The elevator climbs to Frédéric’s penthouse, humming with tension. You’re rigid beside me. Eyes locked on the plastic tiles. Pulse hammering in your throat. You won’t look at me. Fear flickers in your averted gaze. Yet you came. Your black skirt rides high, teasing stocking tops. Blouse gaps open, more than ever. No words from me. I savor your unease. Hands twist nervously. Guilt wars with victimhood in you.
Doors slide open. You slip past him, no glance. Drop into the armchair by me. Bare smiles through talk. Champagne flute drained like a last rite. Doubt gnaws me. Why agree? You know my fantasies, but nothing planned tonight. Frédéric troubles you. I see it. Those stolen looks he gives. I invited this, testing. For you? For me? No deals made.
The Fever
He commands the room. Compliments your beauty. Elevates you. Charm sinks in. Our eyes meet—yours lost, swirling. Control slips. Body heats with want, mind resists. You plead silently. I hold your fate. Rescue you? Or feed the fire? Even I waver.
No words. Frédéric kneels at your feet. Slips off your heels. Tongue traces your stockings up your legs. Eyes shut. Surrender. Head lolls back. Breath quickens, ragged.
Shock hits me. You and him. Seamless. No talk. I freeze, mesmerized. Your fingers tangle in his hair. Thighs part. His mouth climbs, kissing inner thighs. String bikini glimpsed, then slid down. Your hands rip open blouse. Breasts spill free, nipples hard. You crave chest touches. But he dives between legs, nearing your smooth pussy. Moans escape. Hips buck. Body begs.
I watch, pulse thundering. Imagine his tongue on your slick lips, swollen clit. Recall your taste, musky sweet. My cock strains, aching hard. Heart pounds wild.
His hands claim your tits. They swell under grip. You arch, offering all. Tongue probes your wetness. Mouth agape, pleasure builds.
Spasms hit fast. Orgasm rips through. Eyes open to me, glistening. Tears? Smile invites. I rise, refill flute. Drip champagne on your lips. Drops trail cheeks, chest. I lick them off, tongue reclaiming your hot skin.
The Blaze
Frédéric sheds shirt, pants. Hikes your skirt fully. You’re exposed, intoxicating. My cock throbs painfully. I circle behind, hands on belly, tits, shoulders. Lean over, our tongues clash fierce. You clutch my neck. Split in two—heart mine, body his.
Legs hook his waist, demanding. Arms lock me for kisses. Glimpse condom rolled on. He thrusts in slow. You arch, gasp. Kisses rage desperate. You crave faster, but he rules. Moans turn screams. Nails dig my skin.
He breaks. Pounds deep, brutal. Kisses shatter. Long cries rip from you. Arms crush me.
Collapse. Shudders quake you. You scream, cum hard. Frédéric roars primal, emptying. You ignore him. Legs fold tight. Kisses resume, endless, tongues lost.
He watches our merge, dresses slow. You button blouse. String vanishes in purse. Skirt smoothed. We stare, stunned. You grab my hand, ignore him. Pull me out. Door clicks shut.
You shove me against it, dark hall. Kneel. Hands yank my pants. Cock springs free, engorged. You swallow whole. Savage. Body grinds door. Does he hear my grunts? Tongue ravages shaft, balls. Deep throat, hands claw ass. Pleasure surges. I quake. Cum explodes, flooding your mouth. Fight not to crumple.
You zip me, rise. Fevered kisses. Lips to ear: ‘Thank you… let’s go home.’ Hand in mine, elevator down. Skin still burns. We won’t return. Ashes smolder unique.