Friday, January 14, 2005
I go through the door, and take a quick look around. A fire in the fireplace, a table set for two, an assortment of items that look enticing. All I can say is, "Wow! You really are amazing."
You have obviously put a lot of effort into this. I can smell something wonderful in the kitchen, and next to the table is an ice bucket, filled with something other than champagne. (Thank you for remembering what I drink.)
You take me on the grand tour, showing me the living area, the kitchen, the bathroom, and last, the bedroom. My suitcase is there, as is another array of toys. It looks as though you have plans for both the living room and the bedroom. I start to ask you how long before dinner burns, but you interrupt me with a kiss, one hand on my back and the other making a pattern on the inside of my thigh, driving me crazy.
You tug on the back of my blouse and say, "Off." You resume kissing me and I murmur "Yes, sir" into your mouth as I fumble with the buttons, unwilling to pull back far enough to unbutton them easily. And you don't make it easy to concentrate on the task at hand, do you? Running those fingers along my thigh, reaching higher underneath my skirt, almost touching my cunt. Almost. Teasing me, as I remove my blouse. You open my bra with one hand, a skill you learned long ago and have obviously continued to use on a regular basis. You're good... one quick motion, and it falls away, hanging from my shoulders.
You move the hand that isn't driving me mad to my breast. You cup it, caressing it, slowly increasing the pressure as you move your fingers closer to the nipple. You run one finger across it, making it even harder than the hand between my legs had made it. You rub it with one finger, then two, pinching softly at first, then harder, while I begin to moan "Please, oh please" while you continue increasing the pressure on the nipple, making me want you more and more until I'm begging you just to be inside me. Fingers, cock, anything as long as it is you and I feel you inside me.
I hear a buzzer in the distance. I don't know how long the sound has been there, but you hear it too. You take your hand from my breast and pull me close. You run one finger up over my clit, and then kiss me on the forehead and walk away. "Dinner's ready," you say, as I try to stop shaking.
"Tease" I call after you. "Just you wait until after dinner," you respond. "You'll find out what teasing really is."
I can't wait.
You have obviously put a lot of effort into this. I can smell something wonderful in the kitchen, and next to the table is an ice bucket, filled with something other than champagne. (Thank you for remembering what I drink.)
You take me on the grand tour, showing me the living area, the kitchen, the bathroom, and last, the bedroom. My suitcase is there, as is another array of toys. It looks as though you have plans for both the living room and the bedroom. I start to ask you how long before dinner burns, but you interrupt me with a kiss, one hand on my back and the other making a pattern on the inside of my thigh, driving me crazy.
You tug on the back of my blouse and say, "Off." You resume kissing me and I murmur "Yes, sir" into your mouth as I fumble with the buttons, unwilling to pull back far enough to unbutton them easily. And you don't make it easy to concentrate on the task at hand, do you? Running those fingers along my thigh, reaching higher underneath my skirt, almost touching my cunt. Almost. Teasing me, as I remove my blouse. You open my bra with one hand, a skill you learned long ago and have obviously continued to use on a regular basis. You're good... one quick motion, and it falls away, hanging from my shoulders.
You move the hand that isn't driving me mad to my breast. You cup it, caressing it, slowly increasing the pressure as you move your fingers closer to the nipple. You run one finger across it, making it even harder than the hand between my legs had made it. You rub it with one finger, then two, pinching softly at first, then harder, while I begin to moan "Please, oh please" while you continue increasing the pressure on the nipple, making me want you more and more until I'm begging you just to be inside me. Fingers, cock, anything as long as it is you and I feel you inside me.
I hear a buzzer in the distance. I don't know how long the sound has been there, but you hear it too. You take your hand from my breast and pull me close. You run one finger up over my clit, and then kiss me on the forehead and walk away. "Dinner's ready," you say, as I try to stop shaking.
"Tease" I call after you. "Just you wait until after dinner," you respond. "You'll find out what teasing really is."
I can't wait.
