The Silent Witness

To say I was excited was an understatement.  The mixture of excitement and adrenalin is always powerful, especially when you don’t know what’s going to happen next.  I truly had no idea where this was leading.  All I knew was that finding out was going to be fun.  Little did I know what lay ahead.

We moved away from the counter and settled in the middle of the throng of drinkers who occupied the main bar while holding our drinks.  There were no seats so we stood facing each other closely hemmed in by people on all sides.  This proved to be beneficial (and I suspect deliberate) as we were pressed closely together.  I was engulfed by her sweet scent and was aware of a certain conductivity that flowed between us.  Eye contact, flesh contact, erectile contact.  In the scrum it was impossible to observe any illicit fondling. 

We chatted.  We flirted.  Initially some ‘getting to know you’ platitudes.  But it didn’t take long for the conversation to become intimate and laced with innuendo.  She was keen for me not to lose focus on the main intention of our date.  ‘I liked your hand where it was’ she suggested looking me unflinchingly in the eye.  ‘I liked it there too’ I reposted while moving my spare hand under the high hemline.  I was so close that this manoeuvre was accomplished with minimum fuss and with absolutely no chance of detection from the outside world.  We were pressed so closely that getting to know each other intimately was almost a prerequisite.  My fingers probed and playfully toyed with her lush lips through the thin, yielding fabric.  She chatted trying to neglect the fact that a strange man was exploring her labia and what lay inside with two inquisitive fingers in a public place while surrounded by many oblivious bystanders.

It became clear from her yielding facial expressions that things were becoming intense.  I didn’t flinch and had found her sweet spot.  She finished her drink and in an effort to ease the tension told me she needed the toilet and maybe I could get her another drink.  I could.  I returned to our previous position in the melee and awaited her return.  As she reassumed her position she put something into my jacket pocket and said ‘A souvenir’.  Her damp panties nestled safely in the cavity awaiting my inspection at a later date.  Right now there were other priorities.  My advances now had no constraints.  I was able to gain full access to her lips and what lay beneath.  I was in a state of considerable protrusion and she knew it.  As a form of retaliation she reached forward and expertly grasped my erect manhood which was pressing relentlessly against my trousers.  It had been rubbing her thigh for some time and she couldn’t ignore its insistence any longer.  She squeezed the shaft and held it lovingly through the material.  She was now soaking and I knew that this situation was going to require some relief.  But I was totally in her hands.  Literally.

She found direct eye contact and proclaimed ‘I think we need some fresh air’.  I was like a puppy dog with a very wagging tail and didn’t object.  I didn’t even need to beg.  My moist mistress was in charge and I trusted her implicitly.  It turned out I was a very good judge of character.   She held my hand while we walked around the large car park for several minutes.  She was scanning cars as if looking for her own which had mysteriously disappeared.  But her intention was different.  She took particular interest in sports cars and eventually found one to her approval.  Very sleek with an extended bonnet.  ‘F*** me on this car’ she said holding me close and again inspecting my cock like a quality control officer for ramrods.  Satisfied that things were up to standard she expertly produced some protection from her handbag.  With a minimum of fuss she opened the slimline packet and produced the goods.  ‘Wear this’ she said, as if I needed instruction.  She bent herself backwards onto the bonnet with the proficiency of a yoga teacher and spread her legs. 

Neither of us were capable of worrying about the likelihood of any extraneous movements activating the alarm of this supercar with its undoubted added security features.  We also ignored the dangers of being caught.  I was aware of cars’ headlights flashing around the car park, like the spotlights of a prison camp as they cornered the contours of the tight space seeking a resting place.  For her, this was all part of the thrill.  Danger, risk, reward.  I was new to this exposure but found it exhilarating.  While I could sense the impropriety, I was way too ‘in the moment’ to consider public decency.  All I wanted was public indecency with bells on……..

