The Exhibitionist
The exhibitionist loves to flirt with shame.
-Mason Cooley
J ames touched me today. The guy in my building I’ve been swooning over for ages touched me. I barely know him, but I know I liked it.
When I entered the elevator on the fifteenth floor, he lifted his head, and we locked eyes. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The other three people in the lift faded away. We didn’t break our gaze until I turned to face the doors, giving him my back. His dominating presence filled the space behind me. Heat knotted in my stomach, spreading through my arms and into my face. Thank goodness he couldn’t see how red my cheeks were .
I have to admit, I’ve fantasized about James more than once on lonely nights in my studio apartment. His broad shoulders, his dark hair, his perfect jawline. Maybe he knocks on my door late at night for a cup of sugar, and I invite him in. He backs me against a wall and kisses his way up my neck. I ask him to join me in my bedroom to fix the ache between my thighs. The sugar was just a ploy, he admits, telling me he’s been wanting to fuck me since he first saw me. After entering my room, I relinquish control to him. He bosses me around, and I gladly do every dirty deed he demands.
Was it possible he knew how much I wanted him? We’ve had a casual hello in the lobby, a flirtatious wink by the mailboxes, and an appreciative glance when we see each other in the building. I swear there was a spark between us, that my hunger was mirrored in his eyes. But nothing serious or substantial had ever happened—until today.
The elevator came to a stop. Two more people stepped onto the elevator at floor thirteen. The residents shuffled to make room as I sidled backward, closer to James, pressed into the back corner of the elevator. The hair on my arms stood up, and I knew he must be watching me. I was infinitely glad he couldn’t see how flushed my chest was.
Another stop. Floor eleven. A woman I’d seen around the b uilding a few times squeezed into the last bit of free room in the already cramped box, barking orders on her phone. The morning work rush was in full swing.
James’ hands seized my hips, and he pulled me against him. The air in my lungs caught, and I could feel him. His hot breath tickled my neck, and I couldn’t ignore the unmistakable throbbing between my thighs. Surprised, I tipped my head back to look at his face. He smirked and tilted his chin up toward the doors, gesturing for me to keep my eyes forward. I obeyed. How did he know an assertive man was one of my weaknesses?
His right arm snaked around my waist, holding me close while his left hand slipped below the waistband of my skirt. I glanced around the elevator to make sure no one was watching, panic and desire rising in my chest.
I moved my purse to the center of my body, doing my best to disguise what was about to happen. The angry lady on the phone yelled about a misplaced order. James paused, just above the top of my thong, waiting for my permission. Already growing wet with anticipation, I made sure no one was looking and nodded. A low hum of approval sounded from his throat when I inched closer to him.
His hand slid down, and his fingers brushed inside my folds, gl iding in circles on my clit as I stifled a moan. I bit the inside of my cheeks to silence my cry. The arm around my waist tightened, and I could hear his quiet breathing quicken. My panic evaporated, and pleasure flowed in its place. I allowed my eyes to close and kept my head down, my hair hiding my face. His dick was firm and pressed against my lower back. The familiar pull of my orgasm rose as he stroked and pressed on my clit, my body desperate for a release at his hands, lost in the moment.
The sharp chime of the elevator brought me to my senses. The doors opened as James skillfully removed his hand from between my thighs, releasing his arm around my waist at the same time.
We were already on the main floor? My pussy pulsed with need, and my face burned as residents flooded out into the lobby. Too stunned to move, I watched James follow suit with a quick wink over his shoulder.
What just happened? Sure, I didn’t get a release, but I wasn’t about to complain. The rush. The exhilaration. The riskiness of it all. He’d lit a fuse in me I didn't realize existed.
As I looked up and saw James exit the building, the elevator doors slid shut. A bashful beam spread across my already pink face, and I leaned against the wall and exhaled. He would be back for more. I could feel it.
Over the next week, I saw James a handful of times. We shared flirtatious, knowing looks when crossing paths in the building. At the mailboxes, he ran his fingers through my hair and whispered in my ear that he’d been thinking of me. In the lobby, he full-on kissed me in front of everyone coming and going. Nothing like what happened in the elevator, though. Nothing with the same amount of adrenaline.
