One Night - Erotica

I had butterflies in my stomach, a queasy feeling of nerves and anticipation as I sat on the platform waiting for my train to come in. Each time an announcement came over the tannoy I jumped, startled out of my reverie. I wanted to pace up and down, wring my hands or something just to release the nervous tension, but I resisted and instead made myself assume the ladylike position you'd demanded, and that I had been practicing all week.

Your email had come as a bit of a surprise. You'd never been so terse with me before. As my companion, you'd written I expect you to behave appropriately, as you will be reflecting me. A sluttishly dressed girl will not be tolerated. You will comport yourself as a lady accompanying a gentleman to a high-class restaurant should behave. If you fail to do so, you will feel the back of my hand. When sitting, knees should be together. We don't gobble our food. And nice girls do as they are told.

I didn't know how to feel...but my body did. I felt my nipples harden and the fabric of my bra moving across them made me shiver. But I took in your words, and had selected my outfit carefully, hoping that it was what you expected from a 'nice girl'.

And now I sat, waiting, knees together, hands resting in my lap, my stillness concealing the nerves within.

Eventually - and it seemed like forever - my train came, I got on, found my seat, and waited again, fleetingly reading my book, then staring aimlessly out the window. As the journey came to an end I felt my heart start to beat faster and as the station came into view it was almost beating out of my chest. I checked my make up, my hair - soft, smoky eyes with Bettie Paige flicks and red lips - as close to perfect as I could make it. But still I felt so scared that I almost wanted to call the whole thing off.

You'd told me you would meet me off the train - I didn't really know London, I'd said, and you'd laughed and told me a gentleman would meet a lady anyway, and told me to look for a black fedora hat in the crowded station. And now the time had come for me to look. I gathered my weekend bag and other bits and pieces and stepped off the train, my seamed stockings and fuck-me heels catching a little attention amongst the post-work bustle of the station.

The conductor rushed to my aid as I went to lift my bag down from the train and i marveled at how it had never happened when I wore my usual day to day uniform of jeans and boots. There must be something in this feminine dressing, I thought to myself. I was so distracted and nervous that I didn't notice a figure step out of the crowd buzzing around me and walk over to me until I turned, looking for somewhere to wait, and stepped right into you.

You caught my arm as I teetered for a moment on the black patent leather skyscraper heels, and your other hand steadied me around my waist. I laughed slightly, a high, embarrassed giggle, and looked up for the first time.
Your eyes were magnetic, compelling. Under the hard white light of the platform they gleamed like green jewels, and with the former's cold glitter. I was transfixed. You were close enough that I could breathe in your aftershave, the orange blossom and juniper overlying something deeper and darker - your own smell adding that musky note. I felt myself quiver and my body respond, the heat rushing to my cunt as I blushed pink. Even with heels on you could easily look down on me, and your gaze seemed to analyze each aspect of me, penetrating me to my core.

You leaned forward and broke the spell, whispering in my ear "Nice girls don't stand there with their mouths open." I blinked, like a rabbit in the headlights, and quickly closed my mouth, glancing away and down for a moment, before you slid two fingers under my chin and tilted my head back, your own lips meeting mine as you kissed me hard, hungrily, your hand on my waist pulling me into you, your other hand going to the back of my neck and holding me in to the kiss. You bit down gently on my bottom lip, bringing a little gasp of pain/pleasure from me before releasing me and smiling.

"Well done, little girl. You certainly look the part." Your voice was deep, the burr of your accent tempered with years of education and employment outside your home town, and once again I felt myself blush - this time at the praise. You took me by the hand, picking up my overnight bag, and asked me where my hotel was: I told you and you lead me off without a second question until we were out of the station building and into the dusk of the city.
We made small talk as you guided me the ten minutes' walk to my hotel, your hand never leaving mine. I checked in and we went to my room to drop off the bags.

I fumbled with the key in the lock, my fear getting to me a little. I steadied myself, one hand resting on the woodwork and finally got the door open, painfully aware of how stupid I must look. I pushed it open and stepped in, reaching for my bag but you'd already picked it up and encouraged me forward into the room with a little swat on my arse.

