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Then I feel a hand on my shoulder.I spin around in my chair and gasp as I realise who is standing behind me.It’s you.It is actually you.I try to speak, but the words won’t come out.I try to stand up, but my legs have gone weak.The moment that I have imagined previously, the one where I practically jump into your arms, say something witty and sexy and then kiss you passionately, does not happen.Instead, I sit there, words failing me, blushing fifty shades of red. Much to your obvious amusement.You break the silence with a line that shows how well you already know me.“I think you need a proper drink.”I’m grateful for the momentary distraction as you call a waitress over and order some beers, a type that I have never tried before but that I recall you telling me about once before. This gives me a few vital moments to compose myself, to find my voice again.You start the conversation by explaining, without apology, that you would not pass up the opportunity to visit me whilst I am in your. .." He whispered, and kissed her neck, his wet tongue sliding over her skin. She could feel his teeth grazing her flesh too, and it sent rivulets of panic through her. He bit her sometimes, leaving marks and scars, drawing blood. It was nothing too serious, but the pain was always unwanted. She reached down between his legs and undid his trousers and he moaned approvingly. She pulled his cock out and started rubbing it hard.He was moaning and breathing on her neck and then against her mouth. He started speaking filthy words into her mouth. "Ohh fuck! Your cunt is aching for me, isn't it? For my huge fat cock to ram up into you so hard it hurts. Isn't it?" He grabbed her belt buckle and pulled her jeans down quickly, ripping them down to her ankles so he could lift her small body up against the wall and duck beneath them, then wrap her legs around his waist. Michael shoved his hand deep between her legs, where it was warm and dry. He prodded his inexpert fingers around her pussy,.
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