I Rang the Doorbell and Wouldn't Let Her Take a Single Step Forward

There are nights you don't plan. This was one of them. I'd spent the whole week thinking about Daniela, about the way she looked at me out of the corner of her eye whenever she thought I wasn't noticing, and at eleven that night I found myself standing in front of her building without even remembering starting the car.

I climbed the three flights of stairs on foot. I didn't want to give the elevator time to make me hesitate. When I reached her door, I stood there for a second with my finger hovering over the bell, listening to my own breathing. I was already hard, pressed tight against my fly, just thinking about what I was going to do to her.

I rang it.

Daniela was thirty-six years old and carried herself in a way you can't learn: warm skin that seemed to hold the sun from the entire summer, dark, wavy hair that fell into disarray when she let it down, brown eyes that pinned you in place without asking permission. She wasn't tall—she barely came up to my shoulder—but she had curves that hooked you: small, firm tits that fit perfectly in your hand, with dark nipples that hardened at the slightest touch, and a round, pert ass that moved on its own with every step.

I was twenty-nine then, with short hair, skin lighter than hers, and arms worked hard from hauling boxes all day in the warehouse. A neatly trimmed beard and that slightly roguish look that, according to her, was the first thing she had liked about me. And a cock that, whenever I got hard, she watched with a mixture of arousal and respect that drove me crazy.

For weeks we'd been caught in that game of glances that never led anywhere: a message at odd hours, an excuse to see each other for five minutes, a brush of hands at parting that lasted a second too long. Neither of us had made a move. That night, I decided I would.

She opened the door with a surprised look on her face, still wearing her house clothes, her hair gathered in a loose bun and her feet bare. And before she could ask me what I was doing there, I was already kissing her.

It was the kind of kiss that doesn't let you move forward. I stepped inside, pushing the door shut behind me with my foot without letting go of her mouth, thrusting my tongue deep inside, devouring her the way I'd dreamed of doing for seven days. She took half a step backward and I stopped her with my hands on her waist, grabbing her ass through the fabric, squeezing it with both hands until I heard her moan against my mouth. No, that night I wasn't going to let her get as far as the sofa.

—What are you doing here? —she managed to say against my lips.

—I came to fuck you —I replied—. I couldn't wait any longer.

And it was true.

I slapped the entryway light off. The only thing left was the gray light coming through the living-room window, enough to make out our silhouettes. I liked the dimness. It made everything more about skin and less about appearance.

I kissed her again, more slowly, devouring that small mouth I'd imagined so many times during the week. I slipped my hand beneath her T-shirt and moved up to touch her tits, bare beneath it, squeezing them, pinching her already-hard nipples between two fingers until I drew a hoarse moan from her. With my other hand I moved down and rubbed her pussy through her thin lounge pants. She was hot and wet; I could feel it through the fabric. We got heated in a matter of seconds. Her hands rose from my waist to my face, traced my jaw, then came back down, searching for the hem of my shirt, and from there went straight to my cock, squeezing it through my jeans.

—Fuck, you're really hard —she whispered, biting her lip.

—All yours —I answered in her ear.

I took that moment to turn her around.

***

I guided her toward the bedroom without stopping kissing her, both of us walking backward, tripping over her slippers and the rug, laughing halfway between kisses. The room smelled like her, like that perfume of hers I'd recognize anywhere with my eyes closed.

There was a large full-length mirror in the bedroom, propped against the wall. I positioned her right in front of it, with her back to me, and moved her hair away from her neck with calculated slowness. I felt her skin prickle beneath my fingers.

—Don't close your eyes —I told her softly, almost in her ear—. Look at yourself. Look at how I'm going to fuck you. Look at how you're going to come for me.

She shifted a little, caught between embarrassment and desire, but she didn't look away. I began undressing her slowly, pulling her T-shirt over her head, leaving those small tits exposed in the reflection. Her nipples had turned hard and dark, and I took them in both hands from behind, squeezing and pinching them while she watched in the mirror as my fingers played with her body.

—Look at those nipples of yours —I said against her ear—. Look how they harden.

I yanked her pants down along with her panties, leaving her completely naked, lit only by the gray light from the window. She thrust her hips back, seeking me, and felt how hard I was against her ass, trapped inside my jeans, outlining the cleft through the fabric.

—What a cock —she panted—. Take it out already.

—Not yet.

