John, it was beautiful. How’s your day? Do I still have a bad day? I’m kidding.
“I have a wonderful day,” we whisper gently, a sweet breath dye your voice.
“Wait until you see what kind of NIGHT you’re going to have!” I’m still laughing.
“UH oh”, you smile in response.
“Oh, honey!” I’m sighing. “I forgot. I brought some work to read before tomorrow. Why don’t I clean this up from dinner, and I’m gonna start working. You could go relax, read the paper or take a shower. Sorry, it’s just a few hours of reading. I’ll catch up later if you’re patient.” You sigh too, but smile when you detect the malicious glow in my eyes. “Nite isn’t finished yet,” you think.
I start taking my clothes in preparation to dress up, and feel your hand on my arm. “No honey, don’t do that again. Go put this red and black thing, you know, the one with the black lace and those little red ties on the front.”
“John, my work…” I murmur, an anxious look at my face.
“I promise to leave you alone until your work is done. You tell me when you’re ready to play. I’m gonna take a shower now and then I’m gonna read the paper or watch TV until you finish.”
After your shower, you come to the living room to pick me up. Your eyes travel in the room until you see me lying on the couch. I don’t know if you’re in the door and it gives you a moment to look at me.
I put the red plush with the black lace. It’s bright red like the dress I had on me earlier and has black lace around the legs cut in French, and where it dives up to a V at the front just below my waist. It’s almost closed with the three little red ties in front. From where you are standing, you can see the sweet swell of my breasts above the black lace, while I breathe regularly, intention of my reading. The notebook I’m holding rests on my stomach right under my breasts, and I slowly turn the pages as I read. You like to look at the subtle movement of my breasts while I raise my arm to turn the page.
The light above my head shines on my hair that flows freely on the pillow and around my shoulders. You walk and kneel next to me on the floor and gently lift a buckle that rests on my upper chest. I feel the hair on the back of your hand barely brushing against my skin. I sigh and turn my face towards you. You turn the gold buckle in your fingers now, feeling its silkiness. I look at your face as your eyes travel the length of my body, enjoying how I feel when you see me. Your finger traces a pattern at the bottom of the skin line showing between the ties, then around the lace at the top of my legs, until you can touch the hair cracks framing the lace on either side of my plush. “How many readings do you have, darling?” you ask with a barely hidden impatience.
“A half an hour more. Maybe less if I can concentrate. It’s hard to think when I wear this thing!” I’m laughing. “All I can think of is when you take it away from me.”
“No honey,” you say. “I’ll let you read. I’ll wait until you finish.” You go away and sit in a chair nearby, rustling the paper while you bury yourself behind.
I’m looking at you for a moment, sitting behind this paper. All I see is your legs, and I think I wrapped them around me when you’re deep in me. I sigh and go back to reading.
I intend to read, I don’t hear you stand up and go into the kitchen. But when you get back, you go to the couch again, and you ask me, “Do you want to eat ice cream?”
“In a minute. Let me finish this page.”
You sit in your chair with a slightly disdainful look on your face. “What night will I have?” you question. “News, TV, ice cream!” You put the ice a little too hard on the table next to you and you take back the paper, and you rust it too, trying to convey your impatience.
I smile as I close the notebook and quietly cross the room and kneel in front of you. I am slightly tracking my nails from your ankles to your knees, cutting your legs slightly until I can rest between them. Looking under the paper, I smile at you gently and say, “John, I want my ice cream now!”
You put the paper on the floor and take the bowl and cook a big bite of ice and hold it in front of me until I open my mouth to take it. But the ice is melting quickly and some fall on my chin and fall on your stomach, and you fold when the cold hits you. You laugh by wiping my chin ice with your fingers. I take your hand and slowly lick each finger, from top to bottom, looking for the softness of the ice cream with the tip of my tongue, and then circle your palm until the tight is gone, looking at you in a suggestive way while I do this.
Then I look at the ice cream on your stomach, which is starting to flow to your short belt. I lick it with just the tip of my tongue, then I gently move my tongue through your waist until I just feel a little squirm. I lick my way to the centre of your stomach, then to each of your nipples, swirling my tongue until they become hard. Then I sit down a little and I ask, “Do you become impatient here love?”
You’re moaning. “There is a limit to my patience, Darling!”
