The First Time Doesn't Have to Be the Last

"Spread your legs," Jack said.

I had seated myself across from him on the upstairs balcony, wineglass in hand, after handing him his gin and tonic. The air was muggy and thick, a typical summer evening in St. Louis; thunderheads gathering, threatening a storm. I wore a short summer dress, high-heeled, strappy sandals – and nothing else.

I glanced down anxiously through the balcony's wrought-iron railings to the street below. In the early dusk it was still possible to look up from the street and see us clearly on the balcony. He saw my nervous glance down and met my eyes, waiting. I took a shaky breath and obeyed, spreading my knees apart for him, though I left the hem of the dress draped over my thighs.

"Wider," he said, holding my gaze. "Hook your ankles behind the legs of the chair." I did as I was told, spreading my legs wide, feeling my heart starting to race.

He took a swallow of his drink. "Lift your dress," he continued. "I want to see your cunt."

I hesitated a moment, then pulled the hem of my dress all the way up, exposing myself for him – and anyone else that happened to be looking up. He didn't look at my pussy though, just stared into my eyes, and I knew that he was enjoying my reactions more than the sight of the flesh I was exposing for him. I imagined what he was seeing as he looked at me: the flush creeping up my neck, my lips parted as I struggled to regulate my suddenly shallow breathing. I also imagined what he would see if he looked down at my cunt, and knew he would like what he saw there, too: the folds of my sex glistening with moisture, pulsing a little as my pussy clenched and unclenched in my excitement and fear that someone might look up and see me there on display.

I took a gulp of my wine.

He looked down then, and his gaze on my bare pussy was like a caress. The wind picked up out of nowhere, teasing and cooling my heated flesh. He raised his eyes to mine again, pinning me there. "Touch yourself," he said softly.

I took a shuddering breath and slowly, hesitantly, began to stroke my soft outer lips. The labia were sensitive after having shaved only that afternoon, and they felt like velvet. His eyes never left mine as I probed a little deeper, sliding my finger between my delicate inner folds, feeling the wetness gathering on my fingertip as I did so and an ache beginning to build inside me. My clit throbbed, and I brushed my fingers lightly across it, heightening the exquisite sensations.

"Put a finger inside yourself, Carrie," Jack told me. He was leaning slightly forward, the drink forgotten in his hand as he watched my face. I had to force myself not to look down at the street again. I knew he could see the conflict of emotions playing across my face. The desire to do as he said, the fear of getting caught. Although he'd made me expose myself on the balcony and in other public places several times in the past, it had never been like this. He'd never made me masturbate in public. I shuddered and slid a finger through my wetness and into that tight, dark slit inside myself, letting the sensations roll over me and closing my eyes against the thought of someone seeing what I was doing.

"Open your eyes," he said, his voice sharp. "Look at me."

My eyes popped open again and met his. Far off, thunder rolled and the wind gusted. A smile softened the sharp edge of his tone. "That's it, baby," he said. "Fuck yourself. Put another finger inside yourself."

The possibility of being seen or heard was forgotten as I stared into his eyes and pushed another finger into my cunt. My clit ached unbearably, and I started to circle it with my thumb, feeling my excitement rising as the wind began to pick up and the sun went down behind the darkening clouds. The feel of my pussy tightening around my fingers, and of the slick, wet skin of my cunt and my fingers pushing in and out, all while he sat across from me, watching me, was almost enough to push me over the edge into an orgasm.

"That's enough," he said abruptly.

I gasped, outraged, but stilled my fingers obediently, a panting sigh of displeasure leaving my lips. I saw a grin tug at the side of his mouth and knew he was remembering how shy I had been when we had first gotten together; how the first time he had made me exhibit myself for him had almost made me cry with embarrassment.

A rumble of thunder much closer than before and the sound of a car going by on the street below brought me out of my reverie, and suddenly I was aware once more of how exposed I was, of what we were doing. I glanced down at the street below, but I knew better than to close my thighs yet, or to straighten the hem of my dress. I looked over at him and he nodded approvingly. I took a sip of my wine and tried to regain my composure.

"Come here," he said, leaning back. "On your knees. I want you to suck my cock."

I paused in the act of bringing my wineglass to my lips. My eyes opened wide as I looked over the rim of the glass at him.

"What?" I said. "Here? Now?"

He raised his eyebrows and got that "look" he gets in his eyes sometimes. A look that makes me shiver with anticipation. "Do I have to say it twice?"

Of course he didn't. I swallowed and hastily set the glass aside, then slid off the patio chair to the cement deck of the balcony. "Of course not," I said, kneeling at his feet. "It's just—" I glanced around at our exposed position once again. "You've never— We've never—"

He stared down at me impassively. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

My hands shook slightly as I reached for his belt buckle. My heart was pounding again and my pussy throbbed. I felt wetness beginning to trail down between my thighs. I loved it when he was demanding. I loved that fierce edge to him, the one that said he would allow no disobedience. I knew my best friend, Emily, would never understand it, and so I had never talked about our unusual dynamic with her, but Jack and I both knew he would never have to tell me to do something twice, no matter how outrageous it seemed. In fact the more outrageous, the more danger there was in being caught, the hotter it made us both. And the harder he pushed me to do those things, the wetter I got. Just last week he had called me at work and told me to finger myself to orgasm, right there at my desk, during a conference call. And I had done it, stifling my moans with a fist to my mouth as my CEO had droned on and on about—

Something. I never did remember what the call was about.

