The City – part 1 This city makes me feel small, yet powerful. The skyscrapers loom over my head in ominous silence and yet, with my heels clicking decisively on the sidewalk, I feel like I own all this massive real estate and I make the rules. The dinner was exquisite, mostly due to the attentive and obedient boy with me. His behavior immaculate, his dress impressive, his scent intoxicating, I’m now in quite the dilemma. There is nothing to punish him for, no mishap to correct. Instead I have to come up with a different idea of how to spend the evening. But the sense of power coursing through me leaves me calm and collected. He’s mine to toy with however I please, even if it is pleasure, because he’s given himself to me for this night.

The thoughts of mutual pleasure paint a smile on my face and I look at him to see if his face is reflecting the same satisfaction. He is focused on our surroundings, watching for potential danger and accidents. His concentration momentarily broken by my gaze, he smiles at me, a quick yet genuinely happy expression. I return to my thoughts of pleasure and settle into his arm. He knows where we’re going and he’ll get us there in one piece, of that I have no doubt. Therefore, I have the rest of our walk to make my plans.

The walk through the lobby and the elevator ride are quiet and tension-filled. He knows we’re going to play, but it’s been a while since we did and he has no idea what to expect. I’m sure thoughts of canes, baby clothespins, or even paracord are flashing in his mind. I have all those tools with me, and I’ll use them if I feel the need, of which he is fully aware. I can feel him almost vibrate in anticipation. I take a deep breath in, inhaling his sweet scent and the energy with it, letting it out slowly. As the doors slide open on our floor, I move into the hallway and walk determinedly toward our door. He opens the door to the suite and I enter first, depositing my purse in the foyer.

“A drink please, light ice,” I say as he comes in a closes the door. I head straight for the floor-to-ceiling bank of windows overlooking the cityscape. The lights and muffled sounds of the city 40 floors below are breathtaking and reinforce the feeling of power I’ve been reveling in all night. He approaches me from behind and hands me my drink, staying to my right and enjoying the view also. He has made a drink for himself, to calm his considerable nerves I’m sure, and he drinks it quickly as if to speed up its effects. I sip my drink and the cool liquid slides down my throat and starts a fire in my belly. The warmth is inviting and invigorating. When he’s taken 3 large gulps, I take his drink from him and sit it alongside mine on a side table nearby. I turn to him and encircle him with my arms letting my fingers play in his hair. The soft, silky locks are short but not so short that I can’t wrap my fingers into a fist at the back of his head. He lowers his face to mine and kisses me softly. I am not in a soft mood and so I push back more insistently and twist my fist in his hair until he opens his mouth to me and I taste the whiskey on his tongue. I slide my tongue along the front of his, just shy of the piercing, and then withdraw from the kiss.

“Back against the window,” I say in a low, clear, calm voice. He complies quickly yet smoothly. His suit jacket is already off, leaving his tie and shirt exposed. He dressed this way just for me, to compliment my short yet flattering dress and high heels. I press my body against his and undo his tie. He leans down to kiss me again and I back off.

“Uh uh, not until I want another kiss. You are not in charge of this,” my voice holds just an edge of warning and authority and my hand flattens on his chest. I want him to understand that even though I’m going to deliver pleasure, it’s still on my terms. His hands try to move around my waist and down my hips.

“Hands against the glass and keep them there until I move them,” he smiles and complies, with a little huff for effect. I finish undoing the knot in his tie and slide it from around his neck. I use it to rub his arms, press against his chest, and run through his legs lightly brushing his manhood. I can tell he’s beginning to get hard but he’s not fully erect yet. This teasing will fix that.

“Lean your head down please,” I say as I reach up and tie his tie around his head, covering his eyes. I push his head back to the glass and unbutton the top two buttons on his dress shirt. I pull his shirt out of his pants and leave it free all the way around. I rub my nails down his chest before settling my hands in a grip on either side of his shirt buttons. A quick jerk and the buttons from the shirt make a distinct clattering noise on the tile floor. His breath catches when he hears the pocket knife click open and he goes still as I slide the blade between his skin and his undershirt. I open the shirts and let the air from the room caress his chest. His nipples harden when the cool air hits them and I rake my nails down his skin from his collarbone to his waistband. The ribbons of red that paint his chest are only shadows of what I’ll do this night.

