Having Kya - The 3rd Day

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Please read the following before reading this story:

1. Having Kya

2. Having Kya - Later That Night

3. Having Kya - The 2nd Day

Today was a fun, carefree day. Kya and I continued our exploration of town and discovered so many interesting shops, we didn't have enough time yesterday to visit them all. So this time, we got an early start this morning.

Kya is so free spirited. There's something about her that has me tangled and entranced. One moment, she's an enthusiastic little girl, wanting to stop and look at and see everything. Like a little girl at a toy store or an amusement park. Kya's curiosity is so pure and genuine. Yet at the flip of a switch, she transforms into a beautiful erotic woman who is in tune with her feelings and desires. A woman who can be a sensuous predator that herds its prey to her feeding ground. Or she can change into a beautiful doe moving across an open field knowing those who see her marvel at her erotic grace. Or she can become the prey who is caught in a trap, knowingly accepting her fate of being fed upon mercilessly.

Spending time with her, I felt like her protector. I felt like an admirer. I felt like her lover. I felt like her prey. And I have felt like her master to some degree.

After spending the whole day out, we returned to our hotel to recuperate and rest before considering what we were going to do for dinner. The door to our opulent hotel suite clicked shut behind us. The dimly lit room had been cleaned up by housekeeping. It was early evening. Kya turned on more lights to fully illuminate the living room.

I collapsed onto the sofa in the living room area of our suite. The curtains open. Looking out the full-length window, I could see out onto the walkway outside of our suite. These indoor hotels were so interesting. The rooms faced inward as they occupied the outer perimeter of the building. In the center, there was a smorgasbord of activity. You could get any kind of meal at the bar and grill located in the center. There was a dance floor and cocktail tables for evening parties and socializing. There was even a section where one could sit away from the loud music and catch a bit of peace and quiet. I could see many of the hotel residents walking around outside in the center quad. Since we were on the 1st floor, many people could walk by our room.

I turned on the TV and started flipping through channels as Kya disappeared into the bedroom and into the bathroom. Most likely to freshen up a bit. Another Marvel Cinematic Universe movie was on. It looked like Guardians of the Galaxy. Or maybe Avengers Infinity War? I was kind of unsure.

Kya let out a sultry giggle that got my attention. Her full lips curled into a knowing smile as she walked gracefully over to the large window, her hips swaying hypnotically with each step. She made sure that the thick velvet curtains hung open.

My eyes never left her, and I felt my pulse quicken. Kya had that adventuress expression on her face. I watched as she unbuttoned her blouse with deliberate slowness, just enough to reveal her soft modest cleavage and portions of her soft, creamy breasts. She had removed her bra. She had taken off her pants. Her long shirt kept her covered below. Her brown skin glowed in the soft light of our hotel living room. Her long black hair, dyed in dark red cascaded down her back like a dark waterfall, a stark contrast to the stark white walls of the suite.

Kya looked at me with a glint in her eye that could only be described as mischief incarnate.

"Lie down," she purred.

My body was already responding to her command. I complied eagerly. The plush couch swallowed me up. I quickly grabbed one of the cushions on the couch and placed it behind my head to serve as a pillow. My eyes never left hers as she approached, the fabric of her shirt whispering against her thighs. She straddled me, her warmth pressing against my jeans. She leaned in and kissed me deeply. Her tongue explored my mouth with a hunger that matched the throb in my loins.

The back of the couch faced the window. It was high enough to keep me hidden from view of passersby. Kya knelt on me. her fingers tracing the line of my jaw before she began to unbuckle pants. Her movements were deliberate, teasing, and slow. The zipper of my jeans seemed louder than the rush of blood in my ears.

"I've been craving this," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. "For so long, I've wanted to do this with you."

"What do you mean, sweetie?" I asked curiously as my arousal ballooned.

"Have you heard of exhibitionism?" she asked.

"You mean like doing stuff while people can watch or see?" I asked. "Ummm... I've never thought about it. I'm kinda insecure about people seeing me like that. Do you like doing that?"

"Not to that extreme." Kya said softly. "I like to have people see the look of pleasure and satisfaction that I have on my face as I give someone pleasure. But I'm not into people seeing me cum or anything like that. I don't want people to see me naked. But I do get excited about teasing people with my body."

"Is that why you got the curtain open, and our lights turned on?" I asked in realization.

"Mhm." she nodded. "But we'll let our sofa conceal what I'm doing to you so that you can't be seen."

"You sure you want to do this Ky?" I asked feeling a little nervous. But my arousal is now full attention.

"Yes, my love." she replied as though she was asking for permission.

I felt my manhood twitch in response to her words.

"Go ahead..." I murmured.

"Yes, Sir," she responded, her voice dripping with a submissive sweetness that made my blood boil.

