0 comments/ 97635 views/ 2 favorites Up on the Roof By: lothlorien Work was slow. After the umpteenth lap of the mall I decided to go hide. I grabbed my novel and a coffee, told dispatch that I'd be checking electrical rooms, and headed to the roof. Luckily, it was Saturday so there wouldn't be any HVAC guys around, I thought. There were one or two that I wouldn't mind finding, but no one paid contractors overtime to fix a/c units on a 70* day. I resigned myself to solitude and sat down to read. The novel was interesting enough, a story about an Englishman in WWI and his French amore. I flipped page after page, enjoying the sunshine, when all of a sudden the story got steamier than I expected. It was a simple paragraph about two people doing it against a wall; pretty straight forward, but it got me thinking…. I put my book down, leaned back, closed my eyes, and lost myself in a fantasy. Usually I can enjoy a five-minute fantasy and go cheerfully on my way, but today was different. The more I let my thoughts wander, the hotter and hotter I got. Finally, I knew I couldn't go back inside without taking care of myself. I took a quick peek around to assure myself I enjoyed adequate privacy, and unhooked my belt. I slid my finger down to my clit and slowly between my lips. I was so turned on that my panties were thoroughly soaked and I knew I couldn't wear them back inside. I took another quick peek around the roof and pulled off my pants. Before I slid my panties off, I had an idea. I took my handcuff case off my belt and started to rub myself through my panties with it. The sun nicely warmed the leather case, and I imagined that it was someone's finger teasing me through the thin cotton. I pushed the edge of it hard against me and could feel how it pushed my panties between my soaking lips and against my by now electrified clit. The orgasm was building and I decided to let it happen rather than teasing myself. I was just starting to rock my hips when the sun went out. My eyes snapped open to see a man standing in front of me. "Quite a little show you've been putting on for me," he said. "Hope I stopped you in time." I was so shocked I had lost my voice. I could only look up at him, my mouth forming silent words. "Cat got your tongue? Tell me – did you come or not?" I managed to squeak out a noise that could be construed as "No". "Good. Now here's the story – I didn't see anything up here as long as you do me a favor." I had a feeling I knew what the favor would entail, but still could only nod mutely. "I'm gonna sit down right over here," he continued, "and you're gonna do exactly what I tell you to do." He sat down just out of arm's reach and rested his hand on the bulge in his pants. "First, you're gonna take them panties off." He held my gaze as I slowly pulled my underwear off. "Toss 'em over here" he directed. I threw them over and he caught them. He unzipped his jeans, pulled out his cock, and began to rub my panties all over it. "Now, let's see. You got a flashlight on you?" I nodded, wishing I hadn't decided to carry a 15" Maglite this particular day. "Take out that flashlight, and show me how you suck cock." Watching him rub his cock with my panties had gotten me into the game at this point, so I pulled out the flashlight and began to lick the tip of it. "That's it," he encouraged me, "Rub your lips all over it. Now use your tongue – let me see what a good little cock-sucker you are." Still holding his gaze, I began to lick the long black handle up and down using the tip of my tongue. Watching him watch me was making my pussy drip, so I slid my free hand down there. I had barely touched my slit when he told me to stop. "Now that you've got that flashlight all wet, why don't you just shove it up that wet little gash of yours?" he suggested. "Nice and slow, too. I want to see your lips all wrapped around it as you push it in." He moved closed to me so his knees were almost touching mine. "Do it – fuck yourself for me. Do it NOW!" His eyes fixed on my wet hole and I didn't see him blink once as I slowly worked the handle up my pussy. When I had as much in as I could take, I started to slowly fuck myself with it. "That's really nice," he commented without looking away, "but why don't you do it harder?" I started to fuck myself harder and harder, watching his eyes follow the handle in and out of me. He began to stroke his entire shaft for me, matching my thrusts with the flashlight. "You like fucking yourself for me, don't you?" he asked. "I know you're wishing it was me in there, fucking that wet slit of yours." I pulled the flashlight out and moved closer to the hard cock, which was so tantalizingly out of reach. In one sudden motion, I was pushed onto my back and his cock was inside of me. He put his hands under my ass to push himself all the way in and as he did, I came so hard I screamed. As I came back to reality, I opened my eyes to see him kneeling in front of me. "Now it's my turn, doll. You ready to suck the cum right out of my balls?" I nodded and started to crawl towards him but he stopped me with a wave of his hand. "Lay on your back again," he directed. I rolled onto my back and to my puzzlement he picked up the flashlight. "You'll want this in a minute" he laughed. Instead of kneeling over my chest facing me, he knelt over my face. He lowered himself just far enough that his balls tickled up against my lips. "Here's the drill – you're gonna use one hand to fuck yourself with that flashlight, the other hand to play with your tits, and you're gonna take my load in your mouth. Got it?" My answer was to lightly draw my tongue back and forth across his balls. I was so turned on I couldn't concentrate on any sensation for more than a second at a time. My nipples were so sensitive that every time I pinched them I could feel an answering tingle in my pussy. As I worked the flashlight up my soaked cunt he pushed his cock between my lips and started to slowly fuck my mouth. As I would push in with the flashlight, he would push into my mouth and the feeling of having both filled at the same time was mind blowing. As soon as I felt the first hot salty burst of cum in my mouth I came too, grinding as hard as I could against the metal shaft inside of me. My new friend reached behind him and grabbed my panties. "Least I can do is clean you up!" he told me, and gently rubbed my pussy dry. He stood over me, as I lay there half naked and panting. "Have a nice afternoon, babe," he said as he pushed my panties into his pocket and headed for the roof hatch. Up on the Roof It has been a little over two years since we first met online and became lovers from the outset. Although we didn't meet face to face for another three months (and marry within six months of that personal meeting), we have always considered that first meeting in cyberspace as our anniversary date. To that end, I wanted to plan a special surprise for you, my darling. As my wife and the mother of our young child, you have been the source of the greatest joy and happiness to me in our short time together. Now, we have had many adventures together - both in the privacy of our own home and in the public eye – so I knew this time had to take some planning and a bit of imagination if I was to pull off what I wanted to do. First, I picked a date close to our anniversary; not right on the date since I thought that I could pull off a surprise better if I was a week early. I then called Philippe, the maitre d' of our favourite French restaurant. It was located in a somewhat offbeat part of the city and was housed on the street level of a seven-story building. The flights above comprised a very exclusive hotel owned by Philippe's family, all of whom I knew since I was their accountant. It was time to pull in a few favours. What I had planned involved the rooftop garden that was maintained for the daytime relaxation of the hotel guests. In addition to several clusters of patio settings, it had a small heated pool that was screened from the rest of the surrounding buildings. In fact, in this area of town, the Petite Bijoux (the name of the restaurant and hotel) was the tallest structure for many surrounding blocks. After a few calls to Philippe, all was arranged. I called you at home from my office to let you know that I since I was leaving