Page 21 of The Facilitator: Part 3
I ran my fingers over her panties. The elevator stopped midway to allow another American couple in.
“Going down?” he asked.
“Up,” the porter said, and smiled.
“Guess we’ll ride with you,” he said, then ushered in his wife.
Lauren and I shuffled to the corner. Still I kept brushing my fingers over her pussy. It was with a little sadness that the elevator arrived at our floor. I removed my hand and her dress fell back to her knees. She rushed from the lift and I thanked the porter.
She leaned against the wall and giggled. “Mr. Miller, whatever will my husband think?” she said.
“I think, Mrs. Miller, your husband is desperate to eat your pussy,” I said.
She gasped. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her along the corridor. I pushed her back against our door and I kissed her hard, biting at her lip and tongue. I swiped my card and opened the door. We stumbled through into the room and I kicked the door closed behind me.
She moaned as I turned her and pushed her back against the wall. I wrenched her dress to her waist, hearing a rip and not caring. I pushed her panties to one side and plunged my fingers into her pussy, two then three. I twisted and pumped my hand in and out. She rested her head back against the wall and I kissed her throat, nipping her skin until her dress began to annoy me.
I pulled my fingers out and told her to turn around. I unzipped the dress and let it fall to her feet. I wrapped my hand in her hair and held her head back while I pushed those fingers back inside her. I turned her head sideways to the wall, and I kissed her neck, her cheek, behind her ear. She gasped for breath.
“I fucking love you,” I whispered, and there was a tinge of anger to my voice. My cock was so hard it was painful and all my plans went out the window.
I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock free. Ipulled Lauren’s hips so she lowered her top half and placed her hands against the wall. I tore through her panties and I rubbed my cock over her opening. I plunged in, jolting her forward.
With each thrust I raised her from the floor. She cried out, panted, and threw her head back. I thrust harder. I could see her arms shake as she held herself off the wall. I knew she’d tell me to stop if she wanted to and all the time she didn’t, I fucked her more.
Fucking Lauren from behind was one of my favorite things. I could get deep; I could hit her G-spot with ease. I could tease her clitoris at the same time and she’d come so hard I’d feel every ripple of her muscles run up and down my cock. She screamed out my name, her voice hoarse, and her legs shook as her orgasm ripped over her. I held her around her waist stilling while she lowered, placing her hands on her knees.
“Don’t let me fall, Mackenzie,” she whispered.
“I’ve got you, always,” I replied.
I pulled out and picked her up. I carried her to the bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. I pulled her panties off and unclipped her bra, leaving her just in her shoes. I climbed over her body and I fucked her again.
When I came it hurt. My stomach cramped and I had to gasp to catch my breath. The pain was so very pleasurable, however.
I slumped to the bed beside her. “Jesus,” I said, trying to regulate my heartbeat.
Lauren giggled, and the sound traveled to my heart making it swell. “Mr. Miller, whatever will my husband say?” she said, leaning up and over me.
“I think your husband would tell you that was just round one,” I said, turning my head to her. She kissed my lips gently.
“Then, Mrs. Miller greatly looks forward to round two, and perhaps round three,” she whispered.
I laughed and slid from the bed. I picked up the box and while she kneeled, I presented it to her.
She smiled up at me as she opened it carefully, pulling the red ribbon too slowly for my liking.
“Oh, Mackenzie,” she said, pulling out a purple silk dress. “Oh, my,” she then added when she saw the purple Louboutins with the five-inch heels.
She jumped from the bed and removed her shoes, replacing them with the new ones. She walked around to show me. I loved Lauren in high heels, the definition of her calves was a turn-on, let alone they brought her to a height where I could finger or fuck her while she stood without too much crouching on my part.
I picked up my phone. “Stay there,” I said. She was naked except for the shoes and a glistening on her thighs. It was that, my cum on her skin, that I photographed.
She posed; she placed two fingers on her opening while I snapped a couple more, never getting her face so she couldn’t be identified. Although the shoes might give it away, they’d been custom-made to match the dress.
She leaned provocatively over the bed to inspect the other items in the box. “Why, Mr. Miller!” she said, in pretend shock. She held a vibrator and cock ring in her hands. She unwrapped another item, vibrating anal beads, and lastly, a piece of silk rope. “I think rounds two and three are going to be very interesting,” she said, stalking toward me.
She undid my tie, and pulled it through my collar, then my shirt and slipped it off my shoulders. I kicked off my loafers while she undid my pants. I stepped out of them. Even in her shoes, I was still taller. She ran her hands down my biceps, back up and over my shoulders. Then down my chest, letting her fingertips caress my nipples. She wrapped her hand around my cock and stepped closer.