God, it replays in my dreams every night. I desperately hoped it wasn’t a one-off. Every night, I closed my eyes and craved his touch. Mine isn’t enough, even though I stroke myself on repeat to the memory of his fingers.
Yesterday, he caught me as I left for work and asked me to come to his place tomorrow night for dinner. The way my heart almost leapt out of my chest as I accepted. Then he told me to take the stairs. If it were anyone else, I would’ve thought it a strange request, but he had a look in his hazel eyes that told me I should say yes.
Secretly, I wanted another repeat of the elevator. I wanted him to make a move where we could get caught. I would’ve said yes if he’d asked me to meet him on the freaking roof. So, taking the stairs? Yeah, I was going to do that, no problem .
I brushed my hair and left it down, adding in some loose curls. Some simple black eyeliner and mascara, a little clear lip gloss, and I was ready to go. I left the rest of my face fresh and bare.
Earlier, I’d selected an emerald slip dress to wear. Maybe it was a bit formal, but it hugged my hips just right. No shame in showing off my best assets. Not to mention how low-cut it was. So I wanted to get his attention—who wouldn’t?
I left my apartment and made my way to the stairwell. Would we have supper and that’s it tonight? Did he cook for me or order in? Did he want to touch me again like the first time? God, I hoped that was it. He could make me burnt macaroni, and I wouldn’t give a damn as long as his hands were on me at some point this evening.
I startled at the sight of James waiting for me on the landing of the sixteenth floor, leaning against the back wall.
A tailored black dress shirt hugged his chest, his dark hair was tousled, and his gaze was intent on mine. I raced up the final two steps. He grabbed a fistful of my dress and pulled me against him.
“I missed this soft skin. This red hair. This tight ass,” he whispered, his voice husky in my ear.
My nerve endings lit up at the sound of his voice. I breathed in the heady aroma of his aftershave—warm and rich like amber and polished leather.
“Have you been thinking about me?” he asked, running his nose up the side of my cheek.
“You’re all I can think about,” I murmured, transfixed by his confidence.
He ran his hands through my hair, placing it to one side and exposing my skin to his hungry mouth. I moaned as he kissed from my neck to my collarbone. Roughly shoving down one strap of my dress, he exposed my breast. He pushed me against the far wall of the landing, mouth on my peaked nipple.
“You liked how I touched you in the elevator.” A statement, not a question, rumbled from his tantalizing mouth.
“Yes,” I exhaled, my heart racing. I’d never been so turned on before.
James’ gaze found mine, intense with need. “Should I touch you again, Layla?”
I nodded. Our bodies and mouths crashed together. His tongue found mine, and I opened to him with feverish intent, drunk on the cinnamon taste of him. I ran my palms down his sculpted chest and made my way to his belt.
“No,” he growled, turning me to face the wall. “We can get to me later.” Lifting my hands, he pressed them against the rough surface. “Keep them there, or I’ll stop.”
He slid the soft hem of my dress up my thighs as his touch co ntinued to roam. “Fuck, Layla. No underwear?” he hissed.
“Easy access,” I purred.
He ran a finger through my wet slit before pushing inside of me, stretching me, feeling me, possessing me. I squirmed as he stoked the fire that had been burning in me for days, never quite satisfied by my own caress.
“Give me more, James.”
He placed me on the stairs leading to the next floor. The rough concrete scraped against my bare skin and back, but I didn’t care. Fully exposed to him, he plunged back into me with two fingers. My head angled back as a sweeping sense of pleasure radiated through my body.
“Anyone could walk in on us. Anyone could see you spread out for me, riding my fingers,” he whispered in my ear. “Does that turn you on?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
Adding his thumb on my clit, he began gently circling, learning how I responded to his touch. He tongued my nipple and smothered my breast with his mouth.
“You feel so fucking good in my mouth. I can’t wait to taste every part of you,” he groaned.
Lost in the thrill of him, I didn’t register the distinctive sound of a door opening and closing until the latch click echoed through the stairwell. Coming to my senses, I st arted to sit up. “James, I think someone is coming.”
“You?” He didn’t miss a beat, a smug smile on his faultless face.
“James!” I hissed, swatting at his shoulder.
He kissed my lips, soft and slow. “If you don’t want to be caught, you better stay quiet.”