town on business for two days prior to our anniversary and that I had arranged something special for the night of our special date, I thought we could have dinner at the Petite Bijoux the next night. Of course, you were delighted since we were always so well treated there by staff. I detected a bit of disappointment in your voice however since I suspected you had hoped that we would go there on our anniversary. But, since you knew me by now, you knew I would plan something equally romantic. The next night as I awaited you in the living room – the sitter was already upstairs playing with the baby – I could scarcely wait to see you. We had recently gone on a shopping spree and you purchased a spectacular dress and some very sexy lingerie; I was hoping to see you wearing them tonight although I hadn't pressed you to do so. Much to my pleasure, I watched the stairs as first your well-turned ankles appeared – your feet clad in strappy 5"heels that accentuated the beauty of your exquisite calves. The gossamer gown was secured at your neck with a jeweled dog collar and was cut very closely to the outside of your breasts. From there, it plunged low on your smooth silky back to just above the start of your firm, rounded ass. The soft material cascaded from the empire waistline to your ankles and shimmered silvery white as you descended the stairs. Your breasts and the perky nipples atop them were just barely visible! "Wow!" I was struck virtually speechless; that was the best I could come up with! "You look fantastic, my darling! What is the special occasion?" "Just being with you for a romantic evening together, my sweet husband. Now, shouldn't we be off since you said our reservation is for eight?" You handed me the white soft knitted shawl to put over your bare shoulders as I reached down to run my lips over each smooth surface before I covered them. We walked arm in arm to the car and I seated you in the passenger side. As you swept your legs around, I could see the slit in the side of the gown running almost all the way to the waist and the flash of bare thigh immediately set my heart to racing (and another part of my anatomy to attention). I had to adjust my cock a bit as I walked around the back of the car since it was pinching along my leg and might distract me from my driving! As I slid behind the wheel, you leaned across the console to give me a deep passionate kiss and we sat in the driveway, exchanging kisses and loving words for five minutes until we drew apart and, smiling at each other, buckled up for the hour drive. As we drove, we held hands and chatted happily about our upcoming anniversary and what we wanted to do to celebrate it. I went along quite blithely since I thought my surprise was well in hand. We pulled up in front of the hotel entrance – the restaurant had an entrance off the lobby – and the valet took over the car. As we entered the intimate lobby, both Philippe and his father who ran the hotel approached us. "All is arranged as you requested, sir" Philippe smiled and led us to the private family elevator in the rear of the lobby. As we entered the small car and started our rise, you looked at me with doubt and wonderment. I assured you that Philippe knew what he was doing and my assurance was greeted with a smile from the maitre d' in the mirrored door of the elevator. At last, the car stopped its slow climb and we stepped out into a fairyland of sparkling lights and shimmering candles. The night was balmy and there was virtually no breeze at all so the rooftop paradise was perfect. "Your table awaits," said Philippe as he led us to a solitary candle lit table for two beside the small pool. Floating candles and gardenias adorned the surface of the blue water and you quickly noted that the rest of the roof was void of customers. After he had flourished your linen napkin across your lap – I had held your chair to seat you – Philippe opened the bottle of champagne and poured us each half a flute full and then he disappeared into the elevator. "What is this all about?" you queried. "Happy anniversary, my darling!" I raised my flute to yours and we drank deeply. "But that is two weeks away!" "I wanted to really surprise you but I have to admit, you pleased me much more by wearing such a sexy gown for what you thought was a simple dinner together. I truly love you!" At that moment, our favourite waitress Suzanne exited the elevator carrying a tray laden with various appetizers to start our meal. She almost dropped the tray as she ogled the sexy lines of your bare back as she approached. She winked at me as she passed you to show her appreciation of how you looked and expressed how lucky I am. We have always known that she was bi and had at least on one occasion flattered you by expressing an interest in 'getting to know each other better'. As you had recounted these times to me, you certainly had indicated that someday you might not be averse to trying it out. Neither of us had noticed that another individual had arrived with Suzanne until the romantic sounds of a serenading violin filled the air. You reached across the table and held my hand as we listened for a few moments to the sounds of some of our favourite love songs played so softly and beautifully. Then you asked for an explanation of the plans for the evening. I informed you as follows as we nibbled on the appetizers after Suzanne had disappeared. " I arranged with the hotel to reserve the rooftop garden and pool strictly for ourselves for the night. We will be served dinner while we listen to a serenade, then we will take advantage of the music to dance for a while until Philippe arranges to lock off the elevator and stairs to the roof sometime after we are finished and we can stay up here as long as we want to do whatever we want without being disturbed. Then, since I have a key to call the elevator, I have also arranged for a room for the night and, before you worry, our sitter has agreed to stay the night and as long as it takes for us to arrive home tomorrow" With that, I slid my chair to your side of the table along with my place setting so that we could look out over the city together. In the distance, the lights of the far away office towers sparkled in the night as if in response to the tiny lights strung through the trees and bushes of the rooftop garden and the candles that flickered on the pool and amongst the trees. "Thanks my darling husband for such a romantic setting to mark the best two years of my life" As I responded in kind by drawing you into my arms for a lingering kiss, Suzanne coughed discretely to announce that the next course was here. For the next two and a half hours, we were thoughally spoiled with food and wine and the usual impeccable service the Petite Bijoux was renowned for. Then, after the table had been cleared and taken away, I took you into my arms and we danced together to the strains of slow waltzes played by our violinist. It seemed like a fantasy as I held you in my arms with your arms raised to circle my neck and our lips together as we moved and rocked slowly to the music of the spheres. At 11:30, I thanked the musician with a large tip – I had already paid him handsomely for his services – and followed him to the elevator to send him to the lobby and home. As soon as I heard the car stop, I brought it back to the roof, stepped inside and locked it so it sealed us off from the world. I crossed the roof and, taking you to the five-foot high wall surrounding the roof, I took you into my arms and we started to sway together in a dance of love as we kissed deeply and passionately. My hands slid down your bare back – so warm and silken soft – until they slipped under the back of your dress to cup the warmth of your exposed bum. You were wearing a thong tonight; I know it is not your favourite type but you were obviously feeling sexy and a little naughty tonight. Of course, I loved to feel your skin and watch you sway your barely covered butt as you walked in front of me so I was truly appreciative of your sacrifice and I showed this with my animalistic growls as I massaged your cheeks. As I pulled you closer to me I knew that you could feel the state of my arousal as my cock lengthened down my leg. You ground your pelvis against me as we kissed until we were both moaning with