Talking Him In

"OK, I'm pulling into the parking garage," he said into his cellphone. Juggling the phone, the stick shift, plus the most hopeful erection he'd had in a while, made navigating all those hairpin turns a little tricky.

"I still can't really believe this is happening. I mean, how do I know you're really here?" He blurted it out and felt stupid instantly, as a pause hung between them on the line. She'd been chatting with him for weeks, and seemed eager to meet with him, with the way they'd steamed up every wire their words crossed. Of course she'd show up, right? Especially after she'd picked the place.

Her voice came back with understanding, and maybe a little exasperation. "That is a good point, I guess you don't know, really. Even though I'm pacing up and down in this hotel room, nervous as hell about this. I don't know if you're really coming here either."

"Oh, I am, I am. I'm pulling into a parking space now, and I'll be right in." More juggling - in neutral, parking brake, breath mint...

A giggle came across the phone. "Oh God, I think I see your headlights. Maybe you really are coming to see me."

He grinned involuntarily - it was such a nice giggle. Looking around, he realized that the spot he'd pulled into, on the third deck of the garage, faced the hotel across a narrow alleyway. "Wow, maybe you do see my headlights." He flipped the high beams on and off twice. "See that?"

The giggle again. "Yes, I do. Wow." They chuckled at each other, both hearing relief and anticipation.

As he turned off the car and pocketed his keys, just to fill the air, he said "I still don't know where you are, though."

"Well, walk over to the railing, stupid."

He got out of his car and walked forward until he was leaning against the low concrete barrier that kept his car from landing in the alley. Sure enough, off to the left and a few feet below his eye level, a room light was blinking on and off behind some opened drapes.

"I see the light going on and off, but there's just this shadowy shape in front of it."

A sigh from her end, still full of anticipation. The room light went off, and suddenly the light was in front of her and off to the side as she turned on a lamp. He saw her fully - the sight angle was perfect - and he froze solid, erection even more hopeful. He simply stood staring, noting that she had the sense to be talking on a headset, but mostly just taking in the sight of her body.

After a couple of seconds, her voice: "So... Wow?"

He hurried to agree. "That outfit really suits you. You're stunning." She did look good - business attire - she'd said she'd be coming straight from a special day.

"Thank you." Neither moved, neither spoke. He remembered scraps of the things she'd said, during the flirting that had led up to this, and again blurted out something on impulse.

"This could be some kind of setup. How do I know you're not wearing a wire or something? Lift your shirt."

"WHAT?"

"Lift your shirt."

Silence on the other end of the line - oh shit, he'd thought she'd like that, what if he'd screwed it up now...

But slowly her hands moved to her blouse, untucked it from her skirt, and tugged it upward. Inch by inch, her midsection came into view.

"Can you see that?" Her breathing seemed to be a little faster - but her hands seemed to have stopped rising with the edge of the blouse just above her navel. Now it was her waiting out the pause, and wondering.

"Yes, I can see you perfectly." Small pause, big gamble. He was almost sure she would like it. "Higher, please."

His breathing was definitely faster, and she smiled to hear it. She knew she had him completely at this point - he wouldn't move until her hands did - and that she could make him crazier for her at every moment. It was so nice to be seen, to be wanted... god, he'd be an animal when he finally got to her...

"Holy shit! Oh, that's sweet!"

His voice broke into her reverie, and she twitched a little bit. Without consciously deciding to, she had continued tugging her blouse up, and a glance at her reflection in the window confirmed that her tits had popped out. (She'd ditched the bra when getting ready - that was supposed to be a surprise, but...) Suddenly he was talking, talking fast, maybe louder than he thought.

"You look amazing. You ARE amazing. I have got to get my hands on you... Are those nipples as hard as they look?"

Only because of the way you sound, she thought. But to him she said nothing, just pushed her blouse higher with her thumbs, so she could tug her tits between fingertips. Let him think about that for a minute - she was feeling something wild stir within her with every touch.

It was only a few seconds before his voice came again - he couldn't help that it sounded more like a growl. As clearly as he could, he said, "The skirt. I have to see under the skirt now."

Her hands cupped, separated, stroked. "I'm not wearing a wire, see?"

"I KNOW, but I still have to see you lift that skirt."

Her hands never stopped massaging, caressing, displaying, but she didn't move another muscle, at least not any one that he could see. She was riding on his words, feeling her cunt growing enthusiastically damp with every sound. Risk it, she thought.

"Tell me why you have to see it."

"It's your pussy, darling. You have to show me that pussy." His voice stumbled and broke as he said it - with each word, he was shocking himself to realize how true it was, how thoroughly he wanted her.

He watched her mouth purse in determination, as she quickly dragged her blouse back almost into place and spun away from the window.

Oh shit, oh shit. "Wait, baby, don't be mad, I just - oh..." Suddenly he was leaning into the concrete barrier with his hips, to keep his cock from jumping all the way across the alley.

She giggled again to hear him gasp, mind focused on the sounds coming through her headset. Leaning over the nearby chair, balanced on her high heels and one hand's fingertips. The other hand finishing tugging her skirt into a resting position on her back, leaving her ass weaving back and forth. Sure, she'd given away the no-panties surprise too, but she was amazed at how much she was getting out of it. She knew she was wanting attention tonight, and she'd never known how close she could come to exploding just by letting herself go a little farther to get it.

"Still don't see any wires, do you? You fucker, I should leave you out there for saying that." But I'll bet you talk your way in, she didn't say.

"Oh, you sweet bitch, you know I'm looking, you know that ass of yours makes me hard. I still can't see your pussy, though."

Her feet shuffled farther apart, again before she even thought. Her body knew how to capture him, even as her mind was split between surprise at how willing she was, and thrills at how good that felt. Make him say it, her instincts sang, make him want it even more... Her hand reached back, parted her labia, found her clit, tingled on contact.

"You bastard," she panted. "Tell me what you see. Tell me it's what you want." Her hand circling now, rubbing, tiny sounds she hoped he'd hear, anticipation building... mind all gone and body in charge.

She heard him stutter, out of his mind. He wasn't in charge either, he just knew he wanted to drive her higher, that he had to see all that she could show. The words that tumbled out of him made no sense, just pure lust as language, but somehow they guided her anyway. Somehow she knew to raise her ass higher in the air, to shift her weight forward as if preparing for his thrust, to make a perfect vision as the waves of tension built.

When she screamed at him and shuddered, sound from phone and sight through alley, he had to force himself to lean away from the barrier. Otherwise his cock would have ground through his pants and into the concrete. He began to recover himself as she let herself collapse over the chair, and the passion in his voice became controlled.

"I am finished talking to you until I'm sunk balls deep in that pretty, pretty cunt. I hope you're fucking ready, because the next thing you feel will be me, and I'm going to fill you so full."

"Hurry..." was all that came back from her end, sounding more like moaning than like words.

He snapped his clamshell shut, heard it echo as he turned, and he marched like one possessed toward the stairs.