The brick wall felt rough against the palms of my hands...

I splayed my fingers out for a better grip and moved the other hand to the wood next to me as I felt the sweat roll down the middle of my arched back. My nipples just barely grazed the wall with each thrust, an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. All I could hear was our mixed breathing, my heartbeat and the clinking bottles.

Ah, yes, the beautiful bottles of wine held in this cellar, some of which were in the wooden wine box I was using as leverage. We'd managed to sneak away from the rest of the tour group and found ourselves there in the corner just below the window that provided the only light source in the otherwise shadowed room. It was absolutely thrilling.

His face was suddenly pressed against the side of mine and I arched my back more to ensure he stayed buried deep within me. Each thrust told me how much he wanted me, how much fun this was, how grateful he was to be mine. Feeling that delicious pressure as he pushed me open with his rigid member, those lines and ridges I knew so intimately bringing forth a whole new wave of lustfulness. I trembled, thankful for his grip around my waist to keep me from falling.

When he growled the admission, "I feel it...I feel my balls tingling," I pushed back on him so I had room to turn around and got onto my knees, taking him between my lips. I kept my head moving up and down his shaft, re-imagining the feeling his sweat-slicked skin, the heat of him... I had to touch myself, I had to tip over the edge with him. I reached below my dress, my fingers flying over my clit. We made eye contact the moment before I felt all of his raw desire pour into me, swallowing to minimize the clean up, despite my release ending up on the floor.

I stood and zipped him up, smoothed my dress and hair and wiped the sweat from his brow, both of us smiling and giggling. We hurried back to join the others, but not before we shared a kiss that was sweeter than any of the wines we tasted that day.