I push his shirts off his shoulders and down his arms, pausing only to let him wriggle his hands out of the cuffs and replace them on the glass. My hands roam all over his chest, abdomen, arms and neck. I kiss, I nibble, I lick, I scratch, and I bite my way from his neck to his waist on the front. I move him slightly away from the glass and turn him around, his cheek and chest now pressed to the glass. I begin my machinations again on his back, starting with nails and moving to teeth. His sounds are urging me on, sighs and groans and deep intakes of breath. Each sound makes me hungrier for his skin and his sweet scent. I turn him around again, once more placing his hands against the glass. I rub my face in his chest and his neck like a cat scent marking. In the end I couldn’t tell which was his scent and which was my own.

I unbuckle his belt and undo the buttons and zipper on his pants. I open the fly and pull his cock out through his boxers. It is at full attention and shiny at the tip from precum. He is so ready for pleasure, so ripe for the picking that I have to debate whether I’m ready to pleasure him or whether I’d like to tease him some more. I can hear his breath, shallow, almost non-existent like he’s holding it, waiting for me to move. I use some of my own saliva to moisten my palm and rub him from head to base, twisting along the shaft. The sigh that he releases is loud and long. His head lulls back and forth, tilted toward the ceiling, and his mouth hangs open. I’m in a squatting position in front of him, my dress riding up obscenely. I decide to rub my clit while I jerk him. I have no intention of orgasm, I just want to get the sensation started for the evening. He is starting to move his hips in time with my strokes. When he is straining at the end of my stroke, I stand up and place my fingers in his mouth.

“Do you like the taste of me, boy? Do you want to taste it for yourself?” He laps at my fingers at first then sucks on them as if they are the last thing he’ll ever taste. I haven’t stopped stroking his hard cock but his attention is momentarily pulled in another direction. His marble hardness begins to give way to a smooth softness with his distraction. No matter, he’ll be back at full strength soon enough.

“Oh yes,” he says, breathlessly. “Please let me taste you.” I laugh, a short giggle really.

“But what if I want to taste you first?” The smile on my face is evident in my words.

“Then you may do whatever you desire, Miss,” he says with a sigh, as if he’s been shown his Christmas present but told he can’t have it until Christmas day.

“And so I shall,” I say as I slither down his body again. This time, I settle on my knees and take him quickly into my mouth. His softness allows me to get his whole shaft into my mouth and I make the most of this rare occasion. I slide my tongue around his shaft, moving toward the head. I hit that spot right under the head that makes him shiver every time with the flat of my tongue and am rewarded with that shiver. I work with only my lips and tongue, savoring every texture and flavor. The smooth skin of his head, the rough ridges on the sides, and the soft underside all delight me as if I’m feeling them for the first time. I let him pop out of my mouth and start to lavish his shaft and balls with my tongue. His hands are balling into fists against the glass, he is gasping and moaning, and his hips are thrusting forward and back. I return to the task at hand, literally, by placing my right hand on his shaft. Using my own saliva for lubrication, I stroke him as I suck the head, following my hand down the shaft and back up again. The twisting motion is hitting all his favorite places and his breathing gets faster and faster. I hear him whimper and moan, saying my name in hushed tones.

“Oh Miss, may I please come?” He sounds so desperate, as if to tell me if I say no, he may do it anyway. But tonight is not about denial, it’s about pleasure, and I give him the affirmative tap on his abdomen. He buckles in the middle and leans down over me as he loses himself to the wave of his orgasm. His hot cum shoots again and again and again into my mouth, coating my tongue and my throat. I don’t stop my motions, I continue to suck and stroke as he gives me more and more of his desire and lust. Each shot comes with its own hip thrust and groan so that the room fills with his rhythm. When he finally relaxes, I slow and stop my motions, allowing him to lean against the glass and slide to the floor. He is panting, his head is rocking back and forth, and his hands are limp at his sides.

“Here is your drink. You have five minutes to recuperate and then we start round 2.” I place his drink next to his hand, slip the tie off his eyes, and walk slowly to the bed. I sit on the end of it, leaning back on my hands and watch him slowly come back to reality. He takes a large gulp of his drink and looks down at his ruined shirts with a smile. There is a wet spot on his pants, from me most likely, and that makes his smile bigger. He turns his head to find me watching him and his look changes. His eyes go from glazed to focused, the sharp focus of lust and desire. I smile and cock my right eyebrow up at him. Round 2 promises to be as fulfilling as round 1.