Le café bondé (en)

I open the door of the café, it is full, there's no free table. I want to leave disappointed when I see you, alone at a table. I come closer, I apologize for the intrusion, I invoke the burning need to drink a coffee and I ask you if I may sit at your table. You don't say anything, just gesticulate that I may sit.

You're wearing black nylons and very elegant black sandals. Your legs are crossed, the one above points towards me. The skirt has slightly slid up your thighs, your knee is beautiful, delicate, I feel the need to place my palm on it.

Actually I am doing it. No reaction whatsoever from your part, I am surprised. You continue sipping your coffee.

I am getting bolder and touch your thigh.

Your thigh is warm, the wrapping nylon gives me this silky feeling. I am pushing my fingers between your thighs. I feel your flesh still warmer.

I get the impression that your body relaxes, you're letting yourself go in the noise of the café.

You live nearby, you are solitary, you miss company, but you are shy, you need courage to get out of the house, to drink this coffee in this coffeehouse full of people. Actually you fantasize that someone notices you, that he offers you what you crave so much.

The moment the hand rested on your knee something flashed through your body. A quivering in your breasts but you forced yourself that this would pass unnoticed.

You chose your outfit carefully before leaving home.

Do you give the first hints that you're accepting the hand between your legs? Do you place your hand on the daring hand of the stranger? Do you guide it?

That hand demands to feel the silk of your panties, black, he imagines, right there, in the coffee house. He wants to feel the flesh that the panties protect, he wants to slide a fingernail across the small lines that the pussy lips draw on the panties.

The quivering cannot be hidden any more this time. I start hearing your breathing.

Your coat is behind me, I haven't noticed it. You're turning towards me, pretending to look for something in a pocket of your coat, you bend over my body, a breast rests on my arm, you press it, you linger a bit too much, you're searching a little too long in the pocket of your coat.

I'm feeling your perfume, you'are breathing in my neck. I even have the feeling that your hips push agains my hand, as if you requested that it impale you.

I'm sliding a finger behind your slip, I feel a fleshy lip, full, swollen, captive.

I'm moving my finger in the valley between your small and big pussy lips, all is warm, humid, my dick pulsates in my trousers.

Finally you remove your already squeezed breast from my arm. Your body is moveing away and you're showing me, somewhat demonstratively what you were looking for: a couple of coins that you put on the small table. You're not saying anything, you're getting up, you're leaving that table but not before you're looking straight into my eyes. I follow you.

I can't help fixing my gaze on your buttocks that I couldn't see until now. Round, the black skirt wraps them perfectly. You're feeling my gaze. You hurry to the door of your block of flats, you make sure that I enter before the door shuts.

The door of the lift opens, a neighbour gets out, you're getting in. You could have left but you are blocking the door such that I can join you inside.

The door shuts.

I wait but the movement of the lift for throwing myself all over you. I'm pressing my lips on yours, my chest on your breasts, a kneee between your thighs, a hand touches your neck, the other surges directly between your legs.

It is hot and dark. I can't contain my arousal any more, I want to take out my cock and penetrate you there, in the lift.

I'm pulling your skirt on your hips, you're there in front of me, half naked, your gaze distraught, your pussy soaking, your only thought now is its desire and its sating. You are leaning on the lift's wall and you're spreading your legs.

I'm plunging inside you.

My dick pulsates, it passes through the tight entrance for arriving at the bottom of the soft, lubrified, welcoming flesh. The pounding stretches the skin of your pubis, each penetration pulls on your clit, like a soft masturbation.

I am feeling your breasts through the fabric of our clothes. So hard like buttons pressing on my chest. You're plunging your mouth in my nick to muffle your moans, your finger nails plunge in skin of my shoulders, your hips move against mine, your pussy is leaking, flowing. My strong spurts flood your pussy, triggering your own orgasm.