Baumgartner generations: Janie

GO4IT!

And I told myself, as I swept through the club on Catherine's arm, that I was just taking my own advice.

* * * *

We stopped for a courage-drink at the bar before we left-two shots of tequila each. The bar in the limo was stocked, too, and she kept pouring, champagne this time, petting me the whole way. But I was nowhere near as drunk as I'd been the last time we showed up at her penthouse apartment, and I'd forgotten how intimidating her wealth was. I hadn't even seen the view from her balcony before.

That night, we'd made it first to the immaculate white leather sofa, and then to her four-poster bed, where I'd woken up early and tried to sneak out. When she woke, looking as hung over as I felt but still gorgeous, her hair hanging in red waves over the side of the bed, asking where I was going, I told her, "I'll take the subway home," and took off.

"This place is…breathtaking." I looked out across the terrace to the lights of the city, flickering like fireflies in the night. The whole place was alive and moving below us.

"Nowhere near as breathtaking as you are." Catherine pulled the tie behind my neck, moving her hands over my shoulders, sweeping the material away. It puddled in a creamy, silky heap at my feet and I stood there in my panties and heels, letting her massage my breasts, standing in front of the window for all of New York to see if they wanted to.

"So sexy." She slid a hand down my belly, under the elastic edge of my cream-colored panties, her fingers parting my flesh. "Oh god, so wet…!"

I was. I knew she must be too, between the music and the dancing and the drinking and the anticipation. I wanted to turn around and kiss her, to show her how much I wanted her, how good it felt to be there, but her finger found my clit, rubbing in circles, and I was lost.

"Oh, yes…" I leaned back against her, my nipples hardening. I saw our reflection in the glass, my blond head arched back against her shoulder, her red one bent to brush kisses over my neck.

I should have felt awkward or ashamed of myself, going home with a woman I hardly knew, practically a stranger. Okay, so I'd done it once already… but I'd never called her, she'd never called me. It was just a one-night stand, a little bit of very drunk fun for both of us. I hadn't planned to ever repeat it, with her or anyone else.

But here I was again.

"Let's go to bed." I didn’t want to see myself doing this, even just in reflection.

"Mmmm…not yet…" She grabbed my hips, swinging me around and pressing me against the door wall. I gasped as the cold glass met my back, but the heat of her breath warmed me when she sank to her knees, pulling my panties aside to probe my slit with her tongue.

"Cat…" I moaned in spite of myself when she sucked at my clit. "Come on. Not here."

"Right here," she insisted, pulling my panties down to my knees, her eyes meeting mine. "Right now."

I was buzzed, but I wasn't drunk. I definitely wasn't too drunk to care that we were standing in front of a window, that anyone might see us. But the more her tongue

and fingers delved, the more exciting the thought became. What if someone was watching us? What if some voyeuristic guy across the way had a pair of binoculars and was standing there, cock in hand, watching Catherine lick my cunt?

"I wanted to do this to you right there in the bathroom." Her voice was husky, her fingers sliding in deep. Oh god, what if she had? The thought made me burn. "Right there on the dance floor."

Jesus. While the entire club watched?

"Oh god." I stroked the thick mass of her hair as she tongued my clit. "That's so good. I don't think… oh! I don't think I can stand up much longer…"

It was true-my knees were actually weak.

"Come here." She directed me, sitting me on the edge of the coffee table and spreading my thighs. "Don't move."

I watched as she stood, slipping out of her dress, too, and then kneeling in front of me, both of us now in panties and heels, black and white. She slipped her heels off, but mine were the strappy kind and I didn't want to take the time to struggle with the straps.

"I'm going to lick you until you come all over my face." She parted labia with her fingers, admiring my cunt. "Then I'm going to take you to my room and fuck you with a strap-on until you can't breathe or think or do anything but come and come and come for me…"

Oh my god. My whole body prickled with excitement, but she was right, I didn't have time to think. The world could have been watching and I wouldn't have cared. She worked at my pussy with her tongue, her fingers, moaning against my clit as she ate me, all the while rubbing her own cunt. I leaned back on the coffee table, pulling my knees back and spreading wide for her. I wanted her to devour me, to make me forget everything, and for a while, she did.

"So close," I managed, grabbing her hair and driving my hips upward, my nipples hardening almost to the point of pain as I climaxed, using her tongue to get myself off.