desire. I could feel your heat and, yes, even your liquid warmth as you flooded the tiny patch of material covering your neatly trimmed pussy. Knowing that we were well hidden from prying eyes but still in the open, I became so excited that I reached behind your neck to unclasp the collar that held up the top of that almost sheer gown. As it became unfastened, I pulled away from you and you let it fall to your waist where but a moment later, the entire dress pooled around your feet. You were standing before me clad only in that tiny thong, sheer silk holdups and your strappy shoes. Magnifique! I knelt before you to lift the new dress from around your feet and placed it on the nearest chair. Still on my knees, I clasped you by the bum, and pulled you close enough to allow me to bury my face between your long legs. I ran my tongue hungrily over the sodden patch covering your pouting labia – now fully visible through the soaked silk. Forcing the thin fabric inward, my tongue entered your pussy as I pressed the patch inside you. You twisted your hands in my hair pulling me closer as you cried out in orgasm. After I had attacked your lips and clit for 10 minutes, you pushed me away since the on going pressure had sensitized you so much. I stood before you and stripped off my clothes, laying them across the one remaining chair. Taking your hand, I turned you and placed your hands on the waist high wall surrounding the roof. At this angle, your bum was stretched out for my adoring eyes and, as I grasped your hips and stripped the thong from your body, I slid ever so effortlessly into your well-lubricated cunt. As each inch slipped into the velvet warmth of your pussy, you pressed back against me until we were locked together. As we moved together in a concert of love, our melded cries could be heard as they tumbled from the roof to the streets below. Fortunately, at this hour and in this location, the streets were deserted and only the heavens heard our sounds of joy. All too soon, your pussy walls started to milk me as you cried out that you were cumming again and you begged me to cum with you. As my cock swelled inside you, I met your final thrust with one of my own and our juices flowed together deep inside you and frothed out around my buried cock and down our legs. We were both covered with a fine layer of sweat for our efforts and as we parted, we walked somewhat unsteadily to the outdoor shower by the pool. I pulled the cord to allow the cascade of warm water to cleanse and freshen us. We then unspoken walked to the steps leading into the pool and immersed ourselves in the glowing warm waters. As the water reached your waist, I moved into your waiting arms and we let the buoyancy of the water lift you into my arms and let your legs wrap themselves around my waist. As our lips met and words of love were exchanged, I walked us to the edge of the pool and lifted your streaming body up onto the lip of the pool's apron. I moved between your legs as your spread them for me and started to kiss the inside of your thighs bypassing the inviting lips surrounding your pussy. Both thighs were teased and nipped until your trembling voice begged, "Please! Taste me my darling! I can't wait any longer!" Without further adieu, I pressed my lips to your nether lips and sucked the sweet juices that were gushing forth. Lord, I love the taste of your cum! As it flowed over my tongue and I greedily swallowed all, I again felt the rising of my cock. You have this innate talent to arouse me so quickly after I have just climaxed; you are my wonder woman! I continued my relentless attack on your pussy walls and lips until, after what seemed like hours, I finally drew your aching clitoris into my mouthy and alternately sucked and nipped it gently as you went over the edge of an amazing orgasm. Your cries of "Oh, Bob! Yess! I love you.. please fuck me again!" prompted my next move. While you continued to drip incessantly, I lifted you off the edge of the pool back into the warm water and immediately planted you onto my raging cock. As we moved deeper into the pool, the buoyancy and my hands under your bum rocked you over and over again on my shaft. You were almost sobbing with the intensity of the feelings and I was almost joining you. We came together and the water turned white around us with the combination of our issue. The floating candles and gardenias in the water lent a surreal atmosphere to the whole situation and we floated around in the pool, still joined, as we kissed so passionately. As the candles started to flicker out, the darkness enveloped us and the lights of the pool went off on their timer indicating that it was time for us to leave. We climbed from the pool and once more showered to get the chlorine from our bodies. Beside the shower were thick fluffy towels and complimentary terry cloth housecoats. We donned the robes and picked up our clothing and I unlocked the elevator. As the car descended to the top floor of the hotel where I had reserved our suite for the night, you rested your head on my shoulder and sighed contentedly "I love you so much my darling! Happy Anniversary" "Thank you, my love. As you will soon find out, the night is just beginning. More surprises wait in our room and we have all night to celebrate! I love you so very much, my darling wife" Up on the Roof I couldn't have been happier when you took my hand and asked, "Are you ready?" I'd been ready to leave this party from the moment we'd arrived. All those hoity-toity stuck up people, half of whom were too good even for themselves. When we got in the elevator, you pressed the button for the top floor. "What's on the top floor?" I asked. You gave me that sultry look, which turned me to butter. "The Roof," you answered in a voice that made my buttery self completely melt. You swaggered across the elevator and looked longingly into my eyes. A radiant smile burst across my face, I knew that look. I knew what you had in mind for the roof. Moisture instantly started to build in my loins. I'd been wanting you all day and now knowing I would have you within moments was driving me wild. We got to the top floor and took the stairs out onto the roof. It was a beautiful, balmy night. As I walked out to see the view, you took my hand, spun me around and kissed me. A long passionate kiss that started out with our lips matched up perfectly. Our mouths opened together and your tongue began playing with mine. Our tongues were darting around and exploring each other, feeling the warmth and moisture of each other's mouths. Kissing you always made me weak in the knees. We continued to kiss and gravitated toward the wall by the rooftop entrance. With my back against the wall your hands explored my body. You cupped my breasts in your hands and ran your tongue all over my neck and down my cleavage. Your fingers quickly unbuttoned my shirt buttons, exposing my breasts donned in silk and lace. Your hands wantonly grabbed at my body and slid my skirt down past my hips. Your fingers plunged into my wet pussy instantly upon sight that I was wearing no panties. Moans escaped my throat. Feeling you touch me felt so good. And on this night, on this rooftop, your touch felt better than ever. We continued to kiss as you pushed my skirt down further. It fell completely to the ground and you lifted my left leg and I wrapped it around your waist. You moved my blouse off my shoulders, and down my arms; completely removing it, letting it fall to the ground with my skirt. There I was on the rooftop wearing only a very expensive silk and lace bra. You loved the way my breasts look in this bra so your hands couldn't resist grabbing and massaging them. Your kissing moved from my shoulders up my neck to my lips and back down to my chest. You maneuvered my boobs out of the bra slightly, so that my nipples were exposed to you. You leaned down and flicked your tongue over the hard flesh of the nipples. Sucking, licking, kissing my breasts, one and then the other. It was driving me wild. As you continued to stimulate my tits with your mouth, your hands found their way down my body again. One hand held my ass tightly, while the other explored my sweetly trimmed mound. Your fingers slid delicately into the wet, warm folds of my pussy. Reaching in further, you inserted your middle