He kept his grip on her throat, but moved around behind her. He could see her shoulders moving as she breathed, and could see that her breaths were becoming shorter. He gently eased her forward slightly, until she put two sweat-slicked hands onto the glass, leaning against the window and looking down to the riverfront walk. She saw couples huddled under umbrellas, lights like tearstains from the far side of the river, and winking red eyes from the tops of the towers. And she felt him unfasten the front of her combats, and snake a hand down inside them.
Kyle’s mouth was inches from her ear, as his hand slid slowly down towards her cunt. She felt her hips flex involuntarily as his fingertip brushed over her clit, then slowly sidle back up and press gently against it. She bit her lip to hold back any noise.
“Sensitive little slut, aren’t we? I noticed that last time. If I was a nice guy, I’d just play around with your clit all night and watch you cum. You’re very entertaining when you cum. You kind of lose control over any limbs that aren’t fastened to something. And you’re an eye-roller. Your pupils tilt back for a second just before the big release. See? I notice these things. Does Luke notice them?”
The mention of her husband made her flinch, as he knew it would. Here and now, with his fingertip pressed gently against her clit, potentially in view of hundreds of people – if only they would look up, look across, look in, at their whim – it was incongruous. It reminded her that she was fucking around, that there was someone she’d promised her life to, and it wasn’t the man breathing fuck-words into her ear. Kyle liked her discomfort. He made a mental note to mention Luke whenever he thought she was getting comfortable with this. It was a zero-sum game – he maintained his equilibrium provided he kept her off-balance.
“That’s right, Sarah. Hubby’s at home, while you’re here getting your clit seen to. And you chose to come here. You chose to fuck around on him, because there’s a need in you that you can’t stop anymore. The genie’s out of the bottle.”
His left hand slid up her midriff, snaking across the stomach muscles below her shining skin. Her body felt hot to the touch. He could feel her muscles move beneath her skin as her breathing remained agitated. His fingers slid underneath her tee shirt and slowly rolled it up her body. In the reflection of the glass he could see her nipples pressed tight against the fabric, and then exposed to the world. He took a quick glance at her face. The little bitch had her eyes closed.
He grabbed her hair again and tugged her head back. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but she held her position. Her mouth was open and, as he held it there, he longed for a camera – a video camera preferably. Hmmmm.
“Did I tell you to close your eyes, Sarah? Well? Fucking did I?”
His voice hissed with anger and impatience. She was briefly worried that he was really angry and would tell her to get out. A small part of her mind wondered why that disturbed her – this arrogant bastard exposing her, treating her like his personal fuck-toy. But another part of her mind realised that her only concern right now was the potential withdrawal of this delicious feeling of being controlled, of being used, by someone who knew how to do it right.
She shook her head, as much as his insistent grip would allow, and he let her hang her head forward. She felt his foot against her ankle, nudging her leg until she moved it, closing her legs tightly together. The angle made his finger press harder against her clit, though he hadn’t moved his hand at all. She gave a sharp intake of breath, and had to fight the urge to close her eyes and just let the orgasm shake through her body. As it was, her body was taut, stretched like a spider’s web, and under his control.
Kyle used the silence to consider his next move.
He pressed himself against her back, allowing her to feel his erect cock through their clothing. He pressed it against the cleft of her ass, allowing her to sense how well it fitted the groove. His left hand tugged at her combats and, after a second tug, they slipped over her thighs, and slid slowly down to her ankles. Now his cock was pressing through his trousers to bare flesh. She felt a slight breeze from some ventilation point at the window, which let a gentle draft of air drift past her thighs.
“That’s better Sarah. That’s what you secretly wanted, wasn’t it? Anyone looking into the apartment window will see a slut exposing herself, and waiting for a guy to either spank her clit until she falls over, or stick his prick inside her. They’ll see a nasty little whore who doesn’t care which one it is, along as he gets on with it. Because she can’t fucking wait to cum, no matter who sees her do it. That hits a little fantasy spot, doesn’t it?”
She looked through the glass and their eyes met in the reflection. She closed her eyes slowly to signify ‘yes’, and a thousand messages spun between them in a vortex of unspoken permissions. Her consent drifted to him and, as it did so, her breathing slowed slightly. As though, in yielding the last vestiges of self-determination, she felt release. She dropped her head again to the subjugated position, seeing only the sheen on her thighs.
She sensed that he was kneeling now, behind her. The grip of her hair had gone, but her scalp still tingled as her hair fell slowly back into place. Again, that rush along the top of her spine as her skin became alive, even to her own touch. It felt like the nerves were pushing through towards the surface. His finger was still on her clit and still exerting the same, constant, unyielding pressure. She felt so alive and aware of her body, that she could have made herself cum just by closing her eyes and wishing. Never, never before, anything like this.
Kyle regarded her smooth skin for a moment. Her back blended smoothly into her ass, the muscle tone making it one elegant curve. He could see her body moving slightly as she breathed, and he noted that her breaths were more even now. She was getting too relaxed, too comfortable. She wasn’t here to be comfortable. She was here to tread a very fine line between what she wanted, and what he felt she deserved. She was here to feel the adrenalin of anxiety and shock.
With his left hand, he slowly prised apart her ass cheeks, and blew cool air onto her asshole. At first, she shuddered a little, and he thought she was going to squirm away, but she recovered enough to stay still. He blew again, just gentle air like a summer breeze.
She was still silently enjoying it, when he pushed an ice cube into her ass.
He saw her thigh muscles tense. Initially, the ice was so cold that it didn’t register. It pulverised the nerves inside her ass to the point where they couldn’t register or communicate. He could sense the confusion of her brain as the ice entered, the incongruity of anything going in rather than out, the acute temperature difference between the ice, and the heat of her body. She felt the sheer shock of the unexpected. He smiled as she lifted herself onto the tips of her toes, and swayed slightly towards the glass. And then, as she settled back down onto the balls of her feet, he smiled again. Because she realised that not only was the sensation not unpleasant, it was wickedly wonderful. And she wanted to feel it again.