Her hands flew backward, hungry, while I kissed her neck, licking and softly nibbling the curve that descended toward her shoulder. One hand remained on her tits; with the other I moved down over her belly and her shaved pubis until I reached her pussy. She was already soaked. I ran one finger all along her slit and lifted it, glistening, showing it to her in the mirror.

—Look at you —I told her—. Suck it.

I put my finger in her mouth and she sucked it clean, watching herself, watching me, her eyes black with arousal.

I lowered my hand again, and this time I pushed two fingers into her pussy, all the way in, while I searched for her clitoris with my thumb. I began moving them slowly, fingering her, feeling her pussy tighten around them and feeling her start to gush over my wrist. She clung to my arms, spread her legs, and pushed her ass back to drive my fingers deeper inside.

—Like that —she moaned—, like that, don't stop.

The cool air in the room had her nipples rock-hard. I pinched them with my other hand while continuing to finger her, faster and deeper, feeling her hips move on their own, searching for release.

—Turn around —I asked, pulling my fingers out just before she came.

She turned with an angry look at being left hanging, and we kissed again, this time with genuine hunger, devouring each other's mouths, tangling our tongues as if our lives depended on it. Her hands never stopped: they pulled my shirt off, then clumsily and eagerly undid my pants. She yanked them down along with my underwear and my cock sprang free, hard, pointing at her face. I was left with my jeans tangled around my ankles, chest heaving, and she was on her knees in front of me before I could react.

She looked up. That image—Daniela looking up at me from below, her eyes shining in the dimness, my cock an inch from her mouth—is worth more than anything. She gripped me with both hands, one at the base, the other around my balls. She knew exactly what drove me crazy.

She started at the bottom, slowly, running her tongue all the way up my cock from my balls to the tip, licking it like an ice cream, then going back down, unhurried, enjoying making me wait. She sucked my balls one at a time, taking them into her mouth, while her hand stroked me slowly, gripping tight. I gathered her dark hair with my hands so it wouldn't get in the way, so I could see her whole face while I ate her out.

When she finally took me all the way into her mouth and began that slow back-and-forth, in and out, I had to clench my teeth to keep from coming right there. She swallowed me down to the root, until the tip touched her throat and tears sprang to her eyes, then pulled me out shining with saliva, strings hanging from her lip. She took me back in, again, faster, sucking me with her cheeks hollowed, looking up at me.

—Fuck, yes, suck it —I growled, gripping her hair with both hands, setting the pace for her.

I fucked her mouth like that for a while, pushing her head against my cock, hearing her gag and drool over my balls. She let me, her hands on my thighs, taking everything I pushed into her.

—Stop —I told her, giving her hair a gentle tug—. Stop or I'll come in your mouth. I want more of you.

***

With the taste of my cock still in her mouth, I lifted her up and we kissed again with pure fire. She tried to drag me toward the bed, but I stopped her again. I wanted her there, standing in front of the mirror.

I turned her around once more. I lifted her chin with two fingers so we could see ourselves reflected again: my hands moving slowly over her neck, her tits, her belly, descending to her soaked pussy, while my mouth claimed that spot on her neck that made her tremble.

She moaned louder when I pushed two fingers inside her again, this time without stopping, fingering her while my hard cock was wedged between her buttocks. She leaned back, felt it hard and hot against her ass, and said in a hoarse voice, almost breathless:

—Put it in already, please. Fuck me.

That was all it took.

She leaned forward, planted both hands against the mirror, arched her back, and pushed that perfect ass out toward me. I grabbed one cheek in each hand, spread them, and took a second to admire her pink, glistening pussy, already open to receive me. I placed the tip at her entrance, rubbed it up and down along her slit, coating myself, and it was she—lowering her ass slowly—who sank down onto my cock, opening inch by inch until she had all of me inside, until my balls struck her clitoris. She let out a long, guttural moan that stayed engraved in my memory.

—Oh, fuck, it's so big —she moaned—. You've filled me so completely.

She watched the reflection. She saw how I held her neck firmly but carefully, how I gripped her hip with my other hand and began thrusting into her, slowly at first, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in to the hilt, then faster, harder, until the sound of my pelvis striking her ass filled the room. Every thrust made her tits tremble and tore a short, high, involuntary moan from her.

—Look at yourself —I repeated, gently tugging her hair to make her lift her face—. Look at how I'm fucking you. Look how beautiful you are with my cock inside you.