finger into my hot cunt. My breathing was so heavy from the excitement and my groans became louder and louder. To feel your hands on me, inside me; to feel your mouth on me - was all too much. I began to get dizzy from excitement. I unbuttoned your pants, undid the zipper and reached desperately for your stiff cock. I could see you had become enlarged and I was dying to feel the heat of your hard dick. I wanted to feel you inside me. But you moved your hips back, so I couldn't reach you. "Just wait, I want to make you cum first," you told me. I was already dripping wet and the way you were rubbing my clit was bringing me so close to the edge. Then you lowered yourself to your knees and had me raise my leg and place it over your shoulder. As soon as I felt your warm breath near my pussy, I began to shiver. I was already so turned on by this whole experience, and I wasn't sure how much of your talented tongue I could take. You touched my fleshy lips and spread them apart. You began to lap at my clit, long slow licks that drove me wild. My moaning and groaning had become quite loud at this point, because the ecstasy you were creating was so intense. I flung my head back and looked at the starry sky. I had reached down and was running my fingers through your hair and massaging your head as you continued to work my pussy with your skillful tongue. You slipped a finger into my hole and began massaging and stimulating me further as you continued to lick, suck, and nibble on my clit. You licked me all over and slid your tongue as deep as you could into my pussy. You continued to lick and rub and lick and rub and my whole body began to tense with pre-orgasmic excitement. My moans turned to words as I repeated your name over and over. You had found just the right rhythm and motion. You were bringing me higher and higher. I couldn't even believe how absolutely amazing this was feeling. I had closed my eyes for a few moments to concentrate on the most incredible feelings you were invoking in my loins, the incredible feeling that you were invoking throughout my entire body. The height of pleasure came and I begged the heavens to let it last forever. My pussy began to throb and pulse with orgasm and my entire body reacted as well. You were so pleased with the intensity of the orgasm you had just given me. You quickly stood up, still holding onto my leg, and with one motion freed your raging hard-on from your pants and plunged it deep into my pussy. My orgasm immediately began again. You pumped your hips toward mine and thrust your hard meat deeper and deeper into my throbbing hole. The intensity of it grew and grew and you fucked me harder and harder. At this point you had begun moaning very loudly and I was screaming out in ecstasy. You held me tightly, pressing my partially exposed mammaries against your chest. You bit into my neck and your body stiffened. The passion of our encounter had become so great that you couldn't hold back any longer. Your cock exploded with its juices while you continued to pound and throb inside me. This was definitely one of the best orgasms we'd both had in a long time. Maybe coming to this party wasn't such a bad idea after all. Up on the Roof I'm hot, hungry, horny, and I'm crawling around on a roof in hundred-degree heat, with a guy who looks like his 401(k) got looted on the way to his mother's funeral. He's an architect named Happy Rotenberg, because of his happy personality--NOT! I'm hot, because it is hot. I'm horny because I haven't got laid in a month and this month don't look too good either. I'm hungry because I'm an unpaid intern, and all the Rents are sending me is enough diñero for my share of the rent on the apartment and couple bricks of Ramen noodles. I share what the real estate agent called a two-bedroom with three other slobs, whose idea of housekeeping is to shovel the shit into black plastic bags when it piles too high. Finally, I'm crawling on the roof because that's my assignment today, and it sucks. I'd finished my third year architecture at State, and the Rents thought that a summer job in an architect's firm was just what I need. They were blissfully unaware that the economy was in the shitter, and graduate architects with twenty years' experience were glad to find work, any work. It was a joke in New York City this summer: "Y'wanna find an architect? Step off the curb, raise your hand, and yell 'Taxi!' If he don't have a beard and a turban, he's an architect--Hell, even if he does have a beard and a turban, he might be an architect!" Mom called her Uncle Hubrecht. Uncle Hubrecht represents the German side of our family. He is always right; he says so his own self, so it must be true. Once he thought he made a mistake, but he was wrong. One time, when I told him I didn't like a story he liked, he said I was intolerant and trying to impose my views on everyone else. I must be wrong, even though I said I didn't care if anybody else agreed with me, because Uncle Hubrecht said I was wrong, and he is never wrong. But Uncle Hubrecht knew a fella who knew a fella--so there I was, at Whirlock & Weisberg, Architects, P.C., East 20th Street, New York, N.Y. Whirlock was dead for a hundred years or so. Weisberg was last heard of in Miami Beach, living on the part of the bribes he was supposed to pay building inspectors but kept for himself. The inspectors were indicted anyway, so nobody knew, except some gentlemen who are looking for Weisberg and would pay plenty to know where he is. So right now, the firm was being run by Happy. Whirlock & Weisberg, Architects, P.C., had an engagement from a bunch of tenants in a condominium to survey the roof to oppose a Major Capital Improvement. You don't know what that is. You're lucky. I had to read 200 pages of fiction, and then we had to go over every square foot of roof, most of it on our hands and knees. At least Happy was getting paid for it. One student from my architecture class at State got a real job. The Giraffe was not the girl you'd ask to the Prom; she was not the girl you'd ask anything. But she did have the best GPA, and she got the job at Kennedy Stuhldreyer. That was a real architectural firm, with a Park Avenue address and all. The Giraffe was no looker. She was tall, thin as a soda straw, and nodded when she talked. Her straw-colored hair was always tangled and her face was full of freckles. I made up a song about her (but never sang it to anyone but me): "Six feet tall, no tits at all, why should I make that deal? Six feet tall, no tits at all, I can't believe she's real. Six feet tall, no tits at all, can't even cop a feel, six feet tall, no tits at all, why should I make that deal?" But she got the grades, the Department Chairman's recommendation, and the Struhldreyer nod. Stuhldreyer was an alum and a big giver. He always took the top student from the third year class for the summer. Now Stuhldreyer got the engagement to perform the Local Law facade inspection (you also shouldn't care what that is) on the same building we were inspecting. And so The Giraffe showed up on the roof at the same time Happy and I were crawling around. The first glimpse of me that The Giraffe got was my jeans giving a fine exhibit of Plumber's Butt. So why do I care about The Giraffe? Because I am horny. Now you'll say, why are you horny, you're a bachelor in NYC, you can claim you're an architect, and you live in hot happening Chelsea Manhattan fuckin' New York City. There's supposed to be hetero, homo, bi, les, trans and every other kind of sex just floatin' in the air, right? Just reach out and grab some, right? Wrong. Oh yeah, if you're a bachelor in hot happening Chelsea Manhattan et cetera, you can get pussy (and Ass, The Other Vagina) by the yard. There's only a few requirements. You have to be vaguely presentable (OK, I can do that), disease-and-drug-free (for sure), know the right bars to hang out in (ditto), and, last but definitely not least, have an annual income of three hundred fifty thousand dollars before bonus, and produce two consecutive years of transcripts of your tax returns from the IRS to prove it. Oh shit, fucked again. My friend Wilson Chung told me all about it the third day I was in New York. I met Wilson Chung at State when he was there doing some kinda deal with the University for Golding