Meet Me...

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...on the 8th floor landing.
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Hello, this is the first in a series I hope to keep working on. This story has inspired me to write a prequel about how these two met, why she doesn't look at him, why she obeys, etc. I have little time to actually write but hopefully I'll get there.

I was not sure what category this should be under but the "public" aspect is so strong I placed it under Exhib & Voy.

Any feedback is helpful. Thanks in advance.

EM

*

MEET ME . . . On the 8th floor landing.

Stepping out of her car she realizes how nervous she is. A sly and mischievous smile plays at the corners of her mouth, she can't believe she's going to do this. Her dress swirls around her ankles as she shuts the car door. She shoulders her empty purse and starts off across the intervening space. Soon the mixture of heightened emotions and the cool breeze combine and she becomes aware of her nipples as they begin to tighten. As she moves toward the high-rise complex she imagines how obscene they must look through the sheer fabric of her blouse. As per his instructions she is not wearing a bra and the thought only propels the situation until her nipples are as hard as they have ever been. Refusing to let the situation soften her resolve she moves on, her breasts swaying freely, nipples gliding across the soft fabric.

Finally reaching the designated building she glances at her watch. Satisfied that she is on time she sets her shoulders and enters the lobby. Once inside her she stops for a moment to let her eyes adjust. Glancing at the people she is suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that everyone within sight knows what she is about to do. She quickly dismisses the paranoia and spots the staircase near the elevator. Her high heels clap out her presence to all within earshot as she moves across the intervening space.

She reaches the door and turns a little to the right as she pushes the lever with her left hip. Glancing up and back the way she came she is surprised to notice the number of heads that snap away from her gaze, not all of which are male. She smiles, a little flattered, and turns back to her left as she enters the stairwell.

Before her a wide stair begins its ascent to a landing above. Overhead and to the left is the bottom side of the return flight. An inverted replica of the stair before her; hanging, it would seem, in defiance of the laws of physics. A cold hard mass of concrete and steel created out of necessity but about to be employed as a place of pleasure.

With a glance up she notices that the layout of the stairs is such that one cannot see all the way to the top as in some stairwells. Thus without being able to see her objective she takes the first step toward her destination, the landing on the 8th floor.

. . . . . . . . . .. . . .

She stops and tries to calm her beating heart, the sign on the door reads "8". After a moment she realizes the wait is futile, her heart is not racing from the exertion of the climb. Taking a deep breath she places her purse on the ground at her feet. She waits a moment, listening for footsteps or any other sounds in the stairwell. Satisfied it is empty she reaches out and knocks on the large steel door. Two quick and timid taps and then she backs away and waits for what seems like an eternity. She checks her watch and just as she is about to tap again she is answered. The two knocks that come from the other side of the door are not timid. They seem deafeningly loud to her, so much so that she involuntarily jumps at the first.

The realization of the moment sets in and she actually starts to tremble. Deciding quickly that she did not come this far to chicken out she takes a deep breath and begins to unbutton her blouse. Once it is off she folds it neatly and places it in her purse. Then she slides her skirt down her legs stepping out of it carefully. Placing it in her purse as well she then slips off her panties and steps out of them. The realization that she can smell her own arousal creates an odd, if momentary, sense of calm. If her own body wants this so badly then she must accept it. She looks up at door realizing that she has paused to think about the philosophical ramifications of her actions while completely nude in a public stairwell. She smiles accompanied by a self-mocking chuckle as she picks up her purse and places her panties on top.

Completely naked except for her high heels she slings her purse over her shoulder and steps back up to the door. Holding her breath she knocks three times, more forcefully this time. The three knocks are echoed back from the other side almost instantly and so, taking her cue she turns and starts up the next flight of stairs stopping on the third step as instructed.

She hears the door open behind and below her and has to fight every nerve in her body to keep from running or turning around to see. Instead she holds herself in place and quietly waits. There is no sound other than the slight hissing of the hydraulic closer on the door. It finally slams shut as it jumps the last few inches to the jamb, the reverberation echoes up and down the hard surfaces of the stairwell.

