Dear Diary
I was at a science convention. Friends invited me. I’m not going to lie; science isn’t my thing. All the buzzing and laughter fill the atmosphere as new inventions fly above my head. Eventually, I slip away because it wasn’t for me. A quick freshen-up, and into the restroom I go. I pass many mirrors, eloquently placed, and I see my lemon blouse and my black ruffle skirt. My lucky skirt is sitting halfway down my thighs, and my slip-on black shoes are on. I walk around the corner. The ladies’ line is so long, I decide to slip into the men’s. There, I see a tall male standing in the dim lighting. His gaze reaches mine. I hear his zipper, and he goes ahead to wash and dry his hands as if I’m not even here.
“I apologise for breaking in so abruptly,” I say, trying to avert my gaze. It took longer than it should, and I was about to leave when he clasped my arm and slid down to my wrist.
“How much did you see?” I gulped. Just what are you meant to say in a situation like this? “Speak to me,” he demanded with the deep voice of authority. Well, that was it, my full-blown, flirty talk about to begin.
“Not enough,” I replied in a whisper. I pray my eyes don’t give me away and say, I saw everything. I see a devious smile growing on his lips.
“Would you like to see more?” his eyes locked onto mine, waiting patiently; I looked at the door and then down at the warm grip around my wrist. He leans in closer and gently takes my other wrist. He brings his face closer to my ear. I am stunned the moment his tongue touches my skin. I can feel myself getting damp. “I asked. Would you like to see more?” he whispers in my ear. I look around the restroom. Not ideal, and I have been disappointed in one before, I think to myself. He starts kissing my neck, and his strength tightens around my wrists. I moan softly. Unwilling to pull myself away from the dangerous intoxication of him.
“Not in the restroom,” I reply. Swiftly, he walks me down to an office near the restroom. It was dark, with a slight silver tone, and a large oak table right by the window. He shut and locked the door, then cleared the table. The anticipation is bubbling within me. My heart is racing in my chest. My eyes are burning with hunger. He presses my body against the table. I feel his hands touch the fabric of my black ruffle skirt, his fingers holding the fabric and sliding the hem towards my hips. I slip off my shoes.
His fingers begin to dance around, teasing the edges, while moans spill out with every stolen breath. I feel my knickers sliding down my legs. I watch him toss them aside. He lifts me effortlessly to the table, positioning himself between my legs. My hands climb his chest and frantically remove each button. His lips meet mine. Soft, slow and deeply delicate. My hands pull him closer. I fumble with the last button and remove his shirt with his gentle help. His eyes meet mine. Then one hand moves slowly between my legs, and I moan when he reaches the blissful spot. I am lost in this pleasurable moment. I allow him to tease me more, all the while our eyes continue to dive deeper into each other.
My hands reach for his belt as my breathing quickens. His belt breaks free, and I wrap it around his neck, pulling him close and start kissing him as if there wasn’t going to be a tomorrow. I hear his zipper. My heart flutters, and I moan in his mouth as I feel him enter me with extreme force. My body absolutely loves every delicious, thick, warm inch of him. His hips grind and thrust in relentless rhythm as he fucks me rough on this large oak table. It is so brutally blissful to the point that I thought we were going to break it in half. Then I start to see people gathering outside the window. Major panic sets in, and I gasp, trying to move away as they look right in the window.
“Watch them watching,” he whispers as he moves me further along the table. I see the observers are all in a bit of shock, and he completely removes his lower half and sits himself on top of his table. “I dictate what you are going to do. Now sit on me. My cock wants to wear you like a crown,” he commands as he lies on his back.
I position myself. He starts to unbutton my blouse, and I see the joy on his face as he sees my supple breasts, only slightly hidden behind my front clasp bra. His fingers pop the restraint, and he cups each one. I start edging him inside my needy warmth. So here I am riding his full cock, taking it all as he holds my breasts with his hands and mouth occasionally. I believe trying to shield some of my modesty, which, to be quite frank, left as soon as I started bobbing up and down like he was my personal bull at the rodeo.
He starts groaning and shifting my hips in super slow motion. I don’t know where his stamina has come from, but by Christ, he knows exactly what to do with every part of me. I mean, seriously, do they train men how to thrill a woman to her end? My back starts to arch, and my legs begin to tremble. As I am about to totally relieve myself while on top, “Not yet,” he says and pulls me right off. What the fuck? I think to myself. I hear the audience gasp in shock, and I see some cover their mouths in horror.
Then he pulls me to the very edge of the table, throwing my legs over his head, and buries his face deep within, well fuck me. All was forgiven as his tongue delicately brought me back up to a different height of total pleasure.
I closed my eyes for a while, I can’t remember how long, to be exact, as I lost myself within the tremendous delight, completely on a different planet, still in the midst of having surreal satisfaction. He proceeds to flip me over and fuck me brutally and savagely from behind, making my blood pump around my body like a blaze of fire. I beg for more at this point, clawing like there was no tomorrow at the edges of the table so hard I break more than one nail. He is more than happy to oblige while sticking his hand between my legs. I believe I actually mutter, “Not again,” I say, even though I do. I feel him thrust deeper and lean in. His fingers masterfully climbing and chasing claim to my climax as his own.
“Yes again,” he whispers roughly in my ear and kissing my neck and right there, I say goodbye to my last thread of hesitation, which slips away loudly. I am blissfully fifty shades of red raw, vibrating like a washing machine on full spin, and utterly satisfied on the table, my climax claiming every piece of my body. He still isn’t done; he keeps thrusting, filling me up to the absolute brim. He pulls out, groaning, and his milky fluid lands all over my back. So, here I am, head down, completely fucked. Recovering from my last orgasm and can barely walk.
Meanwhile, the audience all start clapping and screaming outside. I look at Mr Science, and he smiles at me, handing me his business card. I compose myself as best I can. I walked out of the centre with my friends, and they asked whether I had a good time. I did say yes, of course and knowing for sure it wasn’t a lie made it all the more fun.
Anyway, as we walked around the front of the window, I was forced to look out and observe our spectators. I look up and see a disaster ad running in a loop just above the window, asking for help with what they need. How they are doing now, the plans for the future, and finally, how much money has been raised so far. Then it’s turned off, and I realise they saw nothing, and I see him standing, half-dressed. His face with the biggest seductive grin, he winks at me and shows me he still has my knickers. I have to give him that. I smile back, and my friend asks if I would be back. I know he heard that, and I said I could be persuaded.