With a flick of her wrist, she freed me from his constraints. My erection stood proudly, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. Kya's eyes widened in appreciation.

"You're giving me precum already." she whispered, a hint of awe in her voice.

Kya made sure that I am hidden from view. Her submissive tone heightened my arousal. Her nimble fingers danced along the length of my shaft, her touch feather-light. But she wasn't done teasing yet. With a wicked smile, she straddled me, her knees pressing into the cushions on either side of my legs. The angle was perfect. Any onlooker strolling past their suite would see her, but not me--hidden by the couch's high back.

Kya leaned in, her breasts brushing against my chest as she took my cock in her hand. She began to stroke me, her hand moving up and down in a mesmerizing rhythm that made my head spin. Her thumb swirled over the sensitive tip, collecting my precum, and smearing it along my length. The sensation was a delicate blend of pleasure and torment. I reached out, my hands finding her hips, urging her closer, my fingers digging into her soft flesh.

My moan filled the room, a guttural sound that seemed to echo off the walls. Yet, despite my vocal outpouring, the thick, windows of our hotel room remained stoic guardians of our intimate secret. The hotel corridor outside continued its steady flow of guests, oblivious to the erotic tableau playing out mere feet away. They could see Kya's silhouette through the glass, but the couch's high back shielded me from view.

Kya's eyes gleamed with a sexy determination as she stroked me with a little more fervor. Her hand moved up and down my shaft, each pass eliciting another drop of precum that glistened in the dim light. She leaned in closer, her breath hot on his skin, her teeth grazing his neck as she whispered.

"Do you like that babe?" Her voice was a seductive purr, "Do you like feeling my tiny submissive hand on you?"

"Yes...." I murmured.

Her smile grew more passionate. I could feel the heat of her body on me. Kya's soft, warm breaths match the rhythm of her hand. My hips began to move involuntarily, matching her every stroke. She remained in control, her grip firm yet tender. The sound of my moans grew louder, filling the room. Kya loved hearing me moan. The look on her face was that of recognition and pure eroticism. And she knew that any person(s) strolling by our window glanced in, they would feel a shiver of curiosity. They would see her, her back arched, her breasts heaving through her unbuttoned shirt. They would see that with each breath she took; her expression was one of pure, unbridled lust.

But they wouldn't see me. They wouldn't see the intimacy of her strokes on me. They would only see her arm moving in a slow methodical motion. It would be a silent testament to the erotic show playing out on the other side of the glass.

My eyes glanced first at her small delicate hand firmly gripping me like she owned me. And then back to her beautiful, sensuous face. Her lips were slightly parted as her eyes gleamed in satisfaction as more precum came from me. I was a willing victim. Trapped and held without any resistance.

As Kya's hand worked its magic, a young couple, arm in arm, paused at our window, the woman's gaze transfixed by the erotic scene. Her partner, a tall, lanky man with a mop of blonde hair, followed her gaze, his eyes widening in shock. Even though they could only see Kya, they could ascertain what it was she was doing. They both walked away.

"People can see me....," Kya murmured.

She continued to stroke me in a gentle, method rhythm. My hips continued to move at her pace.

"Ohh... Ky..." I moaned with desire. "Your hand...."

She nodded acknowledging my compliment.

"Sometimes," she cooed. "A handjob can be an even more wonderful experience than a blowjob."

All I could do was watch her and listen to her beautiful voice.

"It's all about the connection," Kya continued, her eyes never leaving mine, "about feeling you, really feeling you, in every way possible. When I do this, I can feel every pulse, every throb of your need. It's like we're connected, skin to soul. With a blowjob, it's all about me pleasing you, serving you. But a handjob, it's about us. It's about the way we move together, the way my hand becomes an extension of your body. When I give a blowjob, it's a performance, a dance of my mouth and tongue. But a handjob, it's about the chemistry between us. It's about knowing your body so well that I can read every twitch, every gasp, every shiver."

Kya's hand continued to slide up and down, her movements precise. My hips kept moving. My body strained for more, but she held firm, her rhythm unchanging.

An older gentleman, a distinguished silver fox with a well-tailored suit, couldn't help but stop in his tracks. His eyes took in the sight of Kya's beautiful profile. Teasing enough of her breast yet not exposing all of it. The vision held his attention as she saw her arm move with slow, deliberate strokes. Kya looked in his direction and grinned with a knowing sexy smile at him. He adjusted his glasses, suddenly realizing what she was doing. He quickly walked away, flushed like he had been caught watching something that he should not have been watching.

Her eyes, gleaming with desire, searched my face. "Do you like it, Ron?" she asked, her hand never stopping its heavenly torture. "Do you feel the difference?"

"Yes..." was all I could strain out.

