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Maybe... Maybe? Really, Enya? She could not believe herself. She bit her lip. Oh, my god? Will I really be bold enough… crazy enough to fuck some random stranger in the middle of the night?
Enya shook her head. Is this me or the blueberry margaritas talking? No… it’s me – for sure. She admitted it; the margaritas were not to be blamed. A girl could get crazy… once.
Enya had spent her first thirty years living her tame life, taking risks only when it came to her business; never personal life. Her sex life, as much as she had one, could be described as nothing but tame.
This is the night I make a change!
Enya knew that she had made up her mind the moment she looked into his eyes. She couldn’t see the color anymore as the thick yellow glasses he wore hid it from her. Still, nothing could conceal that piercing gaze of his; so raw and honest. And the golden rings that reflected the lights from street lamps through the prism of yellow glasses was so magically beautiful. Though Enya did not know the street artist’s name or age or any important information, she was almost ready to say she trusted him. It had felt good to be saved, to be held in those strong arms. She smiled to herself.
“I... I’ve never done this before,” she dropped her gaze but was relieved when he put two of his long, strong fingers under her chin and tilted her head up so that she was looking into his eyes again.
“I assume by ‘this’ you mean hooking up with a stranger in the middle of the empty street?” he spoke, his voice much huskier than before.
She knew he was grinning at her beneath his black mask. A mask that made him look mysterious and was turning her on. Not that she feared she might’ve not liked him if she saw his face; he had to be beautiful. But with half of his face hidden from her, Enya could pay more attention to other details that would’ve otherwise scared her away. Tonight, she was not a girl to be scared away easily.
She ran her finger along the curve of his thick brow. It was pierced with a small black stone that shined when it caught the light. His black bandana hid his hair and Enya wondered what color it was.
“I guess this is a usual thing for you, though,” she commented casually, feeling a sting of jealousy at the words.
“Not at all,” he said as he let out an uneasy bark of laughter. “Don’t believe the image that’s been painted of us. Street artists aren’t hooking up with girls left and right.”
“Oh... Am I the only one you’ve been with… out here?” She suddenly felt embarrassed, having nearly given herself to him so easily, but was lessened when she read the clear desire in his body language… and felt the bulge rising from his trousers, pushing against her leg.
“Maybe...” he narrowed her eyes at her. Even those already hateful yellow glasses could not hide the dangerous shine of his eyes. “Or maybe not... Let’s go. One more minute of you being this close and I’ll take you right here in the middle of the street.”
Those rough words and the raw need that she heard in his voice made Enya’s insides quiver. Her mound was throbbing with desire and as much as she truly wanted to be all the way crazy and let him take her right there, somehow getting arrested for public sex was not on her birthday wish-list. He took her hand and led the way.
Enya felt her legs tremble. It was not the alcohol the effects of which were already fading. Not even the unsettling thought that she was letting a stranger take her through a maze of narrow dark streets. She doubted she could be unlucky enough to trip over and fall down into the lap of a serial killer on her birthday. That left only one reason - the overwhelming desire that was flowing through her body already.
“We are almost there. How about taking it a bit higher?” he asked cocking his brow at her in that very sexy way that she had already come to love about him.
“Oh… no. I don’t get high,” Enya bit her lip, suddenly wondering if she made a wrong decision.
“That’s not what I mean, baby” he chuckled.
And there was something sweet and endearing in the way he called her ‘baby’. Enya was used to being the smart one among her friends, the stubborn one in her family, the successful one in her small business initiative, but never the loved and cherished ‘baby’ cradled in caring, strong arms.
“I thought we could climb on the roof of this building. It opens a nice view... and is less conspicuous,” he explained.
Enya nodded. She was losing her ability to talk way too quickly for her liking. And he had not even touched her yet. Well, except that strong grip on her hand and his thumb caressing her fingers in sensual, slow motion.
“I’ve created my first piece of art there,” he looked away and his grip on her fingers tightened.
Enya took his other hand, “I’m going to like it, I’m sure.”
