Photo © by The Dirty Gentleman for Quickies in New York

Photo © by The Dirty Gentleman for Quickies in New York

I like to meet her at the door when she gets home from work. Especially when there are guests over she doesn’t know about, and especially when she drops to her knees the second she walks under the transom. It’s a silly little game, making her beg for my cock with six pairs of listening ears a few feet away, but it’s the small things in life that make it all worthwhile.

The other night she didn’t hesitate for a moment, and her words were loud and clear enough for all to hear. Halfway through, I pulled her up, still in the foyer, and had her take her dress off. I like to think she forgot about work instantly, although in truth it might have taken the applause to really bring her to the present. She turned the corner as I moved to the kitchen, and my guests smiled and clapped as she blushed the nicest shade of red.

The rest of the evening was inevitable from that point on, and we slipped into a lazy ease that felt so very much like summer. After passing out drinks, she moved the coffee table out of the way and knelt on the floor as the rest of us talked about our days and our weekends to come. As we sipped our cocktails, I waved her to an old friend with a flick of my fingers, and we all leaned back to watch her lift a dress and open her mouth against wet sin. The talking continued, but of course we let the pauses grow longer to make room for the lovely sighs of joy coming from the girl on the couch.

After one orgams, she moved back to the center of the room, and the mild conversation continued until I asked her to take the man next to me into her mouth. He toasted me with real affection as she pulled him hard and straining from his pants and took him all the way into her throat with one big breath. The breeze through the window did little to cool us down, but in truth there was no reason to be bothered by the heat. What use is summer if you can’t let go?

An hour later one of the newer couples in the room made use of both her ends as we slipped drunkenly into the couch pillows and watched. He fucked her slowly from behind as she pulled an open mouth between her thighs along with curious fingers and a languid tongue. Their drinks rested neatly on her back eliciting laughs with each small spill.

Later in the evening she knelt next to me, her own drink finally making its way to her lips as I pet her hair and whispered kind words into her ear. My guests let their hands slid under slips and inside undone pants without much effort at all, and the evening passed like all evenings should: with a glorious slowing of sweaty limbs and unbroken hearts. The music danced, the gin drifted, and the lips and faces of friends grew content with simple pleasures.

When we finally found ourselves alone it was to a big soft bed and linen sheets that did little to stifle the heat. We kissed and we whispered words of praise and delight. We touched faces and shoulders in the growing darkness, and when the bells chimed four they found us drifting in and out of sleep as we floated gently in a daze of sweetened dreams.