"Since when do you go for this touristy kind of stuff?"

Her arm tucked in mine, Cosima leans her head against my shoulder as we stroll from the restaurant to the glass-floored area of the LookOut level. The last traces of the spectacular sunset have finally disappeared. I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean, chérie? Are you saying you didn't enjoy dinner and the view?"

She tips up her chin to kiss me, almost making me veer into a wall. The taste of her apple crisp and sour cream ice cream mingles beautifully with my smoked Gorgonzola and tawny port. "Not saying that at all. The food was awesome and the view was outstanding. And the company was unparalleled."

I can't help kissing her again as we reach the bank of elevators, making sure to steer us toward the pair facing south. "But?"

"But, well... dinner in a revolving restaurant in the CN tower? It was really nice, but I don't think we've ever done anything quite so, um, conventional for date night."

The door opens and I gesture for her to enter first, nodding at the attendant.

"Ooohhh, cool!" Immediately distracted by the clear glass panels embedded in the floor, through which we can see lights and cables going all the way down the shaft, she doesn't notice my handing our coats to the attendant, who steps out after giving me a jaunty salute and a wink. I try not to roll my eyes as the doors close. The car descends a short way and stops; the lights blink off, leaving us in darkness surrounded on three sides by glittering lights stretching out as far as the eye can see. "Uh. What's up?"

I back her into one of the glass walls and wrap my arms around her, enfolding her in a deep kiss. "What is up, my dear Cosima," I say, nibbling and tugging playfully at her lower lip as my hands roam slowly up and down her back, over her buttocks, along the taper of her sides, "is that I have, euh, remunerated our attendant friend to leave us alone in here for twenty minutes, which is the maximum amount of time the elevator can be stalled before the automated system calls for emergency servicing." Turning her around so that she is looking out over the city, I settle her hands firmly on the rail and press the length of my body to curve against hers. "So we can either spend that twenty minutes taking in the view," I butterfly-kiss the nape of her slender neck, which is beautifully exposed since her dreads are swept up into an intricate bun, "or we can find out if and how hard I can make you come in my mouth before our time is up."

She makes a strangled sound and tightens her grip on the rail, eagerly widening her stance. I grin to myself.

Eeling around to kneel in front of her, my back pressed to the glass, slowly I smooth my hands up the beautifully delineated muscles of her thighs and the gentle curves of her hips until the brief skirt of her peacock blue dress is pushed up well above her waist. I nuzzle her lacy panties, breathing in the scent of her arousal and brushing my lips over her silk-covered mound until she squirms. Fingers wind into my hair as I tug at the elastic band with my teeth, then with my hands down to her spread knees. The wispy fabric constrains her legs far too much for my satisfaction; impatiently I yank at it until it gives way.

"Dude! Those were like fifty bucks at Tryst."

The indignant expression on her face makes me want to giggle. I give her my wickedest smile. "I'll buy you a dozen more pairs, and rip them off you whenever and wherever you want." Using my elbows to gently nudge her legs farther apart, I settle one of her thighs firmly over my shoulder and press a kiss into the incredibly tender skin at the join of her hip. "Forgive my skipping the preliminaries, chérie, but I've been waiting all evening to do this." With the flat of my hands I part her damp-darkened curls and outer lips, my tongue delving to paint a slow, meandering path. The discovery of her glorious heat and wetness makes my heart stutter.

"By all means," she says, her voice a harsh rasp. The heel of her shoe digs into my back as her body tenses and arches toward my mouth, her hands gnarling in my hair.

I manage to lean my head back enough to glance up at the glorious display. "You are so beautiful," I say, feathering the lightest of kisses over her scarlet swelling clit, then slowly tracing with the tip of my tongue along every fold and crevice of her sex. My senses fill with her impossibly rich sweet salty tangy taste as I dip and swirl briefly into the flood of her arousal. Teasing at the satiny skin over her taint makes her cry out, the muscles of her leg tautening and flexing against my shoulder. Slowly, so very slowly, I lick my way delicately back up toward her clit, all the while paddling the tips of my fingers just outside the heat-slick entrance of her cunt.

The helpless surging of her hips urges me on. I drag my tongue up one side of her straining clit and down the other, again and again until she hisses with pleasure. I easily slide two fingers inside her at the same time I close my lips over the ripe bursting little bundle of nerves, sucking swirling flicking gently, then with more intensity, my lips and tongue applying increasing pressure. Her body already lightly sheened with sweat beneath the form-fitting cling of her dress, her mouth falls open in a snarling rictus as she gasps and pants raggedly, her grip tightening almost painfully in my hair. Responding to the urgency of her movements, I suckle even harder, my fingers stroking curling swiveling inside her astonishing heat. My face and wrist are bathed in her come, the scent of her surrounding and overwhelming me. I feel the tightening of the muscles in her back and legs, the elegance of the desperate dance of her hips against my mouth and fingers, the flutter in the rhythmic clutching of her walls. Slipping a third finger inside her while my tongue circles and purposefully goads her plumply rigid clit, I can hear a marked change in the tenor of her muffled cries. Her whole body seems to hold its breath, then with a hoarse shout she is wracked with convulsions, bucking into my mouth and riding my fingers savagely. Slowing but not stopping my thrusts and gradually lightening the pressure of my tongue, every slightest motion jerks yet another shudder from her body until she is quiveringly still.

Letting her leg slide off my shoulder, her foot drops heavily to the floor with a thump. Carefully I free my fingers and rise somewhat stiffly, gathering her into my arms as I reluctantly note the time. Clinging to me, still panting and sweating, she nestles her head into the curve of my neck and starts chuckling.

"What's so funny, chérie?" I kiss her softly on the temple, breathing in her scent sharpened with the tang of clean sweat.

"Nothing much, babe. I was just thinking that you might not want to shake the elevator dude's hand when he gets back in here."

I make a face. "Yes, you're probably right." Helping her to straighten out her dress, I remember to wipe my face with her torn panties that I had stowed in my pocket, then cradle her cheeks in my palms to kiss her blindly wherever my lips alight. "So," I say, dusting tiny kisses along her eyebrows, down her nose, along the line of her jaw, "you were expressing disappointment that our evening was so 'touristy' and 'conventional'?"

"You're not gonna let that go, are you," she says wryly, her hands sliding under the hem of my sweater to seek out my skin, circling and kneading lightly.

Sighing at her touch, I smile and bend to kiss her again, letting her taste herself in my mouth. "No. But it makes me wonder... "

"Yeeeeesss?"

"Perhaps we could write a very different kind of tour guide. It would take a great deal of research, though."

"Oh, Dr. Cormier," she murmurs into our kiss. "You know I am all about the research."

Next chapter is going to be a bit different, something I've been playing with for a while but never really had the right setting to use. Hope it works...