I’ve got my hands trapping your sides, crossing your chest, descending the centre of your stomach. My stomach is resting against your knees. I can feel proof of your desire to start stirring and pressing against my body, feeling your warmth through the thin satin tissue.
“Only 10 minutes, I promise.”
“Oh, you! You crying bitch! Teasing! Just for that!” You slowly pull on the first tie, which quickly and easily detachs, knowing how this gesture will affect me, while I feel the fabric release its grip on my breasts. My nipples weave and press against the cloth that covers me, seeking freedom and your touch.
You smile with ardour and whisper with ardour: “Back to your DARLING reading. I couldn’t think of interrupting for the next 10 minutes!”
Now it’s my turn to whisper and sigh! “Hmph!” We both know that this playful game of tease and tease only intensifyes our anticipation and excitement.
When I go back to the couch, with my back to you, I lean slowly and deliberately to hit my pillow, simply, and take my notebook, knowing perfectly that you look at every move. I can almost feel your loving caress as your look moves in my back, follows the curve of my hip, and rests on my slightly clothed bottom, before I turn and open my notebook and settle again.
I lie down with bent knees, one resting against the back of the couch, and the other moving indifferently from top to bottom, again absorbed in my reading and totally ignorant of the effect that my unconscious movement has on you. The plush is cut high above the legs, and whenever I swing my leg outwards, you catch a fleeting glimpse of my golden hair framed against the narrow strip of black lace running between my legs.
I try to concentrate for about five minutes, but my thoughts are wandering and are no longer on the words of the page. I sigh, and let the book fall down and close my eyes for a while, savoring the feeling of anticipation. Unconsciously, and with eyes always closed, I touch the tip of my fingers to my neck, and hit me along my collarbone, turning my face to one side. As my hand moves on my shoulders, I spread my fingers and trace bright patterns, moving lower, until my hand rests on my left chest, and I massage until the nipple is hard in my palm. I sigh, I open my eyes, and I’m surprised when I see that you look at me with intensity that evokes your own excitement.
I’m moving like I’m getting up, embarrassed, but you’re going through my room by talking softly to me, whispering, “Don’t stop the honey. Let me look at you.”
“I can’t. I want you John.”
You sit next to me and untie the second tie on my teddy bear and take my hand and put it on my chest. “I know, but I’d like to look at you.” Your hand gently touches my other breast, until the nipple grows between your fingers. You move your hand over my body, down between my legs and massage the palm of your hand against my mound as I slightly separate my legs.
You lift me up from the couch and take me to the bedroom, gently lie me on the back in the center of the bed when you sit next to me.
You whisper gently, “You know how much I love looking at your beautiful body.”
I hate slowly, a little reluctantly.
“You don’t like how you feel when I look at you?” You untie the last tie on the front of my plush and soften the fabric, exposing my breasts while you speak, and letting your eyes wander freely, touching each part of me only with the intensity of your gaze. I shudder as I feel a familiar spasm between my legs, and whine gently.
“Yes, John.”
“Relax, love. Think of me looking at you. I know it turns you on, and it’ll turn me on. I’ll be excited to see you touch.” You slowly remove the fabric from my breasts. Then, taking my hand in yours, you kiss every finger tip and put my hand on my waist.
You pass through the room and whisper, “Honey, I love you.”
In principle, I move a hand on my body, my waist and on a chest outside my plush. I stop, uncertain.
I touch my right hand on the right side of my neck, and slowly scratch my nails on the skin, between my chin and my collarbone, rolling my head on one side on the pillow.
I close my eyes, and start giving up on the sensations of my own hands caressing my body. My thoughts drift towards a vision of you looking at me, imagining your reaction, imagining your dick becomes more and more difficult as you see every sign of my growing passion in a way you have never seen before.
My other hand moves towards the centre of my stomach, touching the skin revealed in the opening of my plush, and I push the fabric further and slip the straps on my shoulders. I robbed my back until the tip of lace and satin was pushed around my waist. My hands climb the length of my body and rest on each chest, cutting them, massaging and caressing, working nipples in hard peaks.
My breath accelerates as my excitement rises, and I’m lost because of what I do for you. I slightly open my legs and move one hand down, working under the fabric until I can feel my own humidity. I open my legs wider and slide my hand further, burying my fingers in my hair that are tangled now and damp of my excitement.