Sechsauer. Golding Sechsauer, he told me, is the most successful and wealthiest investment bank you never heard of. Wilson Chung is only a couple years older than me, but his annual income is so far north of three hundred fifty thousand dollars that he needs the winning team from the Iditerod to get there. He said look him up if I ever came to NYC. So I did. Free cunt is easy, he told me, there's always the Boro bitches, in from Queens or Brooklyn for a good time. Mediocre sex, but who could argue with free? Might get lucky with a really nice girl, but then she wants you to meet Mother and check out Tiffany's. That's definitely on the "no fly" list, 'cause next stop's a life sentence, and the get-out-of-jail card could cost you a bundle. For the good stuff, said Wilson, in his high-class British accent (his parents were from Hong Kong but he grew up and went to school in the UK), you need to pay. And Diane was the good stuff. Diane got out of an Ivy League law school with a degree and one hundred fifty thousand dollars in debt. Student loan debt, the kind you can't get out of by going bankrupt. She passed the New York bar exam, but never got sworn in. That way, she said, they couldn't disbar her. She worked as a receptionist in a big law firm, but her real job is highest-class whore. She paid off her loans in two years that way, and bought a thirty-fifth floor condo in Chelsea for cash, with her pussy and anus as her capital assets. Diane spent her spare time in the gym. She was ripped to the max, not body-builder, but solid. She did kick boxing and Brazilian capoeira, lifted weights, but her real exercises were done at home. Wilson told me that a weekend with Diane cost around five thousand dollars, plus the hotel room (Diane never worked at home), breakfasts and lunches from room service, and the four hundred dollar dinners at the best restaurants (wine extra). But it was worth it. She showed Wilson her special exercises, in her condo, before they headed off to the Morgan for the weekend. She had cut a jump rope in half, tied the rope end of each half to a 25-pound weight, and carefully filed and sanded each handle end smooth. She showed Wilson how she lightly oiled one handle end with organic virgin olive oil from Umbria, just a drop or two, and squatted down and shoved it in her pussy. She tightened her muscles and stood up, lifting the weight with her kegels each time, and did 45 repetitions. She did the same with the other, only she shoved it into her ass. Wilson said the first time he fucked her, she clamped down just as he was coming. He almost passed out, it was so tight. She got off two or three times by using her muscles to rub his dick head against her G-spot, and then suddenly released. He said he actually screamed and almost bit off part of his tongue, he came so hard. "As for her arse, dear boy, frag nisht, as they say, don't throw grenades, or rather, don't ask," Wilson went on. "Y'know, with most-- male, female or whatever-- you go into their arses and it's great, but get past the rectal muscles and it's like fucking a bloody basketball hoop, you're in balls-deep and nothing for your poor dick head. But Diane--now she can hold you to your word, and no error. "Of course, no glove, no love; you must bag it with dear Diane. Now with most of them, wear a bag and you might better wank yourself. But not with Diane, oh dearie me no, old lad. She can make you forget the bag, your mother's birthday, and the Star-Spangled fuckin' Banner!" But of course this was TMI. I could never afford Diane. Wilson pointed her out to me one night at the Stars Club (he was buying, must have taken pity on me), but the guy she was with was wearing enough gold to buy out most of North Korea. She was model-girl pretty, with the tits and ass of a real woman, not a runway runaway. Not for me, dammit! So here I am, hot, horny, hungry (I mean how much appetite can you have for Ramen noodles?) and crawling around on a roof. "Excuse me," said a female voice, "we need to get over here--oh, Gerard, how are you?" People who call me Gerard send a murderous impulse through my brain; it's "Gerry". I gave serious consideration to throwing The Giraffe off the roof. No, the Rents wouldn't like it, and might not pay for my lawyer. "Hi, Isabelle," I replied, "how're y'all?" "Great, Gerard, just doing the parapets as part of the Eleven. And you?" "Some tenants asked us to take a look at the roof." I got a nasty look from Happy. "Oh, this is Mr Rotenberg, my boss. This is Isabelle Gridley. We go to school together." Happy stood up. "Delighted," he moaned. Happy carefully curbed his enthusiastic impulses. "Pleased t' meetchu, Mr Rotenberg," Isabelle said. "This is Mr. Sydenham, my boss." "Hi there," said Sydenham, dismissively. He knew Rotenberg was small potatoes, grubbing for tenant work and cheap storefront installations, not big stuff like Stuhldreyer. "Let's get together," said The Giraffe --I mean, Isabelle, "two hometown kids in the Big City. Give me your cell." And she put her number in my contacts. Like I might ever call her. We went off to work, our respective bosses glowering at each other, while trying not to acknowledge each other's existence. Would you believe Isabelle called me on Thursday? "Y'wanna get tuh-getha t'morra night? This can be a lonely town, ya know." "Isabelle, sure, but I don't get paid on this job and I'm only an intern. We can't go anyplace nice." I would never admit this to any girl, but The Giraffe doesn't count. "That's OK, I get paid t'morra. My treat, OK?" "That's real neighborly of ya, Isabelle," I replied. "Where should I meet up with ya?" I would never agree to be treated by any girl, but The Giraffe doesn't count. "Th' Olive Garden on 24th and Eighth. Seven p.m. OK?" "Sure, sounds great, really I mean it thanks a lot." I wouldn't talk like this to any girl, but--you get the picture. So there it is. I can sit in a chain restaurant with The Giraffe, which will be like watching my dick wilt, or I can be in my high-priced bedroom, with the three stooges in the living room getting obflusticated on Miller Light watching baseball on the tube. None of them can afford to get laid either. Great start to the week-end, right? So I'm wearing my last clean shirt and my decent jeans (a concession to The Giraffe's generosity) and sitting in the Olive Garden eating garlic bread and salad. I can't handle pasta, not after all those Ramen noodles. But Coke, real Coke, even that Yankee stuff--y'bet I'll drink that! The Giraffe must think this is a big deal. She knows movie stars don't hang out in the Olive Garden, but still and all, this is New York City. She put on a nice dress and strappy shoes, and actually combed out her hair. Hell, I bet she even washed it. "Where are ya livin' this summer?" I ask. I can't just sit there munching lettuce and tomato. "I got a half-share of an apartment on 27th Street for the summer. My roommate, her reg'lar roommate got to go to Europe this summer. And this roommate went to Connecticut to her folks' place for the week-end. Y'wanna see the place?" "Yeah, well I guess it beats what I got, a fourth-share with three clowns who can't keep anythin' clean." I should'a suggested a movie or somethin', but then I would have to pay at least my share, and that would mean at least four lunchless days--too many. Sometimes when you're hot, hungry and horny, you don't think straight. Fuck it, most-a the time I don't think straight. Well, after the third trip to the salad bar and the second full loaf of garlic bread, I wasn't hungry, but that's no excuse. So she paid and we left. It was a much nicer apartment than my quarter of a dump. It actually had a terrace, and looked out at something beside dirty brick and dirtier windows. And her AC made less noise than mine, which sounded like the Iraq War. She showed me around, and opened the fridge. There was about a case and a half of Stella, some milk and OJ and some diet bread (like she needed to lose weight, right?). "Y'want one?" she asked, in the same tone you might ask about Benedict's catholicity. "No," I said, "He's really Nigerian and Jewish," and took the bottle, grinning. "Not bad," she said, grinning right back, "for a broke and horny loser." "What the fuck d'ya mean?" I said, seriously considering whacking her nodding Giraffe