Heart pounding, we meet at the airport like excited kids. ‘What are you doing here?’ he teases. ‘Family in Paris,’ I play along, loud for prying ears. Our cover: colleagues on separate trips. He upgrades me to first class. Plush leather seats cradle us. Silk stockings whisper against my skin. I nestle close, his coat our shield.
His hand claims my thigh. Smooth, possessive. I squeeze his arm. Eyes lock—those light brown pools I drown in at climax. Pressure builds. Fingers trace bare skin above my stockings. Thighs part instinctively. Under the coat, he grazes my lace thong—black, sheer. Heat surges. Lips swell, wetten. He presses the mound, insistent.
The Privilege
No need to coax. I’m slick, aching. He slips under lace, dives in. Middle finger plunges into velvet warmth. I grip his bulge through pants, tapping rhythm. Divine sync. He adds a finger, fucks me steady despite cramped seats. Hips buck. Contractions grip him. Arm bruise-tight. I shatter silently, biting lip, cheeks aflame.
‘Your face glows, angel,’ he whispers. ‘You made me cum,’ I purr, burrowing closer. Rain lashes Paris. Taxi hugs us tight to the five-star hotel. Opulent lobby gleams. Separate rooms per mission rules. Phone rings. ‘Colleague, lend a robe?’ Giggle. ‘Come get it.’ Door opens. I’m in robe already, smirking. ‘No better excuse.’ Lips crash. Tongues tangle.
Robe drops. Nude save black patent heels. ‘Like?’ Arms at sides, offered. He drinks me in—full breasts, pert nipples, flat belly, trimmed mound. ‘Turn.’ Spine dips, ass firm, round. Hands roam. Neck bites. Nipple pinches. I arch, grinding back on his hardness.
The Excess
Bedroom mirror floor-to-ceiling, city lights beyond glass walls. He blindfolds me with robe belt. ‘Arms up, arch.’ Fingers ghost spine. Goosebumps. Nipples roll, pinch. Then—snap. Japanese clamps bite right peak. Sharp sting fades to throb. Left follows. Chain dangles, tightens on release. Ragged moan. ‘Yours,’ I gasp.
He grinds cock against ass. ‘Wet?’ ‘Dripping.’ Bend forward. Legs spread. Clamps swing, torment exquisite. Hand between cheeks. Pussy gapes, soaked. Circles clit. ‘Finger me!’ Smack—left ass cheek burns. Silence learned. Another on right. ‘No words, slut.’ Chain tug. Grimace. ‘Yes.’ Window perch now. Ass out, exposed to opposite towers.
Kneels. Tongue rims anus. Relaxes, yields. Fingers probe, scissor. Chain yanks sync rhythm. Breath hitches. Climax crashes—screams echo, ass clenches. Fingers withdraw, hole winks empty. Geisha balls slide in smooth. ‘Own your ass.’ Kneel. Suck him greedy. He erupts, floods throat. Swallow every drop. Kiss shares salty tang.
Clamps rip free—agony blaze. Sight returns, dazzled by suite lights. ‘Incredible.’ Finger silences. Shower beckons. Balls stay lodged. ‘Until I say.’ Legs quiver. I love him.