I completely wet my finger and then move it through my body until I can touch each nipple with my humidity, feel each one grow harder. I then touch the same finger to my lips and gently hit it back and forth until I can taste my own salt.
I open my legs even wider and hit the tip of my fingers on the other side of my thighs, brushing me slightly on the place of pleasure between my legs.
I breathe heavy now, and sighing, apparently forgetting that you’re in the room. But I speak your name, “John?”
“Yes, Nicole, I’m here.” I can hear a loud sound in your voice. “Take the plush off now, Nicole. Let me see your whole beautiful body.”
I slowly arch my back and slide the offensive fabric on my hips, until I can throw it with the movements of my legs. I bend my legs but hold my knees, I don’t know what to do next.
I split my legs slightly and put a hand on my hair, smelling moisture against my palm.
“Open them wider Nicole. Let me see you all love. Lose more honey… for me.” Your voice betrays your growing passion and desire, and gives me courage.
I let my legs open and start exploring the soft folds between my legs, relaxing, pushing the hair aside to allow my finger tip to slip easily between my opening and the swelling of my pleasure point.
I move my finger tip up and down between my legs, slide slowly with my moisture now evenly distributed, and stop every time I touch my rosebud, turning slowly, enjoy the waves of sensation that start to grip me. My other hand continues to hit my upper body, through my lower belly, and on every breast. I shiver and groan as the first sensation of orgasm begins to wash on me. I put a finger inside my opening, feeling the softness and warmth deep inside me.
“Aaaahhhhh” I sigh, as I pull my finger off and still turn my point of pleasure. My clitoris is hard and erect and every soft touch brings me closer to climax, but I try to hold back, allowing tension to rise.
I still move both hands on my upper body, allowing my legs to remain open as a blatant invitation, touching my nipples with my wet finger, and feeling shivering. As I turn my hand between my legs, I reinsert a finger and push my hips upwards, I slowly switch into the movements of love, and I slide my finger upwards until I can feel my orgasm starting. My finger turns my clito with a new intensity and my screams fill the room. I’m so lost now, I don’t know that you joined me on the bed until I could feel your tongue mingling with my own finger, licking and kissing and pushing me over the edge. You push two fingers deep inside me and you move them slowly in and out while your tongue continues to probe and touch my pulsating flesh.
“John… oooohhhhhhhhhhh, yes… I want you now. Hit me now!!!!!!”
My orgasm collapses slowly, and you move between my legs and barely put your dick in me. I encircle your flesh with my hand, feel its length and hardness. I move him up and down between my legs, moaning every time he passes on my clitoris still erect, as the last sensations of orgasm die.
“John, you’re so hard!! I want you inside me. Fill me with your dick. Annoy me!!!”
Your dick moves back to my opening and you push gently, pushing a few inches in my heat and moisture, slowly slide in. I hold my muscles against you, trying to sink you deeper inside, moaning again, “Fuck me.”
You pushed harder, you buried yourself at the bottom of me, and I buried you to meet you, wrapping my legs around your hips. We move in unison, moaning gently with every push that brings us closer and you deeper into me. You’re like never before, filling me up and hitting me. Every time you push me deeply, I feel your skin touching my clitoris that is still hard and sensitive, and I can feel your balls slapping against me with the intensity of your movements.
You cut my face in your hands and I dig my nails in your back, staple you again while I tighten the handle my legs have on your hips. Your tongue is in my mouth, seeking mine, until they encounter an emergency equal to the thrust of our lower bodies.
“John… ohhhhhh… now, come into me now. I’m here… come with me. Oh, John!
You can feel the spasms deep in me as I sigh and call your name. Our tongues are in a damp and ardent embrace. You’re tense, and I feel your dick grow even stronger as you start to come with an intensity that leaves us both weak and inhaled. Your coming fills me with every deep thrust, until you fall down against me, whispering my name, mixing the moisture of our bodies together while we are still joined.
You lean your face towards mine until our lips meet in a sweet kiss, and we stay that way for a while, enjoying the feeling of being locked together, feeling our heartbeat against each other and the feeling of you in me.
“Oh John, I love you.” I push wet hair from the forehead, touch your cheek and kiss you gently again.
“I love you, too, Nicole.”
You abandon me and you shoot me in your arms and we set ourselves against each other, allowing our hearts and our breathing to slow down.
“The night is not over yet”, I whisper gently as the sleep begins to hold us both. “No, it’s not over, honey…”