Alone in my penthouse, city skyline glittering through floor-to-ceiling glass. Children at Swiss boarding school. Husband sealing deals downtown. I drift, craving thrill. Bedroom calls—new rose-gold vibrator from Paris awaits. Doorbell chimes, crystal clear.
I open the heavy oak door. It’s him. I know that smile. No words. He grabs my wrist, pins it above my head against cool marble wall. Lips brush mine, soft invasion. Heart races. His body presses in—hard cock strains through wool trousers. Heat floods me. I melt into the kiss, eyes shut.
The Privilege
Gentle hand strokes my hip, slips under cashmere sweater. Wrist still locked, dominance light but firm. No resistance from me. Kisses trail neck. Fingers climb to lace bra, cup breast. Breaths sync, deepen. Excitement surges—delicate yet edged with force. Tension delicious.
He pulls back. Eyes lock. Doubt flickers. I won’t let morals intrude. Dreamed of this too long. I shove him against opposite wall, basin grinding his. Fingers fly over silk shirt buttons. Torse revealed: sculpted, sun-kissed under chandelier glow.
Hands roam his chest, dip to hips. Discovery thrills—every ridge, every curve. His hesitation vanishes. Palms grip my ass through leather skirt, squeeze. Sharp tug, my hips buck forward. Shirt falls. His hand dives back under sweater. Touches tender, precise. Pace slows.
Sweater off. Kisses descend neck to nipples, freed from Chantilly lace. Sighs escape as he sucks, nips peaks. Bare chests crush—his bronze skin warm, silken. Muscles shadow-dance in skylight haze. Hands wander wild. Lips graze, bite. Pussy throbs, soaked silk thong pulses with heartbeat.
Fingertips tease above belt, dipping in. He shivers. Jean button yields—but he seizes wrists, slams me to wall. He leads. Skirt hikes. Hand snakes under thong, finds slick folds. I arch, moans stifled. Fingers masterful: circle clit, probe lips, slide in. Deeper, faster. Two now, grazing g-spot. Edge nears—I clench.
Thong drags down sheer stockings. Firm spin—face to marble. Skirt up. Palms worship ass cheeks, every inch. Finger traces slit, presses rosebud. Explosion builds—I love it, but hold back. His zipper rasps. Pants pool at knees. I stay put, owned. His raw masculinity peaks.
Boxer drops. Condom crinkles. Cock glides between thighs, teases slit. Thick, veined—promising. Thrusts pin me flat. Fills utterly. Each pound lifts me; hands vise hips. Hot breath on neck. Groans swallowed.
The Excess
He withdraws, spins me. Kisses fierce. Pause needed, yet I burn. I sink, lips claim shaft. Tongue swirls glans. Hands knead balls. He grips hair, pulls back. Kneels, lays me on plush hall rug. Legs spread. Eyes locked, enters slow. Hands anchor hips. Rhythm builds—deep, relentless.
Orgasm crashes. Silent pact breaks—cries echo off glass. Pussy clamps cock, hips buck. He follows, buried deep. Collapses, kisses linger inside. Aftershocks ripple. Smiles shared.
We lie, spent on Frette sheets dragged near. Silence mixes bliss, guilt. I own it. Him? Lingers.
Whisper: “What now?”
“Leave. Wait ten. Ring again. Normal hello.”
He goes. Returns. Facade resumes.
Secret sealed. Future meets crackle unspoken fire. Someday, I’ll knock on his door.
The Discretion: Back to velvet sofas, champagne flutes half-full on onyx bar. City hums below walls of glass—impenetrable. Our pact: silence. Tension simmers, desire sharpens him eternally.