She urged me to drive like fury.  I did not hesitate.  I unfastened my belt, lowered the hood with surprising expertise and positioned myself above her.  I was like a homing device and fitted straight into the lush, tight cavity between her eager legs.  I pressed down on her body to get the necessary leverage and soon we were both riding the bonnet of this extremely potent vehicle with some tenacity.  I was soon buried deep, pounding her for all I was worth.  The car’s suspension gave the perfect ride and, amazingly, no screeching alarm.  She urged me to shift into sports mode and I relished the extra horsepower.  Into the home straight we sped, foot hard down to pass the chequered flag in the mutual exultation only produced by G-Force.  She clung onto me and kissed me on the cheek and whispered ‘Good boy’.  Out of the sports setting and back into puppy mode.  Little did I know my ‘walkies’ had only just begun…..

As we straightened our clothing and assumed a more decent posture she touched my face almost lovingly.  ‘I’ve got a room in the hotel across the road if you’d like to join me?’.  My heart nearly escaped from the confines of my rib cage.  ‘That would be nice’ I stammered obediently.  Soon we were in the lift of a very moderate high street hotel where there appeared to be no staff to scrutinise the comings and goings of Northampton’s degenerate inmates.  It seemed like a film set to ensure no cessation of the salacious script that was unfolding.  We kissed passionately in the lift as it rose with protestation to the fourth floor.  Our tongues hungrily devouring each other.  Her language was one of a woman on heat who urgently needed to be devoured and sated.  Luckily we spoke the same language.

We collapsed onto the bed.  She wrenched the covers back and we were soon coiled like illicit lovers in flagrante delicto.  The intensity of our hot connection required clothes to be torn from our bodies in urgency and our bodies to be locked relentlessly in a range of passionate couplings.  This was a f*** deluxe, made more extreme by the loud squeaking of the cheap mattress which was clearly not built to withstand such a battering.  We assumed various positions so I could gain total access.  She insisted that I used her totally, going through the gear box incessantly searching for the right tuning of her engine.  Things became tumultuous.  She was almost gargling with pleasure and I was grunting like a wild boar closing in on a giant truffle.  The ending would have brought a house down but it was a hotel.  Shame it wasn’t a theatre as an encore was inevitable.  But this wasn’t about performance level; it was about sheer animal attraction and lustful intent.  I had never experienced such blatantly compelling desire nor did I believe it was possible to repeat this intensity ever again.  It felt like the ultimate sweaty coupling based totally on physical and mental compatibility.  Right place, right time, right hotel.

She held me while we got our breath back.  Kissing me on the lips she got up and headed to the bathroom.  As she reached the door she turned back to me, there appeared to be a moment for reflection and then she said ‘There’s someone I want you to meet’.  She opened the door and, to my amazement, there was someone inside.  It appeared to be a humble, small man.  ‘I hope you were watching?!’ she said with total disdain.  ‘That’s how to fuck me, anything less is unacceptable you useless wimp’ she pronounced sneeringly. There was more humiliation to come.  ‘That’s the size I need, not your pathetic little worm, this is a real man who puts you totally to shame.  Do you understand?’.  ‘Just because you drive a sleek sports car makes you think you’re a real man, doesn’t it?  But we all know it’s just a pathetic cock substitute.’  The man, who appeared broken by the scornful words, shook his head affirmatively.  He was shamed and speechless.  She told him to stop hiding and come out of the bathroom ‘If you’re man enough’ she added.  He shuffled out of the bathroom not able to meet my astonished gaze.  ‘P, I’d like you to meet my useless husband, for what he’s worth, which isn’t a lot’.

She ordered him to stand in the corner and lovingly helped me to get dressed.  She’d got everything she wanted and treated me like her lover.  She held my shaft which was rapidly getting stiff again like a trophy and showed it to him across the room with a smirk.  She gave me a loving kiss at the door, lips on lips, tongues reuniting.  Again reducing him to a useless, unwanted, superfluous third party.  A gooseberry.  A useless, silent witness