He had booked us into a suite at the So Sofitel in St. Petersburg. I was not surprised he had picked one of the premier spots in town for our stay. Sure, he had to get some work done, but there was plenty of time for play. The kick he added was to have Saint Isaac’s cathedral looking right into our room. Up on the 8th floor, there was a clear view of Saint Petersburg’s most famous cathedral.

Sex, in whichever form, was going to happen in full view of the Cathedral. The rain did little to diminish the feeling of being observed. He has always been an exhibitionist. Or better put, one of his kinks had always to humiliate me by putting me on display, shamelessly, provocatively. That the Cathedral now serves only as a museum did little to distract from its Russian Orthodox roots.

“You stand by the window until I’m done with a few work emails.” I enjoyed the view, the rain running down the floor to ceiling windows. “And I want to see you masturbate while you look at St. Isaac’s.”

I had masturbated in front of him before, usually with one of my toys. More often than not, he took over before I could come. I had no reason to believe that this time was going to be any different. It felt different, though. Looking at the cathedral, the rain outside, the traffic below and the lights on in our room. All elements that added to the excitement, but also discomfort of being on public display as I masturbate, with nothing but the church looking down on me.

“You can leave the blouse on, the rest of the world doesn’t have to how much of a slut you are.” His tone was degrading. Dismissive. But I did as I was told. The black latex blouse was tight and reflected the light coming from the room. It was almost more attention grabbing than had I been stark naked. I was partially dressed, and yet felt more naked than ever.

The cathedral. I just couldn’t get it out of my head. I’m not religious and it isn’t even a cathedral anymore. Still, it brought up old guilt feelings from my strict catholic up-bringing. Masturbation is wrong. Sex is wrong. Being with another man is wrong. Just everything I did was going against the values my parents tried to instill in me.

“Get the fuck moving, you fucking cunt!” His tone was different. Harsh. We had a talk earlier where he made it clear to me that he wanted me to be his paid whore. He didn’t have to care about my feelings. And accepting his money, I felt that I couldn’t say no when all he did was watch me.

Pressing against the window, I reached down to my cleanly shaven pussy. I was already dripping wet. The way he treated me turned me on. My head told me how wrong this was, but my body reacted differently. My fingers quickly found the right spots to get off. I didn’t want to be exposed to the public longer than I had to. The time pressure, the cathedral, all added to the excitement my body felt.

Two fingers inside my pussy, looking for my G-spot, and my thumb on my clit, pushing the ample skin from my labia and clit hood aside. Both are large from years of stretching them. I like the look of my pussy hanging down between my spread legs.

The cathedral was still in my head. My G-spot was in its familiar place. Just slightly to the left, just inside my pussy on the upper wall. I could feel the muscles. My mind began to focus on my cunt, now I wanted to be his whore, his slut. Yes, it was wrong, but there was a reason I rejected my parents upbringing. Fucking when everything around me is wrong got me going in a hurry.

The rubbing on my clit got faster. I could feel the orgasm building, knowing that anyone on the street could watch me. Being up on the 8th floor, though, made that less likely. Still, the excitement of being watched by strangers was not diminished.

“I’m done. You have another 60 seconds to get off, or you’ll have to stop and we take it outside.” Shit, I’m close, but not that close. It was freezing outside. He couldn’t be serious. His voice told me otherwise.

I hurried up, sweat was running down my body, my G-spot was first to react and build up toward the orgasm I so desperately needed. Shit, now the cathedral was in my head again. Get out of my head!

“30 seconds”.

Come on, you’re good at this. I’ve always been able to come on command. Never missed a countdown. I was getting really close and my clit now was aching to come as well.

“15 seconds”

Here we go. Finally, I could feel it deep inside my pussy, the muscles were responding, it was building, I pressed against the window, not a care about the people below. Yes, I am a slut, a dirty cunt, a whore. My fingers pushed deeper and harder against my G-spot, forcing my pussy to strain against my hand.

Then it came, finally, my entire thigh muscles ripples as my pussy exploded and I sank to the ground. Still rubbing my clit, he pulled my hand out of my pussy and inserted his moist warm fingers inside to keep my orgasm going. He could feel the contractions in my pussy. He always demanded proof I was not faking it. I never did.

“Zero.”

Good slut.

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