She knew her statement was vague and Enya didn’t even know herself if she was talking about the man’s art or what they were planning on doing together. Enya didn’t know much about her mysterious street artist, but she could see the very sensitive soul hidden behind masks, glasses, and the cocky facade.
They found the emergency exit of the building and climbed up the six flights of stairs. At the top L. quickly picked the lock and lifted open the hatch impeding their progress. L. stepped up on the roof and offered his hand to Enya to help her out onto the building’s crown. Once she gathered her wits, Enya gasped at the view. All around were very tall buildings with thousands of street colorful lights shining through their windows. The sky above them was filled with thousands of stars. Enya looked around startled at seeing a side of the city she wasn’t use to embracing.
Enya turned and found her mystery man leaning against a nearby wall. Next to him was his artwork, the first according to him. It was a black and white painting featuring one word – “unbreakable”. The design was beautiful. Less mature than the one he had created tonight, but the style, the raw anger, the strength to oppose whatever demons he was facing in his life was the same.
“Don’t say anything,” he said as he turned her and pushed her backward, pressed her body against the wall with his graffiti. The cold stone against her back sent shivers through Enya’s body. He stepped closer and claimed her lips in a kiss. It was a passionate one and this time it was his tongue invading her mouth and him being in control. He took his time to explore her mouth, suck her tongue, deepening the kiss and devouring her. He let go of her only when she was completely out of breath. Her lips felt swollen when he freed them; swollen, and lonely. Enya needed more. She leaned for another kiss, but he pushed her back.
“My lead,” he said in low, commanding voice and her body submitted to his will obediently even before the words registered in her mind.
He cupped her face and looked into her eyes for a long moment and she held still - letting him decide what he wanted to do with her. He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose, then her cheek, then, sucked at her earlobe until she was moaning loudly and could feel her nipples harden with desire. He then let the tortured lobe out of his mouth and breathed cool air on it. He continued his kissed down the side of her neck, her throat, then up to bite her jaw and steal a loud moan from her. Soon, every inch of her face was covered with kisses - except for her needy lips.
Oh, this man could be cruel, Enya realized.
She had no time to voice her complaint, though, as he ran two fingers of each hand down her throat in parallel lines, sliding down her collarbones directly toward her breasts. He grabbed her both nipples through her shirt and pinched the buds between his fingers. Sharp pain burst inside the excited tips, then spread as a wave of pleasure through her body. Her pussy tightened in response, her clit ached with the need to be touched in that same way. Enya found herself surprised, having never enjoyed rough foreplay, yet now wanting nothing else more.
She lost the thread of her thoughts when he squeezed her nipples once again, rubbing them between his thumb and index finger. He continued his slow, painfully delightful torture until Enya could take no more of it. His strong body was crashing hers between him and the wall and she tried to rub her needy sex against his thigh.
“Impatient are we?” he teased as he bit her jaw again and gave her nipples one last tug before releasing them from his captivity.
Enya regretted it immediately, though not for long, as those ruthless hands slid further down her body, with one finger he circles her navel as the other went further down, finding and lifting the hem of her dress.
Yes, there... a bit more, she thought.
Her clit was too hard and excited to stand another moment without being touched. She knew she was blushing as she let all those naughty thoughts and desired storm in her mind. His fingers never made to their destination, though. He pulled her dress up to her waist, revealing her ass to the cool night air. Enya could feel goose-flesh cover the soft globes of her behind. It was in no way going to cool the fire blazing between her legs, though.
He filled each hand of his with the flesh of her ass, digging his long fingers into her soft body, inhaled her scent deeply. Enya shuddered, nearly ready to burst even without her street artist yet touching her where she wanted him desperately to be.
His fingers released her ass to find her soaked panties. Enya smiled as his fingers slipped between the fabric and her thigh. She couldn’t stand another moment of the lacy garmet blocking his way into her body. She expected him to push the small piece of lace down to her knees, or further. However, he simply ripped them from her body.
“Aww,” a surprised moan escaped her throat and earned a deep sucking on the side of her throat.
