Through the Windowpanes

Through the Windowpanes

Allelujah had been dripping chlore-water from the swimming pool all over Wang Liu Mei’s expensive carpets when he’d snuck up on her and wrapped his cold arms around her waist. Sumeragi remembered jumping in shock at that, and gasping when he roughly shoved her up against the window she’d been gazing through in between kisses to her neck.

She imagined that by now, steam was rising from his heated body.

He had moved the crotch of her bathing suit aside and penetrated her without warning or preparation, the only thing to ease his entry the dampness left over from his recently discareded swimming trunks. Apparently, the pool had done nothing to cool him down from their drawn out lovemaking earlier that morning.

It had been painful at first, and the way he chuckled at her protests had sent chills down her spine, but they hadn’t necessarily been bad shivers, Sumeragi decided, looking back. When he lifted her breasts from their confines, exposing them to the cold glass, and dipped his fingers into the front of her bathing suit up till the elbow, her unease melted away like snow in the sun.

They were panting in tandem, he thrusting in and out of her with almost careless abandon, she trying half-heartedly to focus on syncing with his movements through the maddening combination of icy glass and heated skin. Her breasts shoved jarringly against the windowpane whenever Allelujah gave an extra vigorous push, his fingers played her clit expertly, and kisses and playful bites rained down on her bare shoulders.

Sumeragi felt herself beginning to reach the point of orgasm when Allelujah suddenly spoke, in a husky, breathless voice. “Look down.”

All Sumeragi wanted to do was close her eyes and press back into him and stop thinking. But she forced her heavy eyes open and looked down. The orgasm was like an explosion, hit home like a tidal wave, knocking her legs out from under her.

Lockon, Lichtendahl, Christina and Felt were down by the pool, right underneath their window.

Breathing rapidly, Sumeragi forced her muscles to work through the extasy and tried to push off from the window, but Allelujah laughed and pushed her against the glass even more tightly, his chest flush against her back and his chin resting against her shoulder as he slammed his cock in and out of her.

The sudden rush of adrenalin, the aftermath of her orgasm, Allelujah’s body, the cold glass - it made the thick length of his erection and the pressure of his fingers unbearable, and she felt herself coming a second time, infinitely more intense than before, her eyes glued to the oblivious people below her while Allelujah shoved against her, into her, like he wanted to push her exposed body through the glass altogether.

She couldn’t breath. Allelujah pumped again once, twice, three times before stiffening, shuddering, then going limp. They landed in a heap on the damp carpet.

The first thing Sumeragi saw when she came to her senses was Allelujah’s face above her. He blinked groggily and shook his head, his disheveled hair shifting from one side of his face to another. Suddenly looking very sheepish, he rolled off of her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t scare you too much, did I? Nobody looked up, I promise.”

“I’m not sure whether to tell you never to do that again or confess how incredibly good that was.”