Jack's cock was already stiffening beneath his khaki slacks. As I stroked him through the material, I looked down at the street below. It was just past dusk, but it seemed darker due to the storm clouds that had begun to gather in earnest. A streetlight on the far corner made a pool of light, under which a woman stood, waiting for a bus.

I felt Jack's cock twitch as his eyes followed mine. My pussy twitched in response.

"Do it," he said. His voice betrayed his own excitement, and this excited me even more.

With another quick, surreptitious glance at the woman standing at the bus stop, I unzipped his fly and pulled the top of his boxers down. His cock sprang free, already swollen, a drop of pre-cum glistening at the tip. I leaned forward and licked it up like a cat lapping at a bowl of milk. I loved the taste of his pre-cum, and could only hope that one day he would come in my mouth, allowing me to taste his semen. It was something he said he seldom did, and never had with me. Yet. I kept holding out for that "yet."

Thunder rolled overhead as I dipped my head to his cock again, taking just the tip in my mouth and sucking on it. He sighed and I continued to pull and suck on it for a few more minutes, concentrating all my attention there before I finally took him all the way in my mouth and felt his cock nudge against the back of my throat. I loved that moment, my mouth stretched wide, trying to keep my teeth from scraping him, even as I struggled to take in all of him. I loved the slide of his cock – thick and hard and insistent – as I took him deeper, opening my throat for him. I loved the struggle to take him deeper yet, fighting the gag reflex, wanting to swallow him whole.

I forgot the street below and the woman who might look up and see me there on my knees, my head bobbing up and down in his lap, as I gave myself over to the pleasure of pleasuring him, of stroking him, up and down, with my mouth and hands. I looked up to see his head tipped back and his eyes finally closed. I realized how dark it had gotten, dusk giving way to night as lightning lit up the sky behind him, illuminating the planes of his face. Thunder crashed around us a moment later and he opened his eyes and looked down at me.

"Don't stop," he said, his voice husky.

I bent my face to my task, sliding my mouth down the full length of his cock again before pulling away slightly so that I could lick the shaft from the root to the tip, over and over. His hips jumped up at me and I felt his hand on the back of my head.

Suddenly lightning and thunder crashed almost simultaneously over us, and a moment later the skies opened up, first in a few drops of rain, and then in a sudden, ferocious, deluge. When I started to sit back, preparing to head inside out of the rain, though, he put both hands on the back of my head, and pulled me to him again.

"Don't stop," he panted, his voice hoarse. "Don't…fucking… stop."

He pumped his hips up and thrust his cock in and out of my mouth as the rain poured down on us and the thunder crashed overhead. I was panting too, panting and gagging and swallowing rain. Suddenly I felt his foot between my knees, nudging them apart, and I spread them gladly, no longer caring if the bus stop woman could see us in the flashes of lightning. I felt his bare toes push against my cunt and I spread my thighs even farther apart, wanting to give him access, wanting him inside of me desperately. I didn't care what part of him it was. A second later I felt his toes pushing into me and as he pushed my mouth down onto his cock I pushed my cunt down onto his foot and started fucking him. I rocked back and forth with the rhythm of his hands in my hair and his cock in my mouth. Rainwater choked me, lightning blinded me, thunder pounded over us. In the moments between the thunder, I heard his harsh breathing and my own choked whimpers. I rode him, pushing, grinding myself against his foot even as he ground his cock into my mouth and I felt that beautiful, aching, spiraling feeling as my orgasm built, as I felt the invasion of his foot and his cock inside of me. He was pounding his cock into my mouth now, fucking my throat, and the first pulses of an orgasm began to wash over me.

I tore my mouth away, gasping for air, needing to cry out as I came, but he grabbed my head again and pushed my mouth down onto him, forcing me up and down almost violently on his cock.

"Don't stop," he gasped. "I told you—"

But his words were lost in a crash of thunder and suddenly he pushed my head down and held me there tightly as his hips thrust up. My pussy spasmed, clenching around his foot, and his cock swelled in my mouth, and suddenly he was gasping and convulsing over me. I felt his cock jerk in my mouth and then the sweet taste of his semen mixing with the rainwater pouring down. I gasped and swallowed and looked up at him through the rain. His grip had loosened, but he still held my face between his hands. He grinned at me and shook his head.

"There's a first time for everything," I said, smiling.

Below us I heard the sound of the bus as it pulled away from the bus stop. I looked down, and as lightning flashed, I was sure that I saw a woman's face peering up at us from the back window.