head with the bottle, even though I hadn't had a swallow yet. "There's a mirror over there in the bathroom. Take a look." "Go to Hell," I replied, walking to the door but taking the beer with me. Hell, she gave it to me, but I won't put up with some bitch insulting me. She casually grabbed my right wrist and almost broke it. "Relax, stud," she said. "I would be remiss in my duties as an Alpha Fee if I didn't see that you was fed and fucked before sun-up t'morra." Oh yeah, she was a sister of Alpha Phi sorority (that's pronounced Alfa Fee for you rednecks), known as Phi Piggy Piggy to us GDIs (God Dam Independents, which is people too poor to join a fraternity). At State, most of 'em looked like pigs, but fucked like bunnies. I'd had one or two. What they lacked in looks, skill or charm, they more than made up for with a can-do attitude. "OK OK," I said, "chill!" "Got a bag?" she asked. "No," I said, hoping to escape by lying. "Good, because if ya did and it was like most, it'd been in your wallet since Noah grounded the Ark, and would break faster than a politician's promise. I been there, and RU-486 is not my choice of pill. Now here," she went on, reaching into a drawer, "is a fresh ribbed job, my kind of condo. Strip and fetch it while I do my exercises." I asserted my male dominance by finishing my beer, leaving the empty bottle on the counter, belching loudly, and rapidly taking off my clothes and throwing them on the floor. I took the condom from the counter where she left it, gave Old Cholly a quick rub (didn't need much, like riding a bicycle, it comes right back every time) and unwrapped and installed per instructions. In the meantime, Isabelle was buck-mother-nekkid, with a barbell marked "35 lbs" in her left hand, grinning at me. "Bet you never saw this before." There was the jumprope, with the rope end with a shackle to hold the barbell, and the handle filed smooth. She used store-brand extra virgin olive oil, though; Turkish, not Umbrian--should I ask for my money back? Hell, she was a fuck of a lot cheaper than Diane. But did The Giraffe--I mean Isabelle--have the right stuff? She squatted down, slid in the handle (I swear I heard a gasp from her pussy as it went in), and began. Holy Saint Catherine of Alexandria and the Blessed Hermits! as my Irish Grandma (Grandaddy's World War II war bride) would say. Fifty reps and she wasn't even breathing hard. That barbell never touched the floor. Each time it hovered less than an eighth-inch above and then went climbing back up. At seventy-five reps, she stopped, sliding the handle out and giving it to me to lick as she did. Until you've tasted extra virgin olive oil flavored with sweat and pussy juice, you haven't lived. Then she explained. "When I was little, my cunt muscles were weak. If I sneezed, I pissed. If I coughed, I pissed. I wet my bed so often I needed a lifeguard. But then a doctor gave me some exercises. I enjoyed them. I'd put a thing in down there, and tighten up. It took me two years, but I could hold in a quart and run a mile, and never spill a drop. "I figgered, if I could do that, what the Hell, the sky's the limit. So I started with a pound weight and worked my way up. I popped my own cherry with the first thing I put down there. When I decided to fuck guys, I took it easy, only tightened a little. "But when I got to Lonergan, or Feldwebel," naming two architecture professors who were the toughest graders in the Department, "well, after all, for the honor of Alpha Fee I had to give my best." The fucking bitch! Sure, she had the best GPA--the best Giving Pussy Average. She fucked her way to the top. Oh, that cunt! Well, she had met her match. Stand back! Seconds out of the ring! It's the World Championship Bout, The Giraffe versus Gerry the Cowboy Stud. Wrong. It wasn't even a sparring match. She grabbed me, kissed me, pulled my mouth onto what she called a nipple but was more like a mosquito bite, grunted a few times and pulled me into her. She was kinda tight, nothing special. But then she slowly started applying the pressure. I really was feeling good, getting ready to squirt a good hot load, when she applied The Stranglehold. Everything was rushing up, but going nowhere. She ground the whole front of my cock, rasping her muscles over me. My balls felt like they were exploding, my whole body was twitching, and finally I was screaming. I tried to slap her face to make her let go, but she head-butted me over my right eye and I screamed again. All the pain from my dick to my eyebrow was one great pain. She screamed and came. She ground and twisted and almost pulled my dick off and came again. "The fucking condom can't take any more," I thought, "and I can't for dam sure." Then she released. I screamed and my mouth snapped shut like an alligator, and I screamed again as I tasted the blood where I had bitten my tongue. I never came like that in my life. It was like I shot every drop in my body from somewhere behind my right ear and it all came out through my dick. She pushed me off her and pulled me out of her, grasping the condom to keep it from spilling. She put it in a plastic bag and threw it in the refrigerator. "You keep souvenirs?" I asked. "Yeah," she said. "I specially save the best ones, like Lonergan and Feldwebel. Just in case." In case they get a case of conscience and stop giving her A's. The DNA and its location might provide great divorce court material. "You weren't bad," she said, "except trying to hit me. That means you won't be getting any more, you rambunctious boy. Now you get one more beer, and then put on your pants and get out of here." I never talked to her again. But I did give her number to Wilson Chung. Always good to let a friend in on a local bargain. Up On The Roof Imagine a screenplay ... WIDE SHOT The roof of an eighty story building in Dallas. Hot summer night. The moon is a silver dollar balanced on a nearby church spire. The lights of the city dance in the heat. Inside a futuristic dome on the roof top there is a deep electronic growl as heavy machinery coils greased cable. There is a clank, a whoosh and footsteps covered by muffled voices, a man and a woman talking. A door cracks open and LINDA emerges. She is a Texas thoroughbred, long legged, wearing a short silver dress with a scooped neckline, diamond earrings, two carats each and that's all. Even her shoes she left at the party. Her strawberry blonde mane, thick and cut rough, shifts on her shoulders in the occasional breeze. There is sweat on her bosom, on her neck and on her upper lip. TODD follows her out onto the roof. He is six three and dark, the curly hair a short tousled mop. It contrasts with his immaculate Armani suit, dark blue with a fine gold stripe, a garnet Countess Mara tie, highly polished black wing tips, a signet ring on his left little finger is gold with a filigreed T engraved in it. LINDA 'Let's go cool off on the roof and look at the view.'Damn, Yankee man, you go for the simple stuff, don't you? TODD Like scotch, the simple stuff can do its job. Besides, I didn't figure you as one who needed a big song and dance. LINDA Don't get me wrong Yankee, I like my music and I sure love to dance. But then you know that. I also like my bourbon, but I'll drink whiskey if that's all you got. Todd pulls a hammered silver flask from his breast pocket. TODD Will Wild Turkey do? LINDA Wild anything. She takes a strong pull at the flask, letting a little go down her throat. The rest she holds in her mouth and, putting a hand behind Todd's neck, pulls his mouth onto her own. She feeds him the bourbon a little at a time until they are both out of breath and dizzy. LINDA I'm so hot. TODD You are. But, now who is laying out the corny lines? LINDA Hell, it's true. I was sure there would be some kind of breeze up here. Wait! Over there! Is that a ghost or is something blowing in the wind? A bit unsteadily she trots across the pebbled roof to where a pale tarpaulin is fluttering on the low parapet in the moonlight. LINDA Yankee, come here! Come, look! It's one of those window washing things. You in the mood to wash some windows? TODD You are spooking me the way you are hanging over that thing. No, wait a minute. I know exactly what you are imagining. Hey. I'm a daring guy when someone I trust is at the controls... LINDA But