One glance was all that was really needed to take in the room. It was nothing special, really - double bed, wardrobe, armchair, desk. It's only stand-out feature was the fireplace, even if the cheerily burning logs were a modern halogen picture representation. I took off my coat, throwing it carelessly onto the bed. The warmth of the fire was genuine and I stood in front of it for a moment, the chill of the early spring dusk evaporating from me.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the simulated flames. But a second later I heard your steps on the thick pile carpet and you were behind me, one hand over my mouth, the other pressing me towards the armchair, gently but firmly. At the point where I felt it knock into my shins the pressure on my back changed and you pushed me down over the chair, releasing your grip on my mouth. Pressed down until my face was crushed into the leather, I felt you stroking my stockinged leg, one hand caressing and teasing through the silk, tracing the seam higher and higher until your fingers brushed the hem of my dress. Then, in one swift movement you snagged the fabric and pulled it up and over my round arse until the fabric gathered around my waist.

I gasped and went to stand up. One hand forced me down again and without a word you delivered a hard slap to my pale skin. I cried out with surprise and pain, once more trying to stand. This time it was a shove, my face hitting the leather as two more ringing spanks hit. This time I didn't move, my cries muffled by the upholstry. Two more spanks now, one to each cheek. Then more, your hand rising and falling rhythmically, each stroke forcing another breathy gasp or moan from my lips. And then you were stroking the already rising welts through my deep red silk panties. You slid one finger between my thighs and I heard a small chuckle as you felt the wetness just beginning to dampen the smooth fabric.

I felt the heat of your body close to me as you pressed against my sore arse, the cloth rough against the exposed tops of my thighs above the stockings. Your hardness was apparent and I couldn't help but move against you slightly. You gave a low, rumbling growl, saying "Little whore. You're not getting this now." There was a slight pause "We have a dinner reservation to get to." I heard you step away and yelped as you pulled my skirt down again. "Come on then, girl. I won't wait all day."

I struggled to my feet, shaking slightly, and hurried to gather my bag and coat. You held me by the shoulders for a moment, at arms' reach, and studied me."Yes," you said. "You've done well. You'll do."

Once more you took my hand and lead me out the room, taking the key from my unresisting hand and locking the door behind us and dropping it into your coat pocket. "Hey," I started, but you silenced me with one hand over my mouth. You leaned in close, your breath hot on my skin. "I told you once already. Good girls do as they are told. Tonight, you are mine, my whore, and you will respect that." I shivered with the force of your words, spoken softly but each one dripping with ire. I nodded. You smiled at me, a moment of warmth which made beam with pleasure.

And then that guiding hand took mine again and you drew me along though the hotel and out onto the street, into the descending London night. The streets were busy enough - it was still early and sober-suited businessmen rubbed shoulders with tourists looking for a nightspot and the odd couple, holding hands and strolling along in their own world. You guided me expertly through the crowds, your hand never leaving mine.

We walked for ten minutes or so, you pointing out interesting sights or places you'd been. I couldn't help but enjoy myself and relax, even though the heels you'd asked me to wear were hardly comfortable. We got to the restaurant and you opened the door for me. It was a sushi bar, sleek modern decor mixing with traditional Japanese elements. A kimono-ed greeter took your name and lead us to the waiting area, and we sat on luxurious cushions on the low benches.

In my deep green dress, my pale skin almost glowing under the soft lights and the dark tendrils of my hair just stroking my shoulders I sat as delicately as I could, nervous once again until I caught you looking at me, your eyes devouring every curve and angle of my shape. You leaned in. "My little whore" you breathed, "you look utterly fuckable." I gasped, then tried to swallow the sound back into my throat. I was off guard. You gave a low chuckle and leaned in even closer. "And, you filthy slut, I am going to fuck you tonight. Just something for you to think about." You smiled at me, and then at the greeter who had come over to show us to the table.

The food was nothing less than excellent; fresh, light, and each morsel was elegantly presented. I thought of myself - elegantly presented indeed. You fed me tidbits, poured green tea, and we chatted about politics, art, history... I began to relax. I began to forget myself and simply enjoy the moment. But when I slouched down in my seat a sharp pinch on my thigh made me jump and I almost - almost - yelped, and straightened up immediately. You smiled coldly and asked for the bill. We paid and left, you taking my hand again.

This time, we didn't have a long walk.