As they die away and the sense of stillness returns to her she realizes there is still no sound. The tension in her body begins to show as she trembles slightly. Noticing this, as his eyes have been following every curve and pore of her form her begins to climb toward her. It takes four footfalls for him to reach the stair below her. He stops, his chest lightly rising and falling against her lower back. His breath warming the space between her shoulders. She feels him lean in, hears him inhale slowly through his nose, taking in the aroma of her. She jumps as his tongue quickly darts out and touches her skin.

He whispers to her to go on. Remembering his instructions she lowers her gaze to her feet as she slowly climbs to the next landing. She can hear him following a few steps behind and becomes even more aroused at the thought of his view. As she turns to start up the next flight she also keeps her head averted from his direction as specified. They continue on past the ninth floor, past the tenth floor, her heart racing every time a door comes into view. As she turns on the landing past the door to ten she notices that they are at the top. Instead of another flight there is just a double landing. She stops, unsure of what to do. Still looking at the ground she hears him come up behind her. He stops close to her and says, "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Feeling a blush rise to her face and upper torso she whispers a quick and shy, "Thank you."

He tells her to go over and stand in the far corner, set her purse down and wait. She complies, standing there listening, she hears clothes rustling and assumes he is undressing. Suddenly he is behind her, his body is cool compared to his semi-erect cock. It presses against her ass as he forcefully presses his whole body against her as if he is trying to actually bond his flesh to hers. As she is smashed into the corner she feels the cold concrete, its rough texture gripping her soft skin. Her nipples rake across it and she lets out a low moan. He pins her there, not moving, just breathing in her ear, waiting. Suddenly the stillness is ripped apart by the sound of a door opening in the stairwell. She gasps and momentarily struggles but is stilled by a low "Shhh," hissed in her ear.

Ceasing her struggle she listens, the footsteps are loud to her heightened sense and she struggles to determine if they are coming or going. Then the door that opened crashes shut swallowing the footfalls for a moment. As they return she realizes not only that the footsteps are quieter but also that she has been holding her breath. She exhales slowly as the footsteps continue to fade until another door is opened farther down. As it shuts the muffled sound signals her body to relax and she sags forward even more into the cool concrete. He chuckles behind her and slowly eases away from her. His left hand momentarily caresses her face and comes to rest on her left shoulder. His right gently guides her hip turning her to the left until she is facing the railing that overlooks the tenth floor landing. Still behind her he whispers to her to step up and grab the railing.

A lump forms in her throat and she stares at the railing feeling the small distance to be covered much greater than it actually is. The pressure of his hand on her hip increases and compels her forward. Almost numbly she steps forward, each step increasing the amount of space she can see of the stairwell below. She stops at the railing standing upright, the cold bar pressing back lightly just above her naked hips. Her head still lowered she looks down into the open stairwell and imagines the number of people who must use it every day. The thought makes her grip the rail with both hands, not because he commanded but to keep her from backing away.

He begins to run his hands over her back and neck. Her gaze drifts to and then locks on the door below as his hands quickly and firmly make their way around her backside. One second he is roughly squeezing her ass cheek, the next he is kneading her back muscles like a masseuse. Slowly she relaxes as he alternates between caressing and pushing, gripping and pulling. Losing herself to the moment she lets go of the railing and reaches back to caress his thigh. He slides his right palm up her back and neck until he reaches her hairline. He closes his hand around the base of her skull until his middle finger is above her right ear and his thumb above her left. He squeezes and lifts pulling her somewhat forcefully to him. She lets go of the railing and has to stand on her tiptoes as he pulls her back until his mouth is at her left ear. Holding her for a moment he asks, "Did I tell you to let go of the railing?"

"No." She replies.

"Did I tell you to touch me?"

"No." She says again.

"I didn't think so. How should we punish you?" he says.

She tenses but not knowing how to answer remains silent.

"Nipple or ass?" He asks.

"What?" She says, not understanding.

