Biting her lip, Georgina glides to the side of the pool, hoists herself onto the ledge, and stands underneath my window—giving me my first wholly unimpeded view of her naked body. And she’s glorious. Her curves are an hourglass in the moonlight. Her nipples erect. Her wet hair is slicked back, showcasing her high cheekbones and full lips. She’s a goddess. A fantasy come to life. And... Oh, God, I think I’m gonna come.
Condensation begins pooling on the glass in front of my face. I’m a caged lion, an unruly beast trapped behind glass, being teased with a slab of meat. Oh, fuck, I’d pay her any amount of money if she’d come to me now and suck my dick. If only she’d get her hot ass up here and let me touch and lick every square inch of her and then fuck her every which way.
“Touch yourself,” I mouth to her. And then again. And again. And again. Until, finally, her face lights up with understanding. Her body trembling with arousal, she sits on the ground, spreads her smooth legs wide, and touches herself, right where I’m dying to lick her.
Oh, God, this is so fucking hot.
With a loud groan, I lick at the glass, wishing my tongue were licking her sweet pussy. And that does it for her, apparently. Her eyes roll back into her head, her body stiffens and then quakes with her orgasm.
As my balls tighten and ripple, I grip my cock and aim it right at her tits, and, two seconds later, I’m streaking the glass with the physical evidence of my need. When the deed is done, and my painting complete, I press both palms against the glass, yearning to touch her. It’s a good thing I don’t do coke anymore. Because, I swear to God, if I were high on blow in this moment, I’d grab that armchair from the corner, crash it into this window, and leap through the jagged, gaping hole to get to her naked body two floors below. Which, obviously, wouldn’t be good.
“Come to me,” I mouth.
And she immediately responds by rising to her feet, her tits aimed right at me, and lapping at the air with the full length of her tongue, like she’s licking up every last drop of my cum off the window.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” I murmur, every cell in my body exploding with desire. “Come. Here. Right. Now.”
A naughty smile breaks free across her sultry face, telling me she’s understood my command perfectly. To my thrill, she moves from her spot... but not to come to me, as instructed. No. Georgina is having too much fun torturing me to do that. She grabs a towel off a nearby lounger and returns to her spot, which is where she begins drying herself off, for my benefit. Slowly, Georgina towels off her arms and shoulders. Slowly, Georgina dries off her perfect tits and stomach and pussy. And, finally, with a little wink, she turns around, bends completely over—thereby giving me a view that nearly gives me a heart attack—and slowly proceeds to towel off her feet and shins and calves.
“Oh my God, you evil woman,” I whisper, pressing my forehead against the glass. “You’re the devil.”
Her task complete, she straightens up and turns around to face me again, her tits pushed forward and her nipples erect. And then, with a little swish of her hips, she strides across the patio toward the French doors... and disappears from my line of sight.
My heart crashing with anticipation, I race to my bedroom door and press my ear against it, awaiting the sound of her footsteps in the hallway. She’s got to be coming to me now, right? She wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave me alone tonight after that.
Finally, after what feels like half my lifetime, I hear movement in the hallway. But the sound stops before it gets to my door. Is Georgina standing at the far end of the hallway, deciding whether to come all the way to the end, to my room? Or is she summoning the resolve to head to her own room, just to emphasize her point that, although she’s staying here with me, she’s far from a sure thing?
Yeah, I know exactly what’s going on inside that glorious, devious mind of hers. She’s standing at the end of the hallway, deciding which she wants more in this moment: to fuck me... or punish me?