After The Keynote

The hotel room door clicks shut. I look up from the couch. There you are standing in the vestibule (French for "leftover space by the door the architect couldn't figure out how to make useful").

"How did it go?" I ask.

"Smooth. I got a big round of applause. The naked sculpture butt was a big hit."

"Yeah, you can get away with that and I can't."

I look at you closer. Your feet haven't moved from where you stepped in. Your face is flushed, which I expect after a keynote, but you're biting your lower lip, which means something else entirely. Our eyes lock for a long moment. You don't move.

"Oh, am I doing this?"

You nod and smile.

I put down my Kindle and walk over to you slowly, looking you up and down.

Our eyes are level because you're wearing heels, yours hazel and mine blue. A black tank top conceals your pert breasts and the pale pink nipples my mouth knows so well. Your red skirt flares over generous hips my hands love to rest on and ends half way over the muscles of your calves. Those calf muscles will feature prominently in a minute.

Your teeth press deeper into your lip as you read my obvious interest.

"Was my little girl good today?"

"Yes, Sir."
"Well, then, you should be rewarded."

Your backpack falls to the floor as I reach for the hem of your tank. You stretch your hands above your head as I slide it up and over. Your hands come down on my shoulders as I slide mine around your waist and cup your lower back. Our lips meet, part, and our tongues play.

I caress your back, feeling the muscles play as you press into me, the sheen of sweat that comes from being on stage. I move my hands up and unhook your bra. You drop your hands to let the black silk fall to the floor. I lean over.

The rise of your nipple to a bud perfectly matches my tongue pulling you into my mouth. You breath hisses into your mouth as the pressure mounts. Your back arches.

A sharp odor hits my nose. "My little girl needs a shower."

"Yes, Sir. Will you wash me."

"Of course."

Your arms on my shoulders I reach behind to unbutton and unzip your skirt. Your musk fills my nose, making me dizzy. I love the smell of you, but I also love washing you. Pheromones work and ours work together.

I sink to my knees as I press your skirt and panties down together. I can't stop myself from kissing your bush. With your hands pressing the back of my head my tongue flicks out. I pull back.

"Not just yet. I am taking care of you now."

I unbuckle your shoes and hold them as you step out and over your skirt puddle. I stand, take your hand, and lead you into the bathroom.

You stand and watch me strip of my shirt and sweats as the shower water warms. You reach for my stiffening cock but my hand closes on your wrist. "I am taking care of this."

I push you into the shower. You turn slowly around while I work up a lather with our peppermint soap.

I start start at the back of your neck then come around and increase the pressure on your throat. Down one arm and up into your armpit. The other arm. Your breasts pressed up from the bottom. I pinch both nipples and I'm rewarded with a gasp. More soap.

I turn you sideways to me with the water running down your front. One hand washes your back down to the curve of your powerful ass, the other from below your breasts to your bush. Both hands work in, one caressing your slit, the other slides between your asscheeks and onto your hole. Both hands work in rhythm, one circling your clit at the same speed as the other circles the ridge of muscle around your anus. The pressure and rhythm increase and your head tilts back.

A magical connection happens. I can feel your body almost like my own. Maybe it's the vulnerability that comes of holding the attention of a thousand people in the palm of your hand, but I can read you like never before. I feel your orgasm rise as muscles in your pussy and your ass twitch.

I pull away and you glare at me. "I said I was taking care of you."

Your nostrils flare, "Yes, but dammit..."

"Hands on your knees."

"No, Sir," you plead.

"Now."

You comply. The smack sounds like a rifle shot. The ass cheek closest to me instantly pinks in the shape of my hand. Tears come into your eyes.

I quickly finish washing your legs without touching your crotch, spin you around to rinse, then turn off the water. You step out. I towel you roughly head to toe. Grab your arm. Guide you to the bed and push you back.

I come up between your legs and lick your pussy up to your clit. Again. Again and your back arches to push against my mouth. I pull away and lick up your belly, hard into your belly button, and up to a nipple. A groan escapes your clenched teeth as my cock slides in at just the time I pull your nipple deep into my mouth.

I know you. I feel you. The boundaries between us, even if only for a moment, blur.

I sit up on my knees, you impaled on my cock, your legs, your powerful, muscular legs, wrapped around me. I take my left thumb and rest it on your clit, circle, circle faster and lighter, faster and lighter. Again you approach climax. Again I know it, I feel it in my body. I pull my thumb away.

No time for the climax to recede this time. I run my hands from your hips down your legs to your feet and back. A second time, but this time I stop and your ankles and clench. I pull your legs up and apart. Begin thrusting.

As the volcano builds I bring your legs together on either side of my face. I can feel your calves, your strong, curving, powerful calves through my beard. We have found the rhythm together, my cock and your hips.

I lean forward, bending you in two, pressing your legs against your chest. The barriers are gone. We are one. I pull further and further out with each thrust until your pussy lips part before the head of my cock slamming deep into you.

My face is inches from yours. Your eyes roll up. Your back stiffens. Tears are rolling down my face mingling with your tears. You cry out, your mouth wide open.

On my last thrust I pull out and slide roughly along your clit, your bush. That's what I was waiting for. I cover your stomach and tits with come.

We lay, chests heaving, tears flowing, coming back slowly into each our separate bodies. We laugh in unison. I spread the come over your front. "Good for your skin."

Your eyes close as you sigh. I release you and you roll onto your side. I slide a pillow beneath your head. I draw the blanket and sheet over you and fit my body against your back.

"Did I take care of my little girl?"

There's now answer but the steady breath of sleep. I close my eyes.