you don't trust me, is that it? TODD More like I don't trust me. I mean, I'm a bona fide member of the mile high club, but there we are talking a lot of action in a small space. There's a lot of space here. LINDA You gotta fill that space with a lot of action, then. She presses herself against him and presses just the tip of her bourbon soaked tongue into his mouth. TODD Damn, I don't know, I can get pretty excited. I wouldn't want to upend that thing. LINDA We all gotta go sometime. Why not come and go all at once? She stretches one dancer's leg over the railing of the gondola, revealing that she has never opened a jar of bikini wax. With a few confident moves, she arranges the tarp into a crude but comfortable hammock. Reaching out a hand to Todd she pulls him into her nest. TODD You're going to have to work hard. Fear isn't such a terrific aphrodisiac. LINDA I'll take care of you. Just sit right there. (She bends over and kisses him) Now close your eyes. That's good. You look so sweet. Now tilt your head back and lift your chin. Open your mouth. She has straddled him, standing, her skirt hiked up. In a couple of swift moves she wraps his body in the painters tarp so that only his head is visible. She holds onto the railing of the gondola and lowers her hips until her nether lips are brushing his mouth. LINDA Eat me. Eat me good. TODD Yes, Ma'am Todd has a strong tongue and he makes it dig between her swollen lips. The liquor and the excitement have got her wet. He teases. He tickles. He spells the alphabet in upper and lower case on her clit. He does his damndest to ignore the swaying of the gondola as she begins to pump her cunt into his face. She tries to bury his chin in that slippery cave. Sometimes she nearly smothers him, but he knows he can always bite her if push comes to shove. He decides to get tough and sucks her large clit into his mouth tight between his lips while he polishes the pink bead. LINDA Damn yes! Damn YES! Keep that up, JUST like that. Don't you DARE stop until I tell you to. Keep going. Suck it. Suck it. Pull it deeper into your mouth. YES. Like that. Pump it. Bite it. JESUS yes.. Look out. Look out. Look out. I'm gonna let go now. Oh, shiiiiiiit! Todd's face is flooded with her spunk and it keeps coming in spurts, her hips popping again and again against his mouth. She shudders and wails like a cat in heat. Then suddenly she is unwrapping him. LINDA Damn it man, I need it. Get up behind me quick and fill me. I need you to positively ream me out. Oh, I hope to GOD you've got a serious pecker in there. Oh, bless us, that's a beauty. She grabs the rail again and shoves her moist ass at him. LINDA JAM me! It takes no effort to find the target and in a moment he is pumping like an oil derrick on a gusher. The gondola rattles against the building and sways like a boat on the ocean. LINDA Keep fucking me! Todd fears it may be his last fuck, but it sure is a good one. Her strong, ample cheeks are spread wide and he is burying himself in her to the hilt with every thrust and she is shoving back against him and grinding, the hot sweet slime dripping off his cock every time he pulls out. LINDA YEE HAH, you are good! RIDE me cowboy. Todd slows his strokes, enjoying the feel of the chill air on his dick. As he begins to feel the jizz build in his balls he draws out ready to charge in with the fast strokes. Linda senses his last campaign and pulls away just a bit and drops her hips just a tad and rams her ass against him. Something is different. He knows where he is and he doesn't usually go there, but if this filly gets off on a visit through the back door he is willing to stay for supper. He commences jamming big time. Perhaps she has not been so well reamed before or perhaps it is just damn good, but she starts to howl; doesn't hold back a whit; just whoops out into the steel and glass canyons until the sound seems to fill the whole city. And then it is Todd's turn. Todd roars as he unloads. TODD HOLY SHIIIIT! The gondola slips and drops three feet. For a moment they are weightless. LINDA SWEEEEEET MAMA! Todd has never clutched another human being tighter in his life. Every ounce of spunk in him pours deep into Linda's body. LINDA I think I need some more of that Wild Turkey, right NOW. She drains the flask. LINDA Sorry soldier, I'll buy you a refill at the bar. Now how shall we get the fuck out of here? Todd manages to boost Linda up over the parapet, his hand digging deep into her slippery regions. Then with the help of her strong cowgirl's arm, gets himself over the edge. They lie panting, looking at the night sky. After a while she climbs on him and begins to ruin his best pants by scrubbing against his stiff-sore dick. LINDA Señor, I think you got heart. I'd dearly like to try you again. Ever done it sky diving? I've heard it's quite and experience? * If you enjoy this story please vote below and add a comment. Please check out other stories by LargoKitt. Up On the Rooftop This is my entry into the winter story competition. Please remember to vote and comment at the end! Have a wonderful holiday! * She slipped quietly to the communal garden atop aher building. It was quiet and cold. The white blanket of powdery snow seemed to dampen out the world. Even the busy street below was quite. Only the sound of her breath curling little clouds of mist before her made a noise. It took her a while to make the final step from the stairwell to the serene peacefulness of the exterior. Perhaps it was the coat and gloves. Maybe it was the mug of hot chocolate. Or the new scarf she had received in a box from her mother. But one of the things that warmed her slender frame provided the courage she needed to take the next step. And once her warmly covered feet crunched into the pliant surface of the snow blanketed roof top, she would not turn back. The glistening lights of a city on holiday drew her forward. A random and disorganized smattering of lights glowed in the deep blue of the night sky. Various high rises jutted up from all around her, little lights twinkling and glowing like some decadent mockery of the small evergreens alight in so many homes. Each of her steps and each of her subtle exhalations drafted a small composition in her head. It was a simple, sweet tune, devoid of words or unnecessary complications. She preferred her music to the ceaseless onslaught of traditional holiday songs that normally played. But tonight it was quiet, and only the music in her head and in her heart played. Her rosy cheeks climbed a little higher as her full lips pulled back into a satisfied grin. Her bench was empty, as it always was. No one in the building bothered coming up here in the winter. Twenty degree weather was a big deterrent for most. But not her. Her hands brushed away the pile of snow that had accumulated since she last had visited, clearing a familiar seat with a prime view of the surroundings. Carefully, she lowered herself into the now bare wood frame of the bench. Her soft feminine backside cushioned the otherwise hard surface, and a pair of thermal pants added to the comfort. The bench felt solid, strong. It was the right embrace for the grand display put on by the clash of man and nature. They had built the tall, strong buildings; defiant and proud. Nature had covered them with snow, lit up the sky, and surrounded them in darkness. Almost as if to prove that whatever they created, she could improve. The rooftop dweller loved the idea. She pulled her legs up close to her chest, one still arm trapped between her coat and thighs. The other languidly brought the steaming cup of cocoa to her lips. The first touch of the mug was cool. The ceramic had been caressed a little too long by the air and not by her mouth. It was followed by the cool pinch of whipped cream sliding over her lips and tongue. Then came that delicious biting of the hot chocolate imbibed milk. Her eyes closed, to focus on the familiar and sacred taste of a good cup of hot chocolate. It would bring the angelic smile back to her face. She would sip quietly by herself. Her mind wandered to her family, to her friends, to the excitement of the coming days. She thought of the New Year and her secret promises to herself. She thought of all that was good in her life and of how much she loved hot chocolate. Her life was