We went a different direction out of the restaurant. The streets had emptied now out a little now, and you walked beside me, holding my arm through yours. We hadn't gone far when you pulled me aside, almost knocking me off my feet as you dragged me down a side street, past deeply-shadowed doorways and through clouds of steam oozing from vents in the walls. One more hard tug and my heels skittered on cobble stones into a secluded yard. The sounds of the street were muffled and the only light was a single street lamp, serving mostly to deepen the shadows around the courtyard.

You spun me around and with a sharp step pressed me up against the wall, the rough stone grazing my skin through the stockings. Your forearm pressed against my throat, forcing my head back and I gasped for air. "You gorgeous, filthy little fuckslut." you growled, "did you like dressing up for me, hmm? Being a lady?" I could barely gasp an assent. "I know better though." You released the pressure on my throat and I gulped air gratefully, my knees almost buckling. Only your restraining arm around my waist kept me from falling for a moment. Then your free hand was grasping for my skirt, pulling and hitching it up over my stocking tops until it was once more around my waist. I mumbled "no, not here, please", trying to cover myself.

The slap caught me completely off guard. It was hard - so hard it brought tears to my eyes immediately and almost knocked the wind from me. "Little bitch!" your deep voice dripped with disdain. "*what* did I tell you? Good girls - " you ripped my skirt up again, " - do as they are told." I whimpered, the moisture still glittering in my eyes, as you trailed fingers up over my thighs, momentarily stopping to caress the silky tops of my stockings, before moving up to rest over my pubic mound. The heat of your skin made me shiver and I felt my wetness rise as I slightly spread my legs.

"That's my fuck slut." Your fingers pressed down slightly, sliding across the soft membrane of my underwear, down further until you felt the valley between my lips and pressed in more firmly, and your low murmur of lust got louder as you felt the round bead of my clit hood piercing resting just over my centre. One finger circled around, flicking the bead against my clit and I drew a short hissing breath at the touch, tilting my hips forward in a tacit invitation. Your murmur became a growl and with a quick, rough movement you ripped the flimsy fabric down, exposing my soft, smooth-shaved mound. You took a moment to take in the sight, hunger in your eyes.

The cold night air brought goose-pimples to the exposed flesh and chilled the wetness beading on my lips.

"Fuck," you breathed "fuck, that's perfect, you little whore." You pressed into me again, trapping me between your body and the wall. Your hard cock strained at the barring cloth and you ground your hips against my sex. I gave a soft moan of my own, heat building between my thighs, my pulse racing now. One hand forced it's way between us and you pushed my thighs apart, fingers roughly seeking the wetness of my cunt and then slipping inside me. My cry of ecstasy echoed around the yard and encouraged you - a second finger joined the first, your thumb rubbing my clit as you continued to grind against me, your own pleasure evident as you snarled in my ear, over and over "Dirty little cunt, finger fucked in the street like the whore you are. And you're going to cum for me, aren't you - all over my hand and then, bitch...then you're going to lick it clean."

That drove me mad; my hips bucked wildly against you, my gasps and moans becoming sharper as I let myself go, reveling in your touch, the rough scratch of your beard on my soft skin as you kissed and bit my neck and shoulders, the heat of your body, each growl you made running through me like electricity. I wanted you. I needed you. "Please" I mumbled through my pleasure. "Please - take me. I need you so much, please fuck me." I begged, pleaded with you, but you laughed. "Not now, girl. You have to wait for that. Now be good and cum for me." With that you bit down - hard - on the flesh of my shoulder, and I screamed, knees buckling underneath me and a flood of nectar soaking your hand, running down my thighs and coating my delicate silk stockings. My orgasm was intense, waves washing over me and for a long moment I was hardly even aware of your arm around my waist supporting me.

When I came to my senses you were standing close, your erection bulging through the dark gray trousers of your suit. You raised your cum-soaked hand to your lips and tasted, just grazing the tip of one glistening finger along your lips. "Mmm. Fuck, you taste good, kitten." Your hand reached out towards me. "Clean me up now, there's a good girl." I lurched forward, hungrily taking your fingers, one by one, into my mouth, sucking and licking every single drop of the creamy nectar from your skin, my murmurs of delight felt through your flesh. "Good girl," you said in your Scottish burr, and I felt myself blush with the praise.

When you were convinced I had cleaned you well enough you pulled away, taking my hair in your hand and pulling me upward as I made a mewling protest which was barely even half meant. You kissed me hard again then took my hand, grinning as you lead me back onto the main street and hailed us a taxi.

