“Lie back,” he said, calmly.
“No!” she said. They were twelve floors up!
“Trust me,” he said.
Unbelievingly, warily, she released her arms, and leant back. He held her waist. She lowered her head, and saw, upside down, the waking city in the early morning haze.
He pulled her, firmly, until the balustrade was under the small of her back. Then he reached between them to unbuckle and unzip his jeans.
He took her for the fourth time, with as little ceremony as he had before. She didn’t mind, exactly. She wanted him, and she was more than wet enough. But she was used — well, no, she wasn’t used to being asked. She was used to asking, to demanding, even.
She spread her arms wide in the cold fresh air, and felt his powerful movements deep within her.
“I need you to come, girl,” he said.
“This is good. Hard,” she said, dreamily. “I will.”
A few thrusts later, she did, flush racing across her goose-fleshed breasts.
And then, of course, surrendered to his relentless invasion, hanging loose over that high balustrade in the morning sun, her eyes now closed, she came again.
This was new, too. Always, before, she’d been in control. When she’d come, they’d stopped. If her partner hadn’t come, sometimes she’d blow him; sometimes, not. Going on after her own orgasm hadn’t occurred to her; it hadn’t occurred to her that it could be… well, like this.
After she had come another time — fourth? he lifted her, and set her on her feet, and turned her, and pushed her chest down onto his jacket, and took her from behind; harder, even, if that were possible.
Once more, she felt semen pulse in her.
He shuddered spastically, his weight falling onto hands which gripped the balustrade to either side of her, his breathing hoarse and heavy. After a moment, he stood, sliding out of her, stepped back, and laughed.
“Damn, you’re good, girl.”
She straightened, unsteadily, and turned, her breathing, too, still unsteady.
“Thank you,” she said.
She thanked him? Surely that wasn’t right. Surely it was for him to…
“Thank you,” she said, again.
“You’re good,” he said, again, stroking her hair. “On your knees, girl.”
She looked at him, puzzled, not understanding. He pushed down on her shoulders, and she knelt.
“Well,” he said, “clean me.”
His hand in her hair guided her mouth to his cock, and without thinking about it, she took it in. He held her head between his hands, and fucked her throat, gently, not forcefully, once, twice, three times.
He pulled her back to her feet — by her hair, again — and kissed her, deeply, tasting his semen in her mouth.
—–
He let her go, and fastened his jeans. He gripped her face between his hands, and grinned at her.
“Well, that was great,” he said, “but it’s time I was gone.”
“Wait!” she said, urgently, gripping his wrists. “We didn’t have protection! Do I need a morning after pill?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m snipped. It’s simpler. And I’m clean. Jennifer was confident you would be, too.”
“Jennifer said?” She was shocked.
“Yes,” he said, loosening his grip on her head. “I must go.”
“Wait!” she said. “Will I see you again?”
He looked at her, his head on one side. “Thursday evening?”
“If you like.”
“I’ll come at seven o’clock sharp,” he said. “I’ll bring a carry out. When I call you on the intercom, buzz me in to the building and leave your flat door ajar. I expect to find you kneeling, in your hallway, facing the door, naked.”
She shuddered, and flushed. “Seven o’clock, Thursday.” she said. She shuddered again. “Naked, kneeling, Yes.”
He was gone. She heard the flat door open, and close.
—–
She turned. His old leather jacket was still on the balustrade; she shrugged it on, the morning was still cold. It smelled of him, in a way that was intimate, and arousing. She leaned on the balustrade, and looked down.
Far below, the big green van reversed out of its parking space, turned, and disappeared out onto the road.