I nodded, lying back against the staircase with my lower lip between my teeth. Staying quiet wasn’t one of my strong suits. I could already feel the tremble in my legs as he licked up my neck and curled his fingers inside me over and over again.
God, the way he played with my clit was perfect—gentle but picking up speed. The shameless bulge in his pants called to me, and I tried to palm it.
“I said we’d get to me later.” He grabbed my wrist and brought it to the back of his neck. “Behave, or I’ll call out to the strangers down the stairs.”
“Okay, okay. Later,” I murmured.
His thumb moved faster on my clit, and I saw stars. The fingers inside me rocked at a pace that had me squeezing my legs together.
“Do you hear that?” a woman’s voice rang out from below, echoing off the concrete walls.
A loaded pause filled the air, and James pressed a hand over my mouth to keep me silent. The first waves of my orgasm rolled through my body, knowing we might be caught. I bucked against him. My need to voice the eu phoria rushing through me grew stronger. Keeping quiet was one of the most trying things I’d ever freaking done.
“Hmm?” questioned another voice. “No, I don’t hear anything. We’re running late, come on.” The door clicked closed from the floor below.
James removed his hand from my mouth and fingered me through the rest of my orgasm. Unable to contain myself anymore, I cried out. The final rumbles cascaded through my body, and he watched my face, enraptured.
“Such a pretty fucking picture.” His gaze met my own, and he pressed his lips to mine while I lifted from the fog of my ecstasy, breath slowing, finding myself again. “Hungry?”
I giggled, pulling my dress back down over my legs and up over my breasts. “Starving.”
He took my hand, kissed my wrist, and led me up the stairs to his apartment.
If I didn’t realize it our first time in the elevator, I did now. James was a bit of an exhibitionist. Hell, I was becoming one too. And now we were officially dating.
It wasn’t something I thought I was into, but James awoke something in me. Playing with him in places where we cou ld get caught turned me on like a fire hose. And sometimes we got caught. Honestly, I think I preferred that to getting away with it. Something about someone else seeing us and the danger of it all.
He was taking me out this evening. I was hoping it would be the night tonight. Our games had become more daring in the past few weeks. But I wanted more. I wanted him to fuck me in public. Somewhere we might be found. And my gut told me tonight was that night. My body vibrated with the thought of it.
It’s never something we plan out. It happens spur-of-the-moment when we see a suitable spot or don’t want to wait until we get back to one of our apartments to fool around. But something was buzzing between us right now.
“For you.” James slid a black box across his kitchen island to where I stood. “For tonight.”
My eyes widened at the sight of the sleek box and ornate design. It looked expensive. I lifted the lid and peeled away the black tissue paper.
A vibrator. Oh, hell yes. I pulled it out and turned it over in my hands. Vibrant pink and made to wrap from pussy to clit. An empty indent in the foam insert suggested something was missing. I ran my finger around it, trying to figure out what it could be for. Something for James? A cock ring, maybe? The shape wasn’t right for that, though…
He came around the island and kissed me on the shoulder. “Looking for this?” He held up the tiny remote control.
My mouth dropped open. “Am I wearing this out tonight?”
“You are. Put it in,” he directed with a smack to my ass. “Our cab is waiting downstairs.”
I rushed to his bedroom and grabbed the lube from his bedside table. Pulling down my thong, I put the vibrator in, loving how full it made me feel.
It was like one other I had, though the smaller end of this new one was adjustable. Smart. Why weren't the other two-pronged vibrators I had adjustable? Apparently, I’d been living in the past because this vibrator was light-years ahead of my other toys. I adjusted it over my clit and pulled my underwear back up. James knew what he was doing.
Tonight was going to be fun.
Sitting at the dinner table, finishing our entrees, tiny rivulets of sweat ran down my lower back. James was not messing around with the vibrator controls.
He edged me the entire cab ride to the restaurant. Talking with me like it was another everyday conversation, making jokes with the driver, asking him to take the long way to our destination. Not once did he acknowledge what he was doing to me, though I knew he paid close attention so he wouldn’t tip me over the edge. No word of a lie—knowing the driver might’ve suspected something only turned me on more.
Squirming in my seat, breathing fast and shallow, pressing my thighs together to stop the ache that was building at breakneck speeds. None of these things were normal to do in the back of a taxi. Especially when their boyfriend appeared nonplussed by the entire experience.
