The amazing thing about New York City is the noise. From way up high, the city never sleeps. The traffic buzzes through the streets like so many bees, heavy on the taxis, a bold rush.

We just got back from the theatre, the fast cab, and we're starting to get tipsy from the vodka tonics. It's so late, and my feet are sore, but I haven't undressed yet because I know what's coming and I want it. The silence has settled, comfortable- we picked the show apart, all the performances, nuances and design, and now you're watching me like you do. I can feel your eyes burning into me as you change the music on the ipod and set down your drink.

I'm standing, my back to you, pressed up against the window of the hotel room, looking out, my tits cold against the glass, watching the traffic, listening, when I feel your hand around my neck, covering my mouth. I bite your fingers, then lick, as your other hand moves to my hair, pulling just a little bit. You kiss my neck, gentle, I can feel your breath, hovering. My nipples peak slightly against my shirt as you bite me. You don't care if you leave a mark, you never did. Insistent bites, nuzzling my neck, my hair, your hands moving around me, to my waist, caressing my belly, grinding your cock into the crack of my ass. One hand caressing the backs of my thighs, your nails raking up my ass cheeks and spreading them apart as you stroke your cock against the back of my silk thong, up against my skirt, one hand holding me up as I balance in my heels, my pussy getting so wet. And then your mouth, moving down my back as your hands swiftly turn me to face you, my back against the glass, as you lift my skirt and slide down my body, pushing my bra up to cup and squeeze my tits, hard so it hurts, tweaking the nipples, leaving my shirt up, my tits swollen and exposed for you. You spread the lips of my pussy with your fingers, looking up at me with that look of pure hunger.

"Say my name, bitch. I want to hear it. Make some noise for me. "

And then your tongue on my clit as you open me up, your hands on my ass as I spread my pussy for you. Eating me, licking my clit and nibbling on it. God so good. as I moan against you. You pull back.

"Show it to me. Show me what you do when you're thinking about me."

My fingers sweep my clit so slowly for you, smooth hard strokes up down, up down and all I want is for you to put your mouth back there but you're looking at it as I finger myself, looking at my thighs with my skirt hiked up.

"Mm mm mm," you say in that scoldy way.

God I want you to call me all sorts of names right now. But you just tell me again that that's the fucking hottest thing you've ever seen.

And then your hands go back on my ass as you start to fuck me with your mouth, with your fingers, and I have my hands in your hair and I can feel the oil on your skin and I just keep smoothing your forehead while you're eating me. Up against the glass, they can see from across the street and the light is on, and then you're up against me, still standing as I wrap a leg around you and your cock teases my hot wet pussy that I keep so tight for you and as you grind me, your hands work around to the back and now you've got me by both wrists and it hurts, pulling my shoulders back, my tits out. With a moment like wildfire you've cut the cord off the venetian blind and they fall in a cascade as you bind my wrists and toss me on the bed.

And as always, you look at me as you come in and start to fuck me hard, biting my tongue and teasing my mouth and torturing my already sore nipples and plundering my ass and you're still there saying,

"Come on, say my name. "

Three little letters. I scream them. You slam into me hard and I take it, all of it, every inch of the plow, you deep inside this ring of desire. You fuck me until you're exhausted, until my pussy clenches around your cock in helpless climax, until you shoot it all up into me and lay on top of me, spent. I want to feed you until you're full. You think you'll never be satisfied but you could be. You fuck me until you can't fuck anymore.