Enya knew she’d have a hickey next morning, and the thought of taking home a mark of his passion left her panting. L. grabbed her ass again and this time, Enya let go of all control of her body as he picked her up, lifted her so that her now-revealed pussy was in line with his hard cock; though he was still trapped inside his pants. Enya swore she could feel the heat from his throbbing member through the denim she desperately wished no longer existed.
He pulled her closer to him and carried a few steps away from the wall she was leaning at, supporting her body completely. Enya wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. She was surprised at his strength as well as the amount of trust she had put in a complete stranger.
He placed kisses - light as butterflies on her throat and jawline again. His lips were rough and his stubble left her itching for it’s touch to return, which was the spark needed to set the fire inside her ablaze. Enya’s heart almost jumped out of her chest when his one hand moved to unzip his pants, leaving only one strong arm to support her weight. She clung to his body, tightening her grip, holding on for dear life. Her breathing was ragged with need, fear, excitement - too many emotions storming inside her.
A moment later, the street artist’s fully erect member was freed. He pressed himself up, rubbing against her clit, covering himself in her juices and maddening her with that long-expected stimulation. She wanted to ask for more, but soon her mouth was filled with his tongue again. Enya moaned into him as his cock, lubricated in her desire, entered her body. In one push, he buried all of his girth inside her, stretching her pussy to its limits.
L. looked right into her eyes as he started thrusting into her. With some thrusts he was pushing into her, rocking and gyrating his hips. Other times, he was moving her ass up and down his shaft, as if she was light as a feather and he could use her body to fuck his cock. Enya felt so exposed when their eyes locked. She could see all of her, while his own eyes were still hidden behind the bright yellow goggles. She wanted to look away, hide, bury her head in the hollow of his shoulder.
“Look at me”, he spoke.
Enya found that his voice did crazy things to her. She didn’t know how to resist that commanding tone and the silky, low voice that sent waves of vibration into her. Neither of them broke eye contact as he slowly worked both of them toward the peak of pleasure. He kept on shifting her weight from one arm to another while making sure the other hand explored all the needy parts of her body. Enya’s clit finally received attention and her nipples felt so raw that Enya knew they were going be sore for days; reminding her of this momentary craziness.
By the time Enya felt her orgasm threatening to explode inside her, she was unable to form any coherent words beyond loud moans. He crushed her against the wall and starting thrusting deeper and faster into her. His own breathing was growing too uneven, movements hectic and hurried, heartbeat maddeningly fast and loud. She could feel the hot cock pounding her body swell with the need of release. Her own sex quivered with anticipation.
Enya’s heart almost stopped when her whole body went numb for a moment; right before the massive wave of her orgasm blazed inside her and washed through her whole body. She screamed as soon as she was able to release a sound. For long moments, she could not breathe, and her legs and arms felt numb. He held her in his strong arms, never stopping thrusting into her; never giving her a moment to catch her breath of recover from her orgasm. Her body was still shaking from the aftershocks of her released when he groaned and joined her in bliss.
As their bodies enjoyed the peace they found in each others’ arms, he pressed his forehead against hers and looked at her through the yellow glasses. His breathing puffed on her lips as he murmured words that her mind could not comprehend. Enya was still on another planet. In one moment she would allow herself to come back to her reality. In one moment, she would pull her dress down her thighs hiding her torn panties. In one moment, she would be ready to leave him and never see him again. Until then, she was going to cherish this last moment of craziness she had allowed herself to feel.
“Will I see you again?” he asked as he lowered her body and made sure she could stand on her legs.
Enya still felt quite wobbly, so she leaned against the graffiti wall. As much as she wanted to say yes, she closed her eyes and shook her head no.
“If you ever change your mind, I usually come to this rooftop on Friday nights,” he brushed his lips against hers but did not kiss her. “Happy birthday,” were the last words he spoke as Enya forced herself to start walking away from him.
He was leaning against the graffiti wall when she turned to look at him one last time. She smiled and thought he had not pulled the hem of his mask down, she knew he smiled back at her.
End of a dream, Enya, she teased herself. Welcome back to your single, lonely life.