reached into the heat and
grabbed his stiff prick, making him grunt with pleasure.
Fumbling in her shoulder bag with her
other hand, she found a condom. She let go of him long enough to
open the wrapper and free its contents. Chastity pushed him down
onto the stairs and rolled the rubber over his cock, shed her own
pants and straddled him as they both sighed on impact.
It was awkward. The next step jutted
into his back, doubtless, and she had trouble figuring how to fold
up her legs enough to find balance, but they were both determined.
Damien closed his mouth upon her breast while he fiddled the other
with his fingers. Chastity closed her eyes and felt the incredible
sensation as he moved inside her, lifting herself to slam against
him as hard as she could from that tricky position. In no time, she
was coming, crying out her pleasure as she squeezed him inside her
and Damien beamed happily at her contortions.
When her shuddering slowed, he lifted
her up, still hard inside her and pressed her back against the
wall. They were a little askew as he had one leg on a higher step
than the other, but she held on tight with both legs and arms as
Damien thumped into her, growling with the effort, his balls
slapping against her as he stoked her cunt roughly, churning her on
to another orgasm as he finally came shouting her name.
Well, shouting 'Helen', which did just
as well, she thought sardonically. His passion was genuine and he
returned to fucking her mouth with delicious abandon, his tongue
eager to penetrate every depth of it. "Tell me you can stay a bit
longer," he breathed when at last he drew momentarily away, both
their lips burning with the friction.
"I have a cocktail party to attend
tonight. About six, I think," she said, feeling her breath
gradually slow toward normalcy. She relaxed her legs and slipped
down to rest on her own feet, feeling a little shaky.
"That's hours away," Damien said with
a giant-size smile. "Race you to the top of the stairs?"
Chastity dashed up ahead of him as he
hopped up, trying not to trip over his trousers. At the top of the
stairs she laughed at him, as he held up his jeans with one hand,
swinging the used condom in the other. "I win! I win! What do I
win?"
Damien curled an arm around her and
kissed her again, slowly and with evident delight. "What would you
settle for? One hundred pounds? Or a footrub?"
"Oooh, no contest," Chastity cooed.
"Footrub!"
"As you wish," Damien said with an
exaggerated bow, sweeping the way forward to the bedroom that
Chastity remembered so very well. She dropped her bag on the floor
and flopped on the bed. Damien stepped into the bathroom for a
moment and emerged with a bottle of skin lotion. "Shoes off!" he
demanded.
"You're very keen on the 'off, off,
off'," she murmured.
Damien had discarded his trousers and
sat with one leg crooked under him on the end of the bed. Lifting
her foot onto his lap, he caressed the ankle and ran his finger
along her instep. "Just trying to make you comfortable," he said,
catching her eye as she lay back on the pillows. He squeezed a bit
of lotion into his palm and set the bottle back down. Gently, he
spread the lotion across her foot, warming her skin as he rubbed it
in, smoothing it around the curve of her heel and between her
toes.
Chastity sighed and closed her eyes.
There was nothing more relaxing than a foot massage. How had she
lucked into this guy? His fingers were patient and slow, feeling
each nuance of her foot as if he were memorizing the contours. She
reveled in the attention and the rarity of such intimate contact.
Her mind drifted to Amélie and her passionate friendship. It was
unusual for her to snuggle with a lover, but Amélie had curled
around her and continued to chat away as if they had been lovers
for years. Odd as it was, Chastity had enjoyed the vicarious
closeness, as if tasting a fruit out of her reach, something she
knew she could not experience.
Yet here again there was that sense
grabbed his stiff prick, making him grunt with pleasure.
Fumbling in her shoulder bag with her
other hand, she found a condom. She let go of him long enough to
open the wrapper and free its contents. Chastity pushed him down
onto the stairs and rolled the rubber over his cock, shed her own
pants and straddled him as they both sighed on impact.
It was awkward. The next step jutted
into his back, doubtless, and she had trouble figuring how to fold
up her legs enough to find balance, but they were both determined.
Damien closed his mouth upon her breast while he fiddled the other
with his fingers. Chastity closed her eyes and felt the incredible
sensation as he moved inside her, lifting herself to slam against
him as hard as she could from that tricky position. In no time, she
was coming, crying out her pleasure as she squeezed him inside her
and Damien beamed happily at her contortions.
When her shuddering slowed, he lifted
her up, still hard inside her and pressed her back against the
wall. They were a little askew as he had one leg on a higher step
than the other, but she held on tight with both legs and arms as
Damien thumped into her, growling with the effort, his balls
slapping against her as he stoked her cunt roughly, churning her on
to another orgasm as he finally came shouting her name.
Well, shouting 'Helen', which did just
as well, she thought sardonically. His passion was genuine and he
returned to fucking her mouth with delicious abandon, his tongue
eager to penetrate every depth of it. "Tell me you can stay a bit
longer," he breathed when at last he drew momentarily away, both
their lips burning with the friction.
"I have a cocktail party to attend
tonight. About six, I think," she said, feeling her breath
gradually slow toward normalcy. She relaxed her legs and slipped
down to rest on her own feet, feeling a little shaky.
"That's hours away," Damien said with
a giant-size smile. "Race you to the top of the stairs?"
Chastity dashed up ahead of him as he
hopped up, trying not to trip over his trousers. At the top of the
stairs she laughed at him, as he held up his jeans with one hand,
swinging the used condom in the other. "I win! I win! What do I
win?"
Damien curled an arm around her and
kissed her again, slowly and with evident delight. "What would you
settle for? One hundred pounds? Or a footrub?"
"Oooh, no contest," Chastity cooed.
"Footrub!"
"As you wish," Damien said with an
exaggerated bow, sweeping the way forward to the bedroom that
Chastity remembered so very well. She dropped her bag on the floor
and flopped on the bed. Damien stepped into the bathroom for a
moment and emerged with a bottle of skin lotion. "Shoes off!" he
demanded.
"You're very keen on the 'off, off,
off'," she murmured.
Damien had discarded his trousers and
sat with one leg crooked under him on the end of the bed. Lifting
her foot onto his lap, he caressed the ankle and ran his finger
along her instep. "Just trying to make you comfortable," he said,
catching her eye as she lay back on the pillows. He squeezed a bit
of lotion into his palm and set the bottle back down. Gently, he
spread the lotion across her foot, warming her skin as he rubbed it
in, smoothing it around the curve of her heel and between her
toes.
Chastity sighed and closed her eyes.
There was nothing more relaxing than a foot massage. How had she
lucked into this guy? His fingers were patient and slow, feeling
each nuance of her foot as if he were memorizing the contours. She
reveled in the attention and the rarity of such intimate contact.
Her mind drifted to Amélie and her passionate friendship. It was
unusual for her to snuggle with a lover, but Amélie had curled
around her and continued to chat away as if they had been lovers
for years. Odd as it was, Chastity had enjoyed the vicarious
closeness, as if tasting a fruit out of her reach, something she
knew she could not experience.
Yet here again there was that sense
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