Without letting go of her head he quickly reaches up with his left hand and twists her nipple. She cries out and reaches for his hand but it is already gone as he steps back from her and slaps her ass hard. Crying out again she reaches for her ass but he quickly lets go of her and grabs both of her wrists and returns her hands to their original position. She struggles for a moment breathing hard at the sudden assault on her body. "Shhhh," he whispers as he lets go of her she can feel his body covering her back, his thighs resting against her stinging ass. He slowly caresses down both arms, shifting to her sides and down her hips. Slowly back up again, under her arms and then cupping both of her breasts. He softly moves his palms over both of her rock hard nipples as the stinging in her left begins to turn into a feeling of pleasure.

"Now you know. Let's try this again." He says.

She nods and moans as he takes her earlobe in his mouth. It is all she can do to keep looking down and away. She wants so badly to see his face; to look upon the man with whom she has apparently traded up her will to for the simple promise of physical pleasure.

She jumps as another door is opened somewhere below them. He seems undisturbed as he starts to nibble on her neck and kiss his way down her back, his hands accompanying as they move away from her sensitive nipples and heaving chest. There are footsteps rising from below and she begins to inadvertently back away from the railing. A hand pushing in the middle of her back reminds her to stay.

He continues kissing his way down her back, between her shoulders, along her side and then across. Now down the middle of her back. She moans in pleasure and relief as the sound of another door opening reaches them. As it is closing he works his way lower. She can see his knees on either side of her ankles just as she feels his kisses reach her lower back just above her ass.

She jumps as the sound of the door slamming coincides with him pulling her ass apart. He lets go and nibbles on each of her cheeks, biting hard and quick with just his front teeth. Again he pulls her ass apart and her breath catches as she feels him quickly lick her asshole and then inhale deeply. He places his hands on her hips and pulls her against his face. She feels his tongue again as it licks her darkest treasure and she slowly rotates her hips on his face. He stands suddenly leaving her hips to rotate against an absent pleasure. He pushes her forward so that she is leaning out over the abyss, the bottom of her rib cage presses against the top railing. She is momentarily afraid she is going to be punished again when he steps to her side, shoves his hand between her legs from behind and grabs her crotch like he would a handle on a suitcase. He places his other hand in the middle of her back and forcefully lifts her off the ground. She keeps a hold of the rail as he pulls her lower body back and away. Her upper torso is dragged backward across the railing, her tits bunching up and the popping over. Her head is just inside the railing as he sets her lower half down. Her arms stretch out more to the side but retain their grip on the top rail, her legs are spread wantonly, her nipples pointing forcefully at the cold surface beneath her feet.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me," she whispers.

A loud crack resounds in her ears and she jumps more from the sound than the fact that he just slapped her ass quite hard.

"I thought you were nasty!" He leans down and growls in her ear, "me fucking you isn't nasty. You're naked and bent over in a public stairwell. Your cunt is probably wetter than it has been in years without getting fucked first and all you can say is that you want me to fuck you?" He slaps her ass again, the echo bounding down the stairwell as she groans in pleasure and pain from his assault.

"Try again."

He hasn't moved his left hand; it is still lightly resting in the middle of her back. He is still standing at her side. She hangs her head and peering under her outstretched arm eyes his engorged cock. Staring at it she says, louder this time, "I want you to fuck me like the nasty bitch I am."

Reaching behind her with his right hand he roughly shoves two fingers into her hungry box. "That's better," he says. Her eyes close and she exhales slowly as her mouth opens in acknowledgment of the relief her body feels at finally getting something, anything, inside of her.

"Keep going," he whispers, as he slowly starts to fuck her with his hand.

"I need you to fuck me with your cock," she whispers back.

Her pussy is suddenly empty as the same sound and feeling attack her senses. She closes her eyes and squeals in frustration as the stinging in her ass overwhelms the pleasure she was receiving from his fingers.