"It's not just about getting you off," she said, her voice low and intimate, "it's about connecting with you on a deeper level. When I give you a handjob, I'm not just touching your body, I'm touching your soul."

Kya's hand continued its sweet torment, her grip tightening and loosening with the same mesmerizing rhythm. She watched my face, the way my eyes were glazed with pleasure, the way my mouth parted as I moaned and groaned with each stroke of her beautiful delicate hand. And she felt a thrill of power, of connection.

"When I give you a blowjob," Kya said, her voice a sultry whisper, "it's like I'm telling you a secret that only you can hear, my mouth too busy to speak. But a handjob," she paused, her hand tightening around me for emphasis, "I can look at you, see the way your eyes glaze over, feel the tension in your body as you get closer to the edge. And we can interact with each other. It can be more intimate. It can be more emotional. And it oftentimes, hotter."

Her hand moved with grace. My eyes were riveted to her, my chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as I tried to understand the depth of what she was telling me. The words barely registered in my mind; my world was narrowing down to the heavenly friction of Kya's hand on me. Her touch a masterful blend of passion and finesse. Yet, somewhere in the periphery of my consciousness, I was aware of the audience that kept walking by even though I couldn't see them. The thrill of Kya being watched, the knowledge that strangers were witnessing this most intimate moment, only served to fan the flames of my desire.

Kya whispered, "Look at you, Ron. You're loving this."

I groaned, my eyes glued on to her face.

"They can't see me," I managed to choke out.

"They can see me," Kya whispered, her breath hot. "They can see every drop of desire I have for you." Her voice grew softer, almost a purr. "They can see the way I want you, the way I need you."

My moans grew more as her hand tightened around my shaft, her strokes slowly growing more intense. I could feel my orgasm building, ready to unleash. I gasped, my hips reaching upward, trying to meet her hand, to speed her up. But Kya slowed her pace, her hand gliding over me with the grace of a ballerina, each stroke a caress that drew out the agony. Her eyes gleamed with the thrill of her power over me, her lips curving in a smile that was both innocent and diabolical.

More people walked by. Some do not notice anything. Others glancing and then moving on about their business. And then there were those small few who noticed, stopped for a moment to look intently at what was going on. And then quickly walked off like they had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Kya's smile grew wider as she felt the pulse of me in her hand, the veins standing out, begging for the sweet release. The look of eroticism on her face as she basked in the power she had over me. The control she wielded with such ease. Her hand, slick with my precum, moved with a tantalizing slowness. Keeping me just out of reach. My orgasm was right there. Ready to go. But Kya's pace was slow. Denying me take off. Refusing to let me fly. I moaned, the sound a desperate plea that she alone could understand. Suddenly, my hips shot up, lifting her up briefly from the sofa. My body rigid with the first tremors of an impending orgasm. I stared up at Kya. But her incredible fingers held me on the precipice. She had control of my very soul. Kya's eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

A housekeeper pushing a cart paused, her eyes wide, before she quickly moved on, a blush staining her cheeks. Unsure if what she saw translated to what she suspected. Kya's hand never faltered. Her eyes never leave my gaze.

"Oh my god, Kya," I moaned.

The precum flowed like a river.

"It won't stop," I whispered, my voice hoarse with lust. "It keeps coming out for you."

Kya's eyes never left mine, a silent challenge in their depths. "Not until I say so," she murmured.

My body was a maelstrom of sensation, every nerve ending singing with pleasure she orchestrated. The slow, torturous strokes of her hand had me writhing on the couch, my hips rising to meet her touch, my cock swelling and pulsing in time with my racing heart. The pressure building, the inevitable climax that hovered above me.

And then I came. Or so I thought. My orgasm was in full explosion. But Kya had gripped me so tight that even though I was convulsing, nothing was ejaculating from me. I was in pleasure and agony at the same time. Suddenly, my hips, driven by instinct and desire, thrusted upwards with massive strength and force. So much that I lifted Kya into the air and my manhood slipped out from the protection of the backside of the couch and into plain view. Kya gasped, her eyes widening in surprise, but she didn't stop. If anything, the realization that we were now truly on display only added to her excitement. She leaned back, her hand never pausing, her gaze locked onto the hallway. Luckily, no one saw my manhood. But I was right in the middle of an orgasm. I thrusted my hips high in desperation. Trying to shoot out my cum. But Kya gripped me firmly. She stopped my cum from exiting out of me. I moaned and yelled in pleasure. My muscles convulsing and straining desperately to ejaculate. Yet I was grunting out of frustration because Kya's firm fingers prevented me from completion. I was entranced and astonished that her tiny delicate hand could hold me in place the way it did.

Kya grinned and cooed "Mmmmmmmmm....!"

"AAaaahhhh... UUUUUUuuuuhhh.." I grunted realizing that there would be no completion at this point.

