and quickly unzip his zipper. Not without difficulty, He extracted his swollen member and efficiently put on the condom. He checks the time on his watch, then with one brutal thrust, he penetrates her to the very end.
Air with a swish flies out of her lungs.
"Oh, gosh..."
"Don't you understand what I'm saying to you? Shut up," He is in her ear through clenched teeth.
Gradually, He speed up his pace, with only muffled, meaningless half-words and moans coming out of her mouth. His hips move faster and faster. He leans in, and his fingers return to the clitoral area and attack her again.
"O... yes... nice... yes, don't over..." the words spurt out of her without composition.
The orgasm hits her unexpectedly; she gasps for air, and her inner muscles begin to spasmodically squeeze his member almost to the point of pain. He slows down the rhythm, giving her a chance to come to her senses.
"You can finish now," she howls in a still breathless voice.
"Finish? I just started. Anyway, you said something for about twenty minutes. Rest your hands on the wall, above your head," He order, and she follows the command without delay.
Harry grasps her hands with his left hand, pulling her up slightly.
Making her immobile. With his right, He cover her mouth. After a moment, He feels a hot tongue sliding over his fingers, covered with her moist scent.
He watches the hands of the watch, moving across the dial while maintaining an even, medium pace.
Her body hangs almost inertly, leaning against the wall. The thought runs through his head that if Harry let her go now, she would fall to the ground like a puppet. He feels like letting her go to see if He's right.
After seventeen minutes, He sped up, and soon He is brought her to the edge of climax. Her hips twitch and bucking, completely out of control. The orgasm goes through her like a storm.
A muffled scream from his hand grasps in her throat. Her vaginal muscles squeeze through him again, bringing him to the crescendo. A moment of stillness and He slid out of her. He stepped back and removed the condom. When He let her go, Daphne drops to her knees, just as He predicted.
From this position, she looks into his eyes for the first time. A smile full of both satisfaction and disbelief wanders on her lips.
He slowly brings himself to order. No words are spoken between them.
After a long moment, she stands up, not without effort. She picks up her purse from the ground, pulls out a galleon, and after a second's thought, adds another.
The money passes from hand to hand.
"See you soon," she says, still with that smile playing on her lips. "See you soon," Harry replied, slipping the money into his pocket.
She walks away with a slow, slightly wobbly step. He waited a few minutes and headed toward the street. He's too exhausted to look for another customer. He ordered a cab and headed home.
Daphne
The orgasm literally and figuratively brought her to knees.
She didn't expect it. She never thought Harry would bring her to such a peak. He flashed her once at an event. Someone pointed him out and told her who he was. She only saw him for a moment then, but remembered him well; when she saw him today, she considered herself exceptionally lucky.
She knew of his reputation; several of her acquaintances had exchanged illustrative gossip about this talented man. She listened to them skeptically, not believing, until today, that the rumors could be true.
Her legs gradually stopped panting. Her mind worked.
She heard Harry's footsteps in the alley, his low voice ordering a cab and giving the destination address, which she failed to overhear despite her efforts.
She ducked inside the gate and watched as he stood, with his hands stuck in his pockets, leaning against the wall of the building. She knew nothing would stop her, that tomorrow she would return here to feel him inside her again, maybe even spend the night together.
Yes, definitely yes.
I also invite you to my p atreon.
New content every day.
There is a chapter available on my p atreon: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,
pa treon .com(slash)pandorastories (remove the space)