"Louder," he states simply as a cacophony of feelings and thoughts flood her over stimulated body. Her need begins to drive her, her empty hole crying out through every neurological path it can find to her brain. She begins to discard all of her conscious objections and considerations of the intellectual term "consequence". Suddenly getting caught doesn't matter as much as getting stretched open. Being seen doesn't matter as much as being used. Feeling embarrassed doesn't matter as much as feeling like a total slut. Her eyes snap open, as she understands what he wants of her, what her body wants of her. "I'm sorry," she replies in a tone more fitted to speaking at a gathering than trying to be quiet in a place that echoes all of its secrets.

She continues, "I want you to fuck me with anything you want. Your cock, your fingers, your tongue, whatever."

"Good," she hears as the fingers return to her slippery hole.

"I want you to use me, take me, fill me, split me open. Fuck me in every hole, any hole, you want!"

He picks up his pace and inserts a third finger now. She starts fucking back, her desire rising with her thoughts and words.

"That's it, stretch my filthy cunt. Use it, it's yours, do whatever you want with it, just keep fucking it with something!"

He starts pummeling her with his fingers. Fucking her so hard he is almost lifting her off of the ground. Her head flies up and her eyes open as he shoves his hand in deep and holds it there. She realizes he's added his fourth finger. He starts to quickly vibrate his hand without pulling it out. She can feel his thumb pressing against her ass.

"That's it baby, fuck my ass too! It's yours, take it!"

And so he does, shoving his thumb in while still vibrating her whole body. The risk, the buildup, and the filthiness of what she is doing come screaming up to her sense of right and wrong. Everything about this is wrong, perverse, immoral and worthy of the most intense orgasm she might have ever had. It comes crashing through the thoughts and overwhelms her and she throws her head back in a silent scream. Her whole body tenses and just as she begins to shake she sees the door start to open on the landing below.

Feeling her orgasm overtake her he ceases the onslaught of her well-worked hole and just holds his hand still. All four fingers are still deep inside her as well as his thumb, which is fully inserted into her ass.

He watches her head come up and from his vantage point to the side of her also sees and hears the door open. He doesn't move as her body begins to shake violently, her cunt pulsating on what is essentially his entire hand, her asshole clenched tightly around his thumb. He can tell that she sees the door as she suddenly tenses even harder; she pushes against the rail but does not attempt to stand. He holds her firmly in place as her shaking subsides but only because she is holding it in. Her muscles clamp down on his hand and stay flexed contrary to their rapid spasms of a moment ago.

He watches her as a man emerges from the doorway. The unsuspecting figure is focused on a cell phone or blackberry and starts immediately down the flight of stairs ahead of him. She sees this as well and realizes that the most critical moment has passed; he did not glance up while on the landing. Relaxing a bit she is caught off guard by the resurgence of her orgasm. Having not run its course before the slight relaxation of her will allows it to break free of its jailer and it jumps right back to its full intensity. Surprised, she gasps audibly even as her right hand leaves the railing in a feeble attempt to stop it from escaping her lips.

Her head drops and her eyes snap shut, as she can't bear to see if the interloper in the stairwell hears and thus looks up. Thus she misses the moment when the man on the stairs does glance up. Being a third of the way down the flight his angle is such that he can see her hand on the rail, the top of her head and the bare chest of the man seemingly standing beside her. Still reeling from her orgasm she doesn't hear the faltering steps as the two men lock gazes. The man on the stair, having the momentum of travel, does not stop completely and it takes several steps for all of the possibilities of the situation to run through his mind. As he is about to decide the man above flashes him a smile not unlike that of the Cheshire cat and suddenly he knows. As the shock registers he drops his gaze back to his feet and continues down the stairs, stumbling as he hurries his pace.

As the intruder vanishes under the edge of the landing he slowly pulls his hand from her. The footsteps become more and more faint and she lets out a low sigh into her hand as she is left with that empty feeling again. She replaces her hand on the rail and slowly opens her eyes. Just as she is starting to catch her breath she is suddenly and roughly jerked by her hair to an upright position. Her stance is such that she has to let go of the railing to stand and as she does her hands go involuntarily to her head and the hand pulling her hair. They are stopped midway by his forearm, which knocks them down his free hand grabbing her right wrist tightly to keep them there. She squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her teeth to keep from crying out or inadvertently looking at him.

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