not hard and she had much to be grateful for. She promised herself that she would be home next year, and that she would love this year. Because she was unable to head home for the holidays, she made a promise to herself. That in the quiet loneliness she would not be troubled. The young woman promised that this would be a time of peace and of healthy introspection. The holidays were as much a time to give as they were to receive. And she would give herself the gift of self-adulation. Not arrogance or absorption, just a moment in time where one can adore themselves and appreciate their uniqueness in the vastness of the universe. She took in a deep cleansing sigh before she sipped softly at her cocoa once more. The cool air flooded her lungs and cleared out any lingering doubts about being alone for the holiday. For ten minutes she would sit in utter stillness, but for the occasional raising of the warm mug to her lips. And when the cocoa was gone, she would be completely still. Her thoughts returned to the passionate struggle between what the universe had crafted and what man had. She thought of the push of the two against one another, of their subtle interactions, and blatant assaults. She dwelt on how urgently one needed the other and how often it tried to deny its need. It wanted to be strong and independent, free from any support or kindness. But on occasion that need was flushed out and it was forced to admit and recognize how much it needed the other. It reminded her of her partners. Of how there was always some subtle tide to their interactions. How one of them was strong when the other was weak. It reminded her of their lovemaking. Of how they denied their own release for the sake of the other. The same warming sensation that her hot chocolate had brought to her stomach, was carried a little lower. Beneath several layers of clothing, her heart raced a little faster and her skin tensed in nervous anticipation. Did she dare, her mind wondered? With that same self satisfied grin on her face, her legs shifted a little farther apart and a little farther from her chest. Her movements would still, her eyes glancing around. They sought out any other chance witnesses to her holiday gift to herself. Her lips parted a bit as her knowing smile grew. Only the City and his lover Nature would witness this intimate moment. Her eyelids relaxed a bit as her tongue slowly traced the inside of her white teeth. She willed her muscles to relax and the nervous part of her consciousness to be still. Slowly, exotically, she stretched, her back arching and heels sliding farther down the bench till they reached the other arm. One hand tugged at the fingers of a glove, freeing long slender digits. Patiently they rose to her mouth, sliding between her lips till they touched the tongue that had so lovingly savored her cocoa. The slight saltiness of her skin was a good contrast to the sweetness of the cocoa. Gently her tongue circled the pair and warming them for the task to come. Pleased with her performance, the fingers slipped from the warm moist embrace of her mouth and into the cool caress of the dry air. Down, over the heavily padded casing of her down coat they slipped. Her heart skipped with anticipation at their intended destination. Beneath the parka her nipples hardened, pressing into the soft cotton of her sweatshirt. Her other hand pressed down over the top of them in an illicit crush. She whimpered as her soft breasts bowed beneath the pressure of her palm. The other hand had reached its destination, and the two ordained fingers had dipped beneath the waistband of the tight pants she wore. The young woman savored the anticipation, "the almost, but not quite" placement of her hands. She alone knew what was coming, and her body lusted with her. She could feel the wetness in her center, she knew the scent of her lust and its flavor. Her mouth watered at the memories awoken by her thoughts. She arched in her bench, her hips thrusting softly with desire. She let out another whimper, for the benefit of no one but herself. Her fingers slipped further beneath the waist band. Inching downwards over the freshly shaved skin at the apex of her thighs. She was so close to what she wanted. Her hand atop her chest pushed itself into her jacket, diving to a lower layer in an effort to bring about a more intense sensation. It would work. With a small gasp, her fingers passed over the last of her lightly tanned skin. They found a hard little nub standing guard over the moist chamber beneath. There, with the press of her clothing against them, they would circle. Tauntingly slow, they somehow denied her urge speed up. Of their own volition they acted- their pace torturous and purposeful. Deep within her core, she felt her desire build from a small romantic wish to a passionate urge. Her lithe body struggled to contain it. Her patience could only last so long. Her breath was quick and ragged, ill timed and unequal. The small bursts of mist from her lips unfurled and disappeared just as soon as another came. With a small whisper of her own name she commanded her fingers move farther on. Easily the swollen folds of her labia parted before their intrusion. The pink lips enveloped them, swallowed them deeper and deeper into its inner sanctum. It was not until her own apparel limited her penetration that she stopped. The rooftop dweller closed her eyes for a moment. This was a crucial moment, the first flex of something within her. And it was as good as she remembered. The fingers curled upward slowly, pressing their tips against the upper wall of her sex while the joint bent back into the floor. A louder, less disguised groan passed through her and into the night air. "Yes," she whispered to the two observant forces in the darkness. "Yes," she whispered to herself. The fingers relaxed and then flexed once more. Soon it was a rhythm, one second tensed within her body and the other still. The heel of her palm ground across her clitoris as she slowly screwed her hips down onto the intruding digits. They were just enough to fill and stretch the pliant walls of her twat. Just enough to fill her and make her want more. Gradually the throb of her fingers within her grew in pace. Slowly the soft lullaby became a crescendo. In the quite of the night, the slurp of her sex and her wetness seemed to carry for miles and she revelled in the freedom. "Yes," she called out once more, her voice hoarse and husky. Her tongue licked at her lips as she rocked on her fingers, pushing them as deep as she could into herself. The pleasure was addictive, intoxicating. It tingled within her, racing up her spine and to her brain where the delight of the caress was appreciated. Over and over again her fingers would plunge into her pussy, parting the glistening folds and burying in her core. The heady scent of her sex filled the air- escaping through the small opening her wrist brought to the waist of her pants. She imagined that she was the witness to the mating of the city and nature. He tall, chiseled, and hard. She exotic, passionate, and wanton in her offerings to him. With the image of their two naked bodies writhing in her imagination, her fingers fucked into her. Their pace was timed to the imagined urgency and desire of the mating. Soon her body was wracked with the sense that the end was nearing, that her climax was upon her. It had risen rapidly from within the wet clasp of her channel and now filled her whole body with a tingling sense of wonder. And when it finally exploded, she let out a cry that could no doubt be heard at street level. It bounced off of the walls of nearby buildings nd echoed to the sky. It was the triumphant yell of fulfillment of the most heady of needs. Her pussy spasmed quickly on her fingers, which finally lay still within her. She braced her shoulders and feet against the arms, her sex thrust towards the heaven like some perverse offering of ancient times. Slowly the waves of pleasure receded and her mind stilled. She slipped her fingers out of her folds and brought them to her lips. Her tongue teased and licked, savoring the flavor of her juices atop the digits. The same coy grin that had greeted the city and the night sky when she stepped onto the roof appeared again. And once more, the silent night rested serenely.