Well, not completely nonplussed. The occasional lick of his lips and squeeze of my thigh told me he was getting off on seeing me struggle. I did my best to appear normal—sitting somewhat still, eyes forward, nodding my head along with the conversation. Though I’m pretty sure I didn’t disguise my state near well enough.
Now I was soaked, sitting at a table in a very public restaurant. And I wasn’t soaking from sweat, though I was perspiring.
“How’s the lamb shoulder?” James asked, pretending like he wasn’t in the middle of a long, torturous stretch of using the remote on me.
“It’s…really…good.” I struggled to get the words out. Even though the food was to die for, it was becoming difficult to eat.
He chuckled and stopped the vibrator, giving me a much-needed break .
I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow. “Oh my god, James. How long was that?”
He tilted his head to this side. “Forty-five seconds.”
I stared at him. “What? That’s all?”
“Catch your breath. Finish your lamb. Then I’ll play with you some more.” He took a bite of his ribeye. “Is the lamb actually good?”
I shoveled another forkful into my mouth. The sweet brandy au jus roused my taste buds. “I meant it. It might be one of the best meals I’ve ever had.”
“Only a few bites left,” he said.
“Want to try a piece?”
“You know I’ll try anything of yours.” He leaned forward across the table, and I placed a forkful of tender meat into his mouth. “Delicious,” he said with a wink.
I took my last bite of squash and lamb and set down my utensils. James wasted no time reaching into his pocket and turning the vibrator back on. I jumped at the sudden change in sensation.
The couple sitting closest to our table gave me a peculiar glance, which only spurred me on. I didn’t want to be obvious, but I didn’t mind people speculating.
He buzzed me quickly, then stopped.
“Are you done al—” Oh, there it was. And off again. “James, what are you?—”
My head fell into my hands, and I tried not to draw too much attention from the surrounding patrons. The sweet, staccato bursts were pushing me fast toward a climax. Now I was ready to detonate—but I knew he wouldn’t let me. I needed to come. I needed to fall apart with some sort of audience. If I had to get on my hands and knees right here, right now, I would.
“James,” I pleaded in a whisper. “I can't handle much more. I feel like I’m going crazy.”
His grin was too much to take. This was getting him off, and as much as I loved that, I also loved orgasming. He slowly raised his glass of water to his lips, taking me in before taking a drink.
“Watching you like this is so fucking sexy. Writhing in your seat, trying to hide it in front of all these people. I’m so fucking hard, Layla.” His chest was heaving. How did I not notice that before?
“Fuck me, James. I need you to fuck me. I need to come. I need something ,” I begged under my breath.
“It’s time for dessert.” He was toying with me.
I was ready to lift my dress and take care of myself amidst the fifty other guests in this restaurant. “I can’t wait, James. I need you now. Please.”
“I think you misunderstand. It’s time for our dessert ,” he intoned, using his head to gesture toward the bathrooms at the back of the restaurant.
I almost cried out in relief. “Oh, thank God, yes.” I was out of my chair faster than a person could say orgasm and h eading for one of the single occupancy facilities near the kitchen.
From the door of the washroom, I saw James follow a few beats behind me, stalking me like a cougar hunting his prey.
Entering the washroom, he threw the door closed and grabbed me around the waist. He boosted me onto the sleek vanity. Not wasting any time, he unbuckled his belt with one hand and shoved up my dress with the other. He grabbed the vibrator tucked inside my pussy. Like it offended him, he pulled it out and tossed it next to the sink.
“The only thing I want inside you now is me,” he rasped out. His thumbs found my aching nipples pebbled against the soft cotton of my dress, and I let out a loud moan.
“Take out my cock, Layla,” James commanded, hands moving away from my breasts to sweep down the sides of my body.
He was so rigid, his erection threatened to escape his navy boxer briefs. With a simple tug, his cock sprang out. The term mouth-watering didn’t do it justice. Expensive meal be damned. I wanted to eat James. Wrap my lips around his long, thick shaft, and go to town. I wrapped my palm around his cock and urged him closer to me, the ache in my pussy unbearable .
“Tsk, tsk. Greedy girl,” he scolded. “I want you to watch yourself come apart.”
He lifted me off the counter and turned me to face the mirror. Tugging my dress over my ass, he bent me over the sink and placed my hands on either side of the counter.
