My hands were on her before the elevator doors were closed. Five months of anticipation, flirtation, dirty pictures, sweet texts, coded tweets and dirty voicemails. Five months of imagining her skin on mine, her breathe in my ear, my name on her lips. All spilled over into my hands, fingers and lips exploring her everywhere simultaneously. I needed to touch her all, and I couldn't let go of any of her.
"The skirt was the best idea ever." I snarled as my hand parted her thighs. I found her panties and ripped away at the crotch pulling them down and apart as she gasped.
"Fuck! Wait, baby. Wait." she giggled, the low light of the lift dancing across her freckled skin. "Just a minute. Let's get to the room. I'd hate to spend the whole weekend in jail for indecent exposure!"
"This is New Orleans, honey. 'Naked' isn't an arrest-able offense down here." Whether I would have changed her mind about fucking right there in the elevator, I'll never know as the doors slid open abruptly and we rushed into the hallway.
She skipped ahead of me, glancing over my shoulder and continuing to giggle. The giggle was the thing I was most surprised by. I'd heard her voice, I'd seen her in various states of makeup, and dress, I knew her likes and dislikes, but 'lol' cannot encapsulate a giggle. It was infectious. It was sweet and airy. It was sexy as hell.
She slid the key into the door, opened it, and spun through, glancing back over her shoulder at me. Her auburn hair cascaded across her shoulders, loose from her ponytail forgotten somewhere in the elevator. Stepping into the room, I held her head in my hands, looking into her eyes. "You're a lot prettier in real life." I said. "And besides, online we can't do this..." I kissed her full and deep, my tongue slipping between her lips to explore her mouth. Her nails dug against my chest, our bodies pressed against each other.
