The man stepped away from the wall, tucked one hand into his pocket, and laid the other casually at his side as he approached.Damn.He could have been walking down a fashion week catwalk instead of a room inside the most exclusive sex club in Manhattan. Without saying a word, the other players shifted to allow him room to work. Their hands left her pussy so that his was the only one that touched her throbbing flesh. His eyes never left hers. The other hands moved to pet at her nipples, her ass. Any available inch of skin got sucked and licked.
The man slowly pushed two fingers into her entrance. He worked with a calm the rest of the players had long ago abandoned, almost lazily toying with her heated sex. Inside, she felt raw and used, a feeling she relished and would savor the lingering effects of during the next few days. The man curled his fingers to the front of her walls, zeroing in on that secret place that made every woman buck and scream like an untamed horse. As delicious as his touch felt, that wasn’t what caused her release to build at an alarming rate. Instead, it was the cool, detached confidence he exuded. This man knew he could control the room with little effort. Knew he could control her. At least in this setting.
“Come for me.” The three growled words sealed her decision.
On several prior visits to Zion, she had decided to leave without climaxing, instead using the frustration to fuel her in the real world. Others, she allowed herself to come several times.
Tonight, it would be just once. Just with this man driving the final blow.
“Green!” She screamed and panted the word over and over. The hands and mouths moving over her became even more frantic. But Mr. GQ in front of her stayed the course, simply adding his thumb directly onto her clit and pressing down.
Every molecule in her body imploded, sucking in on themselves before expanding out and releasing every pent-up desire she had ever held. The words and sounds pouring from her lips were indecipherable, the sensations too much to keep track of. Everything went on and on. The man kept his fingers inside her, drawing her orgasm out with his steady rhythm.
Lydia forced her eyes open, connecting immediately with his. Though his stance suggested complete disinterest in what he did to her body, his eyes told a completely different story. Heat. Lust. Want. And even a small amount of anger that confused her spinning mind.
Finally, the orgasm began to ebb away, leaving her spent and exhausted. The people surrounding her petted and coaxed her gently down from her extreme sexual high, giving her soft words of praise. She didn’t need them, but they were appreciated all the same.
The stranger, however, stood stoically before her, still slowly gliding one finger in and out of her pussy as if he didn’t want to stop touching her. Somehow, out of the dozens of people standing around, some even clapping, he was the only one who made her feel slightly embarrassed of what she had just done, what she had done many times before, what she craved.
