Candid Camera

(Part 1 from 1)

Mariko and I met for lunch at Crown Center – a large indoor mall in downtown Kansas City. We were both reporters at two KC newspapers and had begun an affair at another midwestern paper before meeting again.

She had full lips, haughty cheekbones, ink-black hair, large, liquid, deep brown eyes and a body and mind to die for. I was married, soon to be divorced and she helped me out of that jam before we eventually went our separate ways about a year later.

Because of our work schedules and my marital entanglement, we hadn’t seen each other for nearly three weeks and the sexual tension was at its peak as we fondled each other’s legs and crotches beneath the long white linen tablecloth.

“Meet me for lunch at 1,” she’d said a couple hours later, calling from home. “I’ll pick you up outside.”

“Don’t wear any panties,” I’d replied.

“Don’t you either,” she’d said, laughing.

So I’d gone into the newspaper men’s room, taken off my briefs, put my jeans back on and stuffed my wadded up underwear in a pocket and hoped none of my coworkers would notice my already bulging eagerness as I quickly went back to my desk and pretended to work while willing the clock to hurry.

We had trouble concentrating on the menu, only ordering soup and sandwiches – which we hardly touched -- and knocking back a carafe of red wine while our fingers interlocked, tracing patterns on our burning flesh that we imagined tracking elsewhere in private.

I let my fingers roam up her firm thighs, beneath her blue and white flowered sundress and I felt moisture on her thighs. She hadn’t worn a bra, either and her nipples strained against the cotton fabric – two ripe red berries beneath blue print flowers yearning to be sucked and stroked.

“Mmmm, you’re already so wet,” I whispered.

She returned the favor, tracing the head of my swollen dick with her red nails and squeezing its fat girth with her small hand. I squirmed and felt some pre-cum squirt out, making a small, dark spot on my faded blue jeans.

“And you’re so hard. I can’t wait to feel you in me and in my mouth,” she said.
That did it. I threw a couple 20s on the table, more than enough for a generous tip and we bolted to the parking garage and her car.
Markio never even got the key in the ignition before we fell on each other like animals, oblivious to other Crown Center patrons coming and going, car doors slamming and engines humming and coughing.

I slid the spaghetti straps from her sun freckled, white soft shoulders and suckled her swollen bare breasts, concentrating on just the nipples, nipping the bright juicy hardness with staccato bites.

Heat flooded down both our spines and she gasped, exhaling hard and baring her long, white throat for me to lick and nuzzle. She parted her legs almost obscenely and I thrust my hand between them, sliding between the delicious folds and silky black hair with three fingers while using my thumb to knead her erasure hard clit.

Her hips jumped suddenly from the driver’s seat and she began pumping herself up and down on my stiffened hand and wrist, her breasts bouncing and swaying slightly, her head thrown back, eyes closed and swollen, lipstick smeared lips agape as her uneven pants and moans grew more urgent.

She was nearly singing now – a carnal pagan hymn to Eros. “Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God, Ummmmm! Don’t stop, don’t stop, please omygawd, yes, yes, harder, harder!”

I worked my hand and thumb into a probing rhythm, feeling her juices spill down my wrist as she pumped up and down fiercely, demanding more.


“Use me,” hissed, before savagely kissing her, feeling her suck my tongue out of my mouth. She loved talking dirty and fell into our nasty groove immediately, hips thrusting and twisting, pussy squirting like a faucet.

“Oh yes, fuck me. Ummmm…..god….yes! I need it, Auuggghh!”

I could feel the car shaking with her heaving, heated body. The side windows were partially fogged and this was late May. We were oblivious to whatever other Crown Center patrons might think or see, bent only on our mutual heat.

Mariko suddenly stiffened on my hand and fingers and screamed suddenly, an unearthly sound, quickly quelled when I jammed my other hand in her mouth and felt her teeth bite down hard.

Quiet. Nothing but our panting and the smell of sex filling the small Pontiac Firebird.

“Your turn,” she said bending down to unzip me.
Her hair fell on my thighs, a soft counterpart to the feel of her lips enveloping my cock. She could deep throat but had refused to say how she had learned it or if it came naturally. “I learned it in the circus,” Mariko had once said, laughing during our first afternoon in bed.

I jammed my legs hard against the car floor and flipped the seat lever going as horizontal as I could as she hungrily slathered my rod with her tongue and lips and throat, moaning when she came up for air.

It was then that I looked through the windshield noticed a security camera about 7 feet above the floor of the garage. It was on a swivel and I recalled vaguely that earlier it had been pointed to the side of our car. Now it was pointed directly at the windshield.

“Marko, I think we’ve got an audience,” I said as her head bobbed relentlessly between my legs. “The security camera….”

She withdrew for a moment, brushed her disheveled hair from her face and looked out the window at the camera, waved “hello” and giggled.

“I want them to watch. I want them to know how good your cock tastes. What a good little cocksucker I am. How big your cock is and how much I like sucking it.”

“Oh, yes!” I moaned. “Please. Give them a show!”

“Spread your legs more!” she spat out.

I compiled and she began tickling with my balls with her nails and jabbing a finger into my ass as her mouth worked overtime. I fell back, oblivious to nothing but the pleasure she was giving me.

It didn’t take long, especially as I raised my ass and allowed her to find my prostate as she continued swallowing.

“Oh shit! Oh god…Oh Mariko…oh…!” My cum shot out as my soul seemed to leave my body. Her mouth never left my cock as the hot spurts kept pumping and her finger kept probing.

She finally withdrew, her red, smeared lips white with my juice, some dribbling down her chin and a trace trickling down her throat. We kissed, smearing each other with my cum and our sweat.

This was nearly 10 years ago, but I still wonder if that videotape is somewhere in a "secret" file in the Crown Center security offices. I hope it gives the staff as much pleasure as it gave us.

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