MEERA
The word barely left my mouth when my hand was grabbed and I was led out of the club to the underground parking lot. And the next thing I knew was that I was on the back seat of a luxurious car with my right leg thrown over his shoulders and the left one dangling on the floor of the vehicle while he knelt in between them to eat me out.
A breathless gasp left my mouth as his tongue swirled over my pussy. It was too much, the swirls, the bites, the licks. I couldn't stop the wanton sounds from spilling out of my mouth. He didn't stop. He kept at it like a starved animal that could only be full from eating me out.
I came for the second time on his tongue, and even when it became too much to keep still, I instinctively tried to scurry away, but he held me in place… I couldn't remember the last time I had a man eat me out. All the men I've been with were always interested in cumming more than my own pleasure.
He finally lifted his head, and when I looked up, dazed and breathless, it was to catch him licking liquid off his lips. I watched the movement, enthralled and turned on even more. It seemed like I was an endless source of wetness. I've had two orgasms, but I wanted more and more.
He pressed a button on the door, and it slid open. When we stepped out, I noticed we were no longer in the underground parking lot. While he was eating me out on the back seat, the car had been moving, and I didn't even notice.
He led me through the back door to a private elevator that had only one floor—the top floor. It opened directly to a living area of the Penthouse, and dull bulbs flickered on immediately we stepped in.
"Get on your knees," he ordered once we got to the middle of the room, and I dropped to my knees with the speed of lightning.
He freed himself, and I gasped at the sight of his dick. The length, the thickness, the bulging veins, and the glistening tip with precum. It made my mouth water, and he didn't say anything before I opened my mouth and took him in.
"Fuck," he groaned when I swirled my tongue over his tip, and the sound wet straight to my core and made me drip down my thighs. I was turned on.
He wrapped his hand around my hair, and he took over to fuck my mouth with a precise savagery that made me wetter and made me desperate to be pressed against the wall and ravaged till I was a boneless mess.
"Fuck little dove," he groaned again, his hold tightening around my hair and his dick slipping in and out of me in a wet, sloppy mess, "your mouth feels so good I could fuck it all day."
He looked down at me as he spoke, and the possessive look in his eyes only turned me on more.
He came with a groan, and I made sure to swallow as much as I could. I had barely recovered from that when I was lifted off the floor and bent over the kitchen cabinet. He dragged his tip over my soaked lips before he eased in, and my mouth fell open in a gasp at the feeling of being stretched out and stuffed full.
He started moving immediately while our moans and groans and gasps and pleas and tears mixed with our obscene slapping sounds filled the room till I had my third orgasm of the night.
I had my next one on the bed and the fifth one on against the bathroom wall while the walls and mirror showed our reflection and his feral look as he claimed me over and over again.
That was the last orgasm I remembered because my eyes wouldn't stay open after then, and when I opened them again, sunlight was streaking in through the drawn curtain.
I sat up, my body sore and aching in the most beautiful way. The events from last night came flooding in. It wasn't a dream. I really hooked up with a stranger from last night and had marathon sex with him.
A marathon sex where I came five times!
"So two orgasms?" he threw my words from last night right back at me. I looked up to see him leaning against the door frame, two cups of hot coffee in hand, and stark naked.
My eyes dropped and lingered on his dick. Even in its flabby state, it remained something to look at.
I stood up and started putting on my clothes. I could tell his eyes were on me, and I ignored it even though they sent a surge of desire to the part I didn't want to name.
"I guess you deserve a gold medal for making me cum five times."
"Six times," he corrected, and I rolled my eyes.
"Five."
"Six."
"Five."
"Six"
"Five."
"You know, instead of this back and forth, why don't I make you cum again? I bet I can make you cum two more times before you leave."
He dropped the cups on the table in the room, and for a second, I was touched at the fact that he made coffee for me. The men I've been with were always concerned about what they could do to my body, not my well-being. And this man, who was a complete stranger, cared enough to make coffee for me.
He started walking towards me, the monster between his legs hardening in front of my eyes. His offer was tempting. More orgasms, more pleasure, but last night was an impulsive decision. He could be a Greek god of sex, but I wasn't going to sleep with him again.
"No," I told him plainly, "I'm not interested."
He stopped short, a frown marring his face. His eyes raked over my body, which was now fully clothed, before resting on my face again.
"Well, that's weird but understandable. Some other time then."
"No," I maintained, "there won't be another time."
It felt good to call the shots; this time, he only chuckled, as if what I said was amusing.
"No," there was a tone of finality in his voice that doesn't leave room for any argument, "there were more times, and this will go on for as long as I want."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
It was my turn to chuckle because who does he think he is to dictate what I will do?
"It's a good thing you don't get to tell me what to do, and like I said. This was a one-time thing. It's never going to happen again."
His expression only grew more bemused, and he took a step closer. I maintained my stance even though all the nerves in my body were going haywire. And standing this close to him when he was stark naked was messing with both my brain and my pussy, which was getting wetter by the second.
"I guess we'll see about that, little Dove." He said, and I was surprised at the disappointment I felt. I wanted him to fight a bit harder. I knew I'd have caved and given in.
"My driver will be waiting for you downstairs. He'll take you home."
I sidestepped him and walked out of the room. My eyes were momentarily drawn to the living area and the open-plan kitchen. It reeked of affluence and luxury, and it was a penthouse. It must have cost millions of dollars to live here. I fleetingly wondered how wealthy he was, and I realized I had been really reckless last night.
He was a total stranger. He could be a kidnapper or worse, a serial killer.
"See you soon, little dove." I ignored him as I stepped inside the elevator. It closed and when it opened again, a man in a black suit was waiting for me.
"Good morning, ma, I'll drive you to your destination."
A red car distinctly different from the one from last night was waiting, and the driver promptly opened the door for me. I stepped in, overly conscious and wondering just how wealthy the stranger was. I gave him a random address on the other side of the city. I didn't want to risk his boss finding out where I lived.