She held her gaze in the mirror for as long as she could, mouth parted, watching my cock move in and out of her pussy, until pleasure forced her eyes shut and she let her forehead fall against the glass. I slapped her ass hard, leaving the red print of my hand on her skin.

—Don't close your eyes. Watch me fuck you.

She opened them again. I kept thrusting into her, gripping her hips with both hands, burying myself inside her to the balls, feeling her pussy tighten around me, feeling her begin to gush down my thighs. I played with the rhythm, stopping on purpose whenever I felt her getting too close, pulling all the way out to rub my cock along the cleft of her ass, then plunging it back in hard when she least expected it, until she begged me to stop and pulled me toward the bed.

***

I sat on the edge of the mattress with my cock hard and glistening with her juices, and she climbed on top of me, straddling me. She gripped it with one hand, positioned it at her entrance, and dropped down hard, swallowing me whole. She began moving however she wanted, setting her own rhythm, rising and falling on my cock with her hands braced against my chest for leverage.

I lost myself in her small tits, taking them in both hands, bringing them to my mouth one after another, sucking them slowly and biting her nipples while digging my fingers into her back and ass. She rode faster and faster, bouncing on my cock, rolling her hips in circles to rub her clitoris against my pubis.

—That's it, ride my cock —I growled, grabbing her ass with both hands and helping her move—. Fuck me, come on top of me.

—Yes —she panted—, yes, fuck, like that, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop...

She rose and fell faster and faster, braced on my shoulders, her head thrown back, her tits bouncing against my face, until her entire body went taut and she came on top of me with a shudder I felt run through her from head to toe. Her pussy clenched around my cock like a fist, spilling over my balls, and she collapsed onto my chest with a long, exhausted moan.

I gave her a second to catch her breath, then took the opportunity to turn her over, lay her on her back, and kiss her again. But this time I moved downward slowly, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along her neck, between her tits, sucking her nipples one by one, then descending over her belly. I wanted to eat her pussy until I made her scream.

I spread her legs wide and took a second to look: her pink pussy, open, soaked, glistening in the dimness. I traced the insides of her thighs with my tongue, moving slowly upward, until her hands went to my hair of their own accord, pushing me toward her. She knows how much I like this. Watching her arch her back, squeeze her thighs around my face, while her hands push me away and pull me closer at the same time, unable to decide.

I ran my tongue all along her slit, from bottom to top, savoring her, then stayed there playing with her clitoris, sucking it and circling it with the tip of my tongue while I slipped a finger inside her. She began moving her hips against my face, fucking my mouth with her pussy, moaning louder and louder.

—That's it, eat me, eat all of me —she panted, tugging at my hair.

I slid in a second finger while keeping my tongue on her clitoris, curling my fingers upward, searching for that spot inside her. I pressed against her from the outside with the thumb of my other hand, over her pubic mound, and she couldn't hold back any longer: she came again, hard, twisting on the sheets, pressing my head against her pussy with both hands, soaking my chin.

I climbed back over her with my mouth glistening, kissed her so she could taste herself on my tongue, and gripped my cock to position it at her entrance. Now, without pausing, both of us seeking the same thing. I drove it into her with one thrust, all the way to the bottom, and she arched her back, screamed, and clung to my shoulders, digging her nails into me.

I fucked her hard, with her legs raised over my shoulders, thrusting deep, all the way to my balls, hearing the wet slap of her soaked pussy with every stroke. She felt me swell inside her, felt my cock grow even harder just before I let go.

—I want you to come inside me —she whispered in my ear, digging her nails into my back—. Fill me completely.

And that's what I did. I thrust faster and harder, feeling her pussy tighten around me again, feeling her begin to come for the third time, and I released inside her with a growl, emptying myself in spurts while she bit my shoulder to keep from screaming. We finished together, me filling her until it overflowed down her thighs, her clenching around me, both of us breathless and speechless, clinging to each other with a strength that had nothing to do with sex.

I sat up just enough to breathe. The cool air in the room brushed our sweaty skin, hers warm, mine paler, still pressed together. My semen slowly dripped from her open pussy and soaked the sheets. We kissed slowly now, tasting what had just happened, knowing that night we had given ourselves to each other completely.

We hadn't planned anything. That's why, I suppose, it was so perfect.

Even today, whenever I pass in front of that building, I look up toward the third floor.