“You’re going to watch me fuck you, Layla. See how much I love filling you with my cock.”
“Please, James. Give it to me now,” I begged.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” he teased, dragging the head of his dick along my wet slit.
“Oh my god, James. I need you now,” I said with a whimper.
He obliged, entering me in a single thrust. “Baby, you take me so fucking well.”
His dick stretched me in the most delicious way. With each stroke, he became more fevered, more insistent, more wild. I watched him come apart in the mirror, his gaze dangerous and eyes hooded. My breasts bounced in time to his relentless pounding. Seeing him watch them in the reflection made my pussy pulse.
“You did so good tonight,” he praised. “I loved making you a dripping, thirsting mess for everyone to see.” He slammed into me harder with each drive of his hips.
My orgasm advanced, threatening to erupt out of me at any moment. Heat twisted in my stomach and spread out t hrough my legs, curling my toes. Every muscle in my body tensed. A scream burst from my mouth, and I closed my eyes.
James urged me on. “That’s right, baby. Let everyone hear you.”
He met my orgasm with his own, filling me up with a low groan that had my pussy clench down on his cock. Tears ran down my cheeks as wave after wave of aftershocks hit me.
Finally .
Outside the door, patrons ate their filet mignon and Caesar salads, unaware a woman in the washroom just got fucked six ways from Sunday. Well, mostly unaware. I knew my scream probably drew attention from people sitting closest to the back of the restaurant.
Good. Let them hear.
Someone hammered on the other side of the door. “What’s going on in there?” a croaky voice yelled. “Get out or I’m getting the manager!” More pounding. All he had to do was try the door handle, and he would’ve come face-to-face with us. We never locked the door. Oops.
“He sounds pissed,” I snickered, turning to rest my forehead against his and rearranging my dress.
“Because he’s not getting any action tonight,” he laughed, doing up his pants. “Come on, let’s throw some cash on the table and leave before they kick us out.”
“I don’t think we’ll be allowed back.”
“Unless they don’t know it was us,” James replied, mischief twinkling in his eyes.
He grabbed my hand and flung open the bathroom door. A short, stocky, bald man was waiting with his arms crossed. There may as well have been steam pouring out from his ears for how red his face was. He looked up at James. And up. And up. Until they made eye contact. The fire in the man’s eyes dulled, but he didn’t back down.
The corner of James’ mouth ticked up. “Can I help you?”
“Wipe that smirk off your face,” the angry little man spit.
Fat chance that was going to happen.
“I don’t think I will,” James countered.
“I’m trying to have an enjoyable meal with my missus, and all we can hear is you two doing what you’re doing in there!” he snapped.
“And what were we doing?” James leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, still holding my hand.
Angry Bald Man opened his mouth to answer, but only sputtering starts of words came out. He took a second to compose himself. “You know what you were doing. ”
“Oh, we certainly do.” James leaned in until he was inches from the man’s face. “I was buried so deep inside her pussy, I made her see stars.”
“Don’t talk like that! People can hear you. My wife can hear you, and she’s none too pleased!” the man bellowed, turning the deepest shade of red I’d ever seen.
Who knew humans could look like beets?
“Maybe if you talked more like that in your marital bedroom, your wife would be pleased where it counts.” James slipped the vibrator’s remote control into the man’s shirt pocket. “The matching vibrator’s in there,” he motioned backward with his head. “Wash it, maybe try it out with your lady. It’s all yours.” He pushed past the fuming man and pulled me with him.
James threw several bills on the table, leaving a healthy tip, and we snuck out the side door into the cool night air. I could hear the man yelling, “Manager! Manager!” as the door closed behind us.
My heart pounded in my chest, and the grin on my face was so big, I don’t know how it didn’t stretch right off my face.
“We fucked in the bathroom,” I said.
“Yes, we did,” James chuckled.
“And we got caught.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
He wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry, I’ll call and pay for the man and his wife ’s meal. We don’t want him directing his fury to the wait staff.”
“Can we do that in every restaurant in the city?” I asked, still riding the high from being caught. James’ cum dripped down my thighs, and I reveled in the sensation.
“Name the time and place, baby, and I’ll take you there.”
I nuzzled into his chest. “You mean it?”
“Layla, I’ll take you anywhere.”