Stranger’s Alluring Gaze
Gal had never let a stranger use her body the same night they met until Barrett’s eyes stripped her bare.
The hotel room door clicked shut behind them and the dim light from a single bedside lamp carved shadows across the carpet that stretched almost to the foot of the bed. Gal’s pulse hammered in her throat as she turned to face him, close enough now that the space between the mattress and her bare feet had all but vanished. Barrett stood three feet away, broad shoulders filling out his open shirt, and the hard line of his cock already strained visibly against his trousers. She felt her own slickness gathering, cunt swelling and parting with every shallow breath, and some small, rational corner of her mind noted, almost with alarm, how badly she wanted to skip every step between this moment and having him inside her.
Barrett’s gaze dropped straight to the apex of her thighs. He imagined how wet she must already be, how her heat would feel closing around his fingers the second he touched her. The thought made his balls tighten, and beneath the hunger a quieter, stranger thought surfaced — that he wanted to see her face when it happened, not just her body, and that unsettled him more than the want itself. Gal watched the muscle in his jaw flex and knew he was picturing something filthy, though she couldn’t have said why the thought of being watched that closely made her chest go tight along with her thighs.
Neither spoke, but the silence had a texture now, thick and humming, the kind that made her aware of her own heartbeat in places that weren’t her chest. Gal’s fingers moved first, tugging her dress up and over her head. The fabric whispered to the floor. Her nipples tightened in the cool air. Barrett’s eyes tracked every inch of exposed skin, lingering on the glistening sheen between her legs, and she let him look, let the exposure itself send another slow pulse of wetness sliding down her inner thigh. He shrugged out of his shirt, then shoved his trousers down and kicked them free of his ankles in one impatient motion, leaving him fully bare. His cock sprang up, long and flushed, a thick vein tracking up the underside where it curved slightly toward his stomach. Gal’s mouth watered at the sight of it, at the sheer size of the want rising in her, want with no shame attached to it at all.
Barrett’s hand hovered at his side. He could smell her arousal from here, sharp and sweet, and his fingers twitched with the need to touch her. Gal pressed her thighs together, and the friction was almost unbearable, her clit throbbing against the pressure, slickness smearing hot between her folds. She watched his cock jerk in response, and for one suspended second she let herself wonder what it would feel like if this weren’t just one night — then crushed the thought before it could take root, because wanting more than his body from a stranger was a door she wasn’t going to open.
They moved at the same instant. Gal stepped forward as Barrett reached for her. Their hands met in the space between them, palms sliding together before she pushed against his chest. He let her guide him backward until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. His ass settled on the edge exactly as her knees began to bend, her fingers slipping from his and trailing down his forearms, over his wrists, releasing him only as gravity pulled her the rest of the way down.
She landed on the carpet in front of him, her hands already sliding up his thighs, palms mapping the tense muscle there before wrapping around the base of his cock. Gal opened her mouth and took the thick head past her lips, tongue flattening along the underside while one hand worked the length she couldn’t yet swallow, twisting in slow counterpoint to the drag of her mouth.
Barrett’s hips rolled forward on instinct, feeding her another inch of his shaft, and Gal’s throat relaxed to accept it without hesitation. She spread her knees wider on the carpet, grinding her own hips down against nothing, chasing friction she wouldn’t get until later, content for now to let the ache build untouched while she gave herself over to the weight of him on her tongue.
Gal’s mind narrowed to the heavy stretch of him against her tongue, the way the crown flared and dragged over her palate before she swallowed around it. Saliva spilled down his length and over her chin, but she didn’t pause. She hollowed her cheeks and took him deeper, the blunt pressure at the back of her throat sending a fresh clench of need through her own swollen sex.
Barrett watched the way her lips stretched around him, felt the tight suction pull at his balls with every descent. One hand came to rest at the back of her neck, not guiding, simply resting there, fingers curling loosely into her hair while the other braced against the mattress behind him, knuckles white with the effort of not thrusting harder than she could take. She shifted her weight, one hand bracing on his knee for balance, and he felt the small tremor running through her, felt how badly she wanted this as much as he did.
Their movements stayed synchronized without thought. When Gal pulled back to breathe, Barrett’s hand tightened just slightly in her hair, holding without pulling, and she sank down again the moment her lungs allowed it. Spit and arousal slicked her chin and the hand still working his base, the room filled with the obscene, rhythmic sound of her mouth working his cock.
Gal’s thighs started to shake with the sheer denial of it, want coiled tight and untouched low in her belly. She rocked back on her heels, chasing some imagined pressure, while her tongue lashed the sensitive spot beneath the head of his cock on every upstroke. Barrett’s breathing grew ragged, his cock pulsing against her tongue, and his hand in her hair finally curled tighter, holding her steady as his hips lost their rhythm.
The orgasm hit him without warning. Thick pulses of come shot straight down her throat, and Gal swallowed around him again and again, throat working, one hand still gripping the base of his cock to milk him through it. Barrett’s whole body went rigid above her, a low sound tearing out of his chest, and for a moment the hotel room, the bed, even the floor beneath her knees disappeared for both of them — there was only the heavy throb of his release and the desperate ache still throbbing unanswered between her thighs.
When the last tremors faded, Gal let his softening cock slip from her mouth and rested her forehead against his thigh, breath shuddering out of her. Barrett reached down, caught her under the arms, and hauled her up as he let himself fall backward onto the mattress, pulling her with him so her body came down sprawled across his. She landed half on his chest, one leg draped over his hip, her damp heat pressing against his skin. Neither of them reached for words yet — this was still just bodies, still just heat cooling in the dark — but his hand settled between her shoulder blades anyway, fingers tracing the line of her spine in short, absent strokes while her breathing slowed against his skin. The sweat cooled on their bodies. After a minute he stretched down, hooked his foot to shove the last twist of fabric off the end of the bed, and pulled the sheet over them both, then lay still again, one arm loose around her waist, telling himself it meant nothing more than convenience, and almost believing it.