Your arm around me was comforting and I leaned into you now. A taxi pulled up and you opened the door for me before getting in yourself. I rested my head against your chest as you gave the driver the address of my hotel and the car swept into the night. I closed my eyes and breathed you in, the orange blossom-juniper-musk now familiar and reassuring. You stroked my leg, teasing higher until you felt the wetness on my thighs, cold now from the night air. I looked up to see you once again tasting my cum, eyes half closed in rapt delight and I slowly slid my hand down and across your body to gently caress the swelling bulge of your cock. Your mouth opened in a silent moan. But the journey was over too quickly; you paid, and we entered the hotel.

You lead me straight past the reception area and back down our earlier path to my room, unlocking the door and leading me in. You shut it, and locked it behind us, the Do Not Disturb sign hanging outside. I sat on the bed, momentarily lost and unsure of myself. I watched you take off your coat and then your suit jacket, hanging them carefully over the back of the arm chair. I coloured, remembering my earlier encounter with it. And then you walked towards me, undoing your tie until you stood right in front of me.

You caressed my face, stroked my hair for a moment, before seizing it and pulling me to my feet, ignoring my little whimper of pain. You stepped back, pulling me with you, and spun me around. You fumbled with the back of my dress and then I felt and heard the zipper slide down, my dress opening up and exposing my tattooed back. I closed my eyes and purred happily as your fingers traced the inked ribbons and flowers. "Beautiful" you said. Your hands slid my dress down and over my hips until it puddled around my ankles. My wet-through panties followed it and you turned me back around.

I tried to conceal my body - womanly rather than slender, as it always had been - but you slapped my hands away. "Mm," you rumbled, the sound coming from deep within your throat. "Aren't you just a picture? Take the bra off, slut. I want to see all of you." My hands fumbled with the clasp and I frowned. You grinned at me, and then laughed when I made a little grunt of satisfaction when the difficult hooks gave way under me. The lace and satin construction fell away from me and I stood up straight, my heavy, full breasts  standing proud.

You gave me a long, lingering look. "Jesus fuck, woman. Get on your knees - now!" I hurried, trying to remain elegant as I knelt in front of you. Your hands were already fumbling with your belt as you unbuckled, unzipped and dropped trousers and underwear to the floor and releasing your rock-hard cock. You grabbed my hair roughly, pulling me forward and forcing your hardness deep into my mouth. I gulped, trying not to gag before mastering myself, drawing you a little deeper and massaging the head of your thick cock with my tongue. I reached my hand up and you gave a gratifying moan as my cool skin caressed you. I worked my way up your shaft, licking and sucking as I went. I lost track of time, only feeling you move against me, your hips thrusting into my mouth as your pleasure rose and rose. I wanted to feel you cum hard, to taste you - but you had other ideas.

Pushing me away, you wrenched me to my feet and threw me back against the bed, flipping me onto my front so that my arse and cunt were exposed for you to take. The red welts had deepened now and started to bruise. You slapped me once on each cheek, bringing the sting back to them, before plunging your cock deep into my hot, tight cunt. My moan was drawn-out and ululating, an animal sound, and my fingernails grazed the sheets as you thrust in and out of me, my own juices more than enough to slicken your shaft.

"Fuck, oh fuck!" I cried as you stretched me deliciously. You were close now - I could feel it, hear it in your voice as you growled with pleasure. As you fucked me deep your nails clawed me, over the already raised welts, over my back and down my thighs. I pushed a hand beneath myself and began to rub my clit hard, desperate to cum, desperate now to feel you cum. "Please - " I begged, words failing me now. Your breath came harder, faster, gasps and pants mixed with your harsh grunts. My head began to spin as I felt my orgasm rise, my fingers slick and frantic on my clit. With one deep, long thrust you shuddered and gave a primal cry and I felt the hot streams of your cum fill me. It was enough to drive me over the edge and my own moans joined yours, our bodies locked together.

For a long, long moment we lay there, your weight on top of me comforting. My eyes were closed, heart still thundering. I felt you pull away from me, standing up, and heard you go to the bathroom. A pause, and then heard you return, felt the bed move under you. I opened my eyes to see you sitting next to me, smiling. You stroked my hair fondly, smiling now without any trace of the coldness I had seen before.

"Well done, baby. I'm proud of you." You gathered me into your lap now and held me close. I heard your heart beating. "Well done..."

We slept.