|
She stood alone in the night-darkened room. She paused and lit 3 red candles on her dressing table. She turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror, and paused in the act of brushing her auburn hair. Her skin showed eerily white in the darkness of the room, highlighted by the new nightgown she had just put on after her shower. The black silk of the long negligee clung in places to her still damp, moisturized skin.
She had used her perfumed crème, and the scent was a heady one as the warmth of her skin released its fragrance into the night. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes. She didn't see how the mirror reflected the rise of her full breasts above the low cut bodice of the black silk, which was edged in red lace. She shook her head back and forth, loving the sensual feel of her hair brushing back and forth across her neck and shoulders.
How sweet the scents in the room! The only sweeter scent was that which filled the air after they had made love on her plush bed. She would lie in his arms and wonder at the incredibleness of it all. She opened her eyes and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. The vision was lit only by the candles on the dresser top. The black of the silk blended with the dark of the night behind her. The red lace was bright against the black, stark against the whiteness of her soft skin.
She smiled softly as she raised her hands. She stroked them over her cheeks slowly, then moved them down her neck. She paused with her hands just above her full breasts, sheathed in black silk. She could see, even in the dim and flickering candle light, that her nipples were peaked hard and tight beneath their silk and lace covering. Her hands moved down, lightly stroking over her full, sensitive breasts. She shivered in response to her own touch.
Her hands cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples, as her heavy eyelids closed briefly. She remembered in the darkness of this night, how his hands had felt when he had stood behind her. He had slid them around her slowly, lightly caressing her waist, before sliding up to cup and possess her full, womanly breasts. She loved having her breasts touched, stroked and caressed. She loved it when he would play with her sensitive nipples, teasing her to higher ecstasy, all the while tempering his touch, to keep things in his control. She moaned softly as she squeezed her own breasts. How she wished it were his hands that were possessing her white breasts, and pink nipples. She wanted his fingers to coax her nipples to tight, hard peaks of desire. It was the slightly rough feel to the pads of his fingers that could cause shivers up and down her spine.
She lowered her right hand down, over her tummy, smoothing the cool silk under her palm. When she came to the V of her thighs, she shifted them unconsciously, and her hand slid between them. Her fingers found the wetness that was quickly dampening the smooth skin of her womanly flesh. She stroked her softness, imagining that it was his hand that was between her thighs. How she wished he were standing behind her! Her hand was now damp from the wetness of her desire soaking through the black silk.
When she slid her hands between the fleshy folds, she moaned in the darkness of the room. Her soft cries of desire sounded loud in the silent room, scaring the cat that had sat perched on the blue velvet chair in the room. But she didn't notice as she continued to touch and tease her own body. She squeezed her left breast, feeling it get fuller, more sensitive with her light, teasing touches. Her right hand pulled the black silk up so her fingers were flesh against flesh now, becoming wetter and wetter with each passing second. Her hips rocked back and forth with her arousal now.
It had all started with a simple phone call. She had called him at work, just to make sure he had gotten there okay. Just hearing his voice over the phone, the words so innocent, had started her hormones flowing, and soon she was so hot, so aroused. She had gone into shower, and shaved, in hopes of cooling off a bit. But then she had smoothed perfumed lotion over her freshly shaven skin, dotting perfume behind her knees. She had decided to put on the black silk gown… And from there, well…
She cried out softly, her head falling back, like a full rose on a too slender stem to hold it. She swayed softly in the darkness of the room. She could wait no longer. She walked over and lay down on her large, lace covered bed. As she lie there, she pulled the bodice down until her full breasts popped free. Her nipples peaked even tighter in the slight coolness they were now exposed too. She lifted her hips to pull the gown to her waist.
Her hand quickly returned to between her thighs, touching her smoothly shaven flesh. She stroked herself softly, gently, easing between the folds. Slowly, she found her center of desire, and the soft, tiny light touch had her hips jerking in response, her breath gasping and catching in her throat. But her fingers eased back eagerly, again and again. Stroking, teasing, caressing she continued, until she eased her fingers back a bit, and just as she eased one finger inside herself, her flesh eased forth, and she flooded her fingers with her womanly liquids, as her flesh spasmed around the gently entering finger. Her hips jerked out of control. And her soft cry filled the silence of the room.
Soon her breathing calmed as her flesh cooled in the darkness of the night. She eased off the nightgown, and slipped between the sheets. As she lie there in the aftermath of her personal storm of passion, the candles on her dresser flickered out. She smiled as she thought about how she would tell him in the morning when he came home, just what his voice had done to her last night!
|
