Sunday, December 19, 2004
You continue to trace the garter along my thigh, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stay quiet. you smile, and tell me that you think this one will do nicely. I think this means I'm getting off easy, and I try to slip back into my dress. "Oh, no," you say. "We still have a couple of things to try on."
I put on the second black one, and you have me turn around a couple of times before you reach for me. You touch the lace, and then you slide your hand down, rubbing me and then slipping one finger inside me. I reach for you, and you pull me close. We stand like this, you rubbing and teasing and filling me in turn, as my knees turn to jello and I attempt, without much success, to keep from moaning with pleasure. I love the way you touch me, and you are taking advantage of the fact that you know exactly where to go to get the reaction you want at any given time.
We hold one another long enough that the staff come by to see if we are okay. You reassure them, (I am far too embarrassed to speak at this point.) and we move on to the third item. The white one. I tell you that white is just not my color, that I have never believed I looked good in it, and that I had, in fact, had that opinion reinforced by statements from others. You remind me that it isn't other people's opinions I have to worry about, and that you haven't made a determination about the way I look in white yet. You'll let me know.
You fasten the white one around my hips, and spin me around so you can get a good look. "Not enough contrast." you say, and it comes back off and goes onto the hanger to be returned to the rack.
Finally, I get dressed and we leave the curtained area. You shoo me off to look at something while you go to the counter. In a few minutes, you come up behind me and grab me around the waist. I jump, just a little, and you laugh.
You hand me a huge bag, and tell me that I'm not to look inside. You do like to torment me with things like this. And believe me, it works. We leave the store and you lead me in the direction of a restaurant. When we are seated, you order a salad and some grilled chicken for me and the same for yourself. We eat, and talk, and I try to convince you to allow me to look inside the bag, or at least to give me a hint about what is in there. You decline, saying that I will find out soon enough.
After dinner we venture out into the parking lot. The rain has stopped, but the wind is as fierce as ever, and soon my dress is flying again. This time you allow me to move a bit faster, and I am only exposed for a few minutes before we get back to the truck.
We go directly back to the room, and you lock the door behind us. I am already peeling off my dress before you turn around. We fall into bed, and I start to kiss you. I start with your face, and work my way down to your throat, your shoulders, your chest. I lick and suck your nipples, and you push my head down toward your cock. I take it into my mouth, and sigh contentedly. I could do this forever, and you know it. I lick and suck and kiss you for a few minutes, while you explore my body with your fingers, and then you decide it is time for something completely different.
You spin me around, and pull me up to my knees. You enter me from behind, pulling my hips close to you as you fuck me hard and fast. I bury my face in the mattress, so you can barely hear me asking for more. But you know what I want, and you give it to me. Long and hard, fast and rough, you fill me over and over. When I feel that you are getting ready to cum, I ask if you will cum in my mouth, because I want to taste the two of us together. You smile, and we move into position. You allow me to slip your cock into my mouth, and then you fill my throat with your cum and my juices. I clean you off with my tongue, and we move into each other's arms.
I appreciate the fact that you want to hold me until I fall asleep, but I know that you are not comfortable falling asleep that way, so I suggest that you curl up on your side and get comfortable. I slip one arm under your neck, and the other around your waist. You hold my hand and I snuggle up next to your back and kiss the top of your shoulder. I put my head on the pillow, your scent in my nose, the taste of your cum on my lips, and we drift off together.
The phone rings. I open my eyes, and you're gone. I reach for the phone, and answer it. "Hello."
You say, "What the hell happened to you? You were supposed to be online an hour ago. Did you just get in to the room and collapse, or something? Were you even awake long enough to eat last night?"
I look over at the counter, and there are my bag of pretzels and Diet Dr. Pepper, unopened.
I put on the second black one, and you have me turn around a couple of times before you reach for me. You touch the lace, and then you slide your hand down, rubbing me and then slipping one finger inside me. I reach for you, and you pull me close. We stand like this, you rubbing and teasing and filling me in turn, as my knees turn to jello and I attempt, without much success, to keep from moaning with pleasure. I love the way you touch me, and you are taking advantage of the fact that you know exactly where to go to get the reaction you want at any given time.
We hold one another long enough that the staff come by to see if we are okay. You reassure them, (I am far too embarrassed to speak at this point.) and we move on to the third item. The white one. I tell you that white is just not my color, that I have never believed I looked good in it, and that I had, in fact, had that opinion reinforced by statements from others. You remind me that it isn't other people's opinions I have to worry about, and that you haven't made a determination about the way I look in white yet. You'll let me know.
You fasten the white one around my hips, and spin me around so you can get a good look. "Not enough contrast." you say, and it comes back off and goes onto the hanger to be returned to the rack.
Finally, I get dressed and we leave the curtained area. You shoo me off to look at something while you go to the counter. In a few minutes, you come up behind me and grab me around the waist. I jump, just a little, and you laugh.
You hand me a huge bag, and tell me that I'm not to look inside. You do like to torment me with things like this. And believe me, it works. We leave the store and you lead me in the direction of a restaurant. When we are seated, you order a salad and some grilled chicken for me and the same for yourself. We eat, and talk, and I try to convince you to allow me to look inside the bag, or at least to give me a hint about what is in there. You decline, saying that I will find out soon enough.
After dinner we venture out into the parking lot. The rain has stopped, but the wind is as fierce as ever, and soon my dress is flying again. This time you allow me to move a bit faster, and I am only exposed for a few minutes before we get back to the truck.
We go directly back to the room, and you lock the door behind us. I am already peeling off my dress before you turn around. We fall into bed, and I start to kiss you. I start with your face, and work my way down to your throat, your shoulders, your chest. I lick and suck your nipples, and you push my head down toward your cock. I take it into my mouth, and sigh contentedly. I could do this forever, and you know it. I lick and suck and kiss you for a few minutes, while you explore my body with your fingers, and then you decide it is time for something completely different.
You spin me around, and pull me up to my knees. You enter me from behind, pulling my hips close to you as you fuck me hard and fast. I bury my face in the mattress, so you can barely hear me asking for more. But you know what I want, and you give it to me. Long and hard, fast and rough, you fill me over and over. When I feel that you are getting ready to cum, I ask if you will cum in my mouth, because I want to taste the two of us together. You smile, and we move into position. You allow me to slip your cock into my mouth, and then you fill my throat with your cum and my juices. I clean you off with my tongue, and we move into each other's arms.
I appreciate the fact that you want to hold me until I fall asleep, but I know that you are not comfortable falling asleep that way, so I suggest that you curl up on your side and get comfortable. I slip one arm under your neck, and the other around your waist. You hold my hand and I snuggle up next to your back and kiss the top of your shoulder. I put my head on the pillow, your scent in my nose, the taste of your cum on my lips, and we drift off together.
The phone rings. I open my eyes, and you're gone. I reach for the phone, and answer it. "Hello."
You say, "What the hell happened to you? You were supposed to be online an hour ago. Did you just get in to the room and collapse, or something? Were you even awake long enough to eat last night?"
I look over at the counter, and there are my bag of pretzels and Diet Dr. Pepper, unopened.