Kya looked over at the window and saw two men stop in their tracks. Seeing her look sexy in her unbuttoned shirt and puckering her lips at me and then acknowledging their presence at the window with a knowing grin that said:

"You wish it was you that I was doing this to."

My dry orgasm subsided. I was gasping, trying to catch my breath. Not because I couldn't breathe, but because I needed to climax. My voice a ragged plea that filled the room.

"Kya," I groaned, my hips bucking upwards. "Please, sweetie, I need it."

"Yes, my love." she said tenderly. "I didn't do that to torture you."

And then, as if on cue, the rhythm of her hand began anew. My body arched off the couch, my hips bucking upward, my manhood straining towards the heavens. Kya adjusted her position higher so that she would sit on my thighs. She was using her weight to try and keep me in place and protect my privates from being exposed to the world.

A lone man, wearing a business suit stopped and watched Kya. He was entranced by her sexy sensuality. Even though he could see nothing of me, he could tell what was going on. And now, it was as though he was watching a tightrope walker take their final steps. Kya paid him no mind.

"I did that so that you when you do cum, it will be well worth it." she said. "I love you so much Ron... I will never torture you. I want to give you my best because you make me want to love you."

Kya loosened her tight grip on my throbbing shaft. Each stroke of her hand leading me closer. She never took her eyes off me. And I was glued to her. Trapped.

"Mmmmm." Kya whispered with a sultry purr. She glanced over at the window at the man watching. "Look at him. He's watching me give it to you Ron. He wants to see you cum for me even though he can't see it. He's looking around, making sure no one sees him watching us."

My cock pulsed with each frustrated beat of Kya's stroking.

"Ky..." I groaned, his voice a desperate rasp.

Kya's hand moved with more urgency, each stroke leading me to the point of no return. My hips thrust upwards, my cock straining towards her hand like a plant seeking the sun.

"Oh god, Kya," he groaned, "I'm going to cum...."

Kya kept up the same pace. She loosened her grip just enough knowing that nothing was going to stop me from ejaculating in a mad rush.

"Yes, my love." she assured me in a submissive voice.

Her hand continued at the same pace and firmness. Just by feeling her touch, I knew that nothing was going to stop me from ejaculating this time. I moaned loudly through our hotel room. My voice getting louder as my orgasm began its final run. Her next words were in a submissive sexy utterance. A request that resonated through my body like a gong.

"Cum in your little wife's hand now," she whispered, "Shoot it so he can see it fly."

The phrase, so simple, so loaded with meaning, sent a jolt of electricity through me. And then, with a final, exquisite touch, she sent me soaring. My orgasm hit me like a meteor, a fiery explosion of pleasure that seemed to shake the very foundation of my being. My body arched but Kya was able to hold me in place on the couch as ropes of cum shot from me. The first spurt hit on Kya's chin, the second painting her neck and cleavage with sticky white lines, and the third shot high, only to land on the floor with a wet splatter. The rest went all over her shirt. Coloring it creamy white silk. Kya's eyes never left mine, her smile one of pure, satisfaction as she watched me come undone. She had done this, she had brought me to this pinnacle of pleasure, and the power of it was a rush that filled her with a sense of exhilaration. Her hand continued to move, milking me through my climax, her strokes slowing to match the rhythm of my pulsing cock. My spasm continued on and on as though it was her hand that kept it going and going and going.

"Oh baby..." she said in a sexy submissive tone.

I was done.

Kya leaned back, her hand slipping away from my shaft with a wet sound. With a sudden, deliberate move, she stood up, her legs shaken. Like they were numb from the way she was straddling me. She wiped my semen from her chin and walked over to the curtain where the one observer had been watching. The look of astonishment in his eyes confirming what he had just witnessed. Kya's cleavage was dripping from my cum. Her shirt stained as well. She stood for a second in front of the man at the window and looked down at her soaked shirt and chest. Glancing back up at him, their eyes met for a moment. And she held him in her gaze like a cobra that was entranced. She smirked slightly and then shut the curtains.

We cleaned up and had dinner. It was a delicious meal. We laughed together. We took a walk outside and strolled together arm in arm. She was like a little girl clinging close to me, her guardian. And I loved every moment of it.

That night, I watched her sleep. Her breathing was calm as she faced me while lying on her right side. Kya had taken me on adventure that I had never thought I would participate in before. Yet there was something that kept gnawing at me. I was curious about the experiences that molded her being. As I pondered more about it, the more fear started to grow within me. I would not change her for anything. I am in love with her. But I was afraid, and I didn't know why.

My computer beeped. It was my work email notification. I hate it when people from work send me email even though they know I'm on vacation. I decided I'll check it tomorrow.

I put my left arm over Kya softly. She muttered something incoherent in her sleep but instinctively held my hand. Sleep came easy.