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Everything drips incessantly. Rain presses down on the buildings and streets heavier than the expectations of those inside. The city is sluggish in the dark, the deluge ensuring only those with a need or nowhere else to go to venture out. Whoops and hollers flare and die as revellers dash from cab to club, searching for that thrill. Tyres hiss, then fade, their transience mirroring their passengers’ fleeting journeys.This is my city. I know its streets. Its people. Their blurred faces rushing from one place to another, indistinct and ephemeral, waiting until the clock ticks down to freedom. After dark, all bets are off.It’s always sex. Strip away any veneer of sophistication, class, or money and it’s bahis şirketleri always about sex. The ultimate temporary high, addictive as a drug. Don’t tell me money makes the world go round. Those with money buy sex.Out here the streets, my streets, are quiet once more. I watch the door, waiting, heart beating in anticipation. The bar is perfect; busy with ‘after-work’ types and those waiting for a seat on their commute. I don’t want a dive. And never a club. I want suggestible, not desperate. And I want someone who has something to lose.The door opens, chatter swelling, then cuts off as a man steps through. He squints at the rain as he shrugs his coat over the suit and I see the flash of the gold bahis firmaları band as he lifts his briefcase as cover. Perfect. I step forward into the halogen glow and he hesitates, staring, and it’s all I need. I let my coat fall open and reach to the low neck of my simple t-shirt and pull down, baring soft breast and hard nipple. I hear his sharp intake over the hum of the rain, the response Pavlovian and predictable. I smile and retreat into the alley’s darkness, knowing he’ll follow.I pick well. It’s a talent. Whether the urge to save me or fuck me is greater, I don’t know, but they always follow. They see a slight, nondescript, well-enough dressed woman. And then they see the forbidden. Not kaçak bahis siteleri a whore. Not something they can classify. I intrigue them and so they follow.I’m already against the alley wall when his step echoes at the mouth.“H-hello?”I wait.“I just want to check you’re okay.”I grin in the dark. Sure he does.He steps closer, squinting in the gloom and I pull my t-shirt up, displaying bare breasts, upturned nipples dark and firm. I crook a finger at him. His jaw drops, incredulous, and he checks all around before fixating on me and stepping closer, the few drinks he’s knocked back after work nudging inhibitions aside.He stops just in front of me, awkwardly clutching his briefcase and watches rain spatter on my breasts. Before he can say anything I slide down the wall until I’m squatting in front of him, my intention clear. My fingers are eager, deft despite the chill. They tease down his zipper and gently reach for his cock.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
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