Weekly, snackable erotic shