Upstairs

You broke the kiss and whispered in my ear to show you upstairs. Regaining some composure, I took your hand and led the way. As soon as we reached the top floor, you stopped me with a tug.

And kissed me again.

I held onto the railing while your hands pulled me into you. We shed a few pieces of clothing and kissed more urgently. Lips were bitten, tongues sucked, bodies pressed against one another. You took my hand and placed it on your cock, still covered by your boxer briefs. In response and for fairness' sake, I took your hand and placed it on my pussy, still covered by my panties. The growing bulge in your briefs made me want more than just touching though.

I crouched down in front of you, trapped between you and the balustrade. I pulled your briefs down to your thighs, releasing your cock in front of my face.  It was now heavy and hard, hot to the touch, pulsing in my hand. I looked at you and you didn't flinch, but when I licked the head, your mouth opened a bit, as if releasing a moan that didn't quite make it through.

I needed more though. I love a firm masculine touch, so I took your hands in mine while your cock was still in my mouth and placed your hands on my head. The non-verbal clue was well received. Your fingers threaded their way through strands of hair and you eventually imposed a soft rhythm, gently rocking your hips, letting me take you deeper and deeper, but never refusing me to catch my breath.  Your cock was now slick with saliva and my pussy was as much from my own excitement.

We left clothes scattered on the floor en route to the bedroom, where we later watched each other in the mirror, from the bench at the foot of the bed or the dresser by the window.