The heels

I am on the bare floor of the same kind of empty room, blazer off, ponytail loose, black heels in my hand, telling the phone while Kyle watches me from a respectful distance. Forty. My lover, the man I already date. We planned this hour the way other people plan dinner. I said I wanted to tease his cock until he asked nicely, and he said he liked when I ran the clock. So I sat, skirt up, and dragged one heel up his shin without letting him closer to my cunt. He laughed under his breath and kept his hands on his thighs because I had not invited them anywhere else.

I said take your cock out and do not stroke until I say. He did. The look on his face when I set the heels down and crawled into his lap was worth the whole afternoon. I kissed him filthy and slow and pulled back every time he chased. Tease. I told him he was doing well, waiting. I slid down and licked the head of his cock, once, then looked up. He said please. I said again. He said please, Brooke, I want your mouth, I want to cum only when you allow it. I took his cock in and sucked him at my pace, hand firm, until his thighs jumped. Then I stopped. He groaned and did not grab. Good.

I stood him up, turned, and bent with my palms on the floor, then thought better of the drama and lay back on the wood instead, knees open. I said fuck my cunt, and you may cum when I cum. He sank his cock into my cunt with a thank you and fucked me deep, thumb on my clit, eyes on mine. I held one heel against his shoulder like a joke and a leash. I came talking, yes, yes, now. He followed, cum in my cunt, forehead to mine. After, I sat up with both heels in my hand and he kissed my bare ankle. I can list this apartment tomorrow. Tonight it was only a room we borrowed for a yes.