A World for Sara
She spread her legs and arched her back to lift her ass a little. That was Sara’s way to invite her man inside her, to tell him “This is yours, use it as you wish!”
Oh, she loved the feeling of those few seconds she waited for him to touch her. She never knew what was going to come, until his fingers grazed her ass, or her clit, or slid all the way inside her wetness. Sometimes, instead of her sex, her man would smack her ass, sometimes e would look at her for minutes, and she would feel embarrassed knowing he could see her wetness gathering between her lips, her body trembling in anticipation.
It was part of her pleasure, knowing he was having fun with her. That’s why Sara moaned so hard at each of his touches: she really, genuinely loved all of it.
Her eyes were now open, fixated on the outside. From the window in front of her, she could see the world, and the world could – if it wanted – see her.
It was thrilling.
Sara felt his breath close to her and smiled, this time knowing a little in advance what was coming. She moaned, closing her eyes again and slightly opening her lips, as his tongue slid from her clit up, pushing between her lips, tasting the juices that were copiously pouring out of her, then up again until it met her little rosebud, that he caressed and lapped for some time as if there wasn’t anything he liked more in the world than feasting on her, than preparing that woman for himself.
Each and every of his movement, Sara felt shivers as the pleasure took possession of her body. The hotel room he had booked this time was well heated, and yet goosebumps run through all her white, smooth skin.
After a while, the man stood up behind her. She felt his fingers grazing her lips, spreading them. Again, those fingers sliding in and out of her, as if the man couldn’t resist to touch her, even if he had evidently other plans.
Nevertheless, after only a couple of seconds, his fingers made room for something else, something she knew very well. Sara could recognize that cock among all the other she had had in her life. It’s rough texture, it’s natural slightly curve that, once inside, made it feel like it was way bigger than it really was.
She moaned again and wriggled when the man pushed, a little too abruptly for her tastes, his cock all the way inside her. From that position, its slightly curved tip could touch her always in new ways. Sometimes, her pleasure could switch to pain and again bring her on the edge of an orgasm the moment after. She could never know what to expect, from him.
Moreover, there were those people below, in the square. Sara could see them doing all their little, insignificant things: the gardener was watering the plants; a couple was talking on a bench; a man in a suit was running out of the building, directed towards a taxi parked in front of the hotel. He could be late for a meeting, she wondered.
She felt was special: she had a man that willing to cope with her kinks, actually encouraging her. And that man was now fucking her in front of that window, aware of the fact that someone could have seen them, aware of the fact that Sara may have wanted it to happen, may have liked it.
Sara focused on him, for a moment.
She appreciated his long, slow thrusts. She appreciated his strong grip on her hips and the way he guided her. She appreciated that he was, evidently, listening to her and adapting his rhythm to her breath becoming heavier, her moans louder.
But most of all, she thought as her awareness shifted again to the people outside, she appreciated his silence. He didn’t say a word: he let her enjoy her view on the world, he let her enjoy her fantasy, her need to be naked there, in front of that window.
And even when she came and, later, lay exhausted on the sofa in the same position she had been fucked, he didn’t say a word.
He left, dressed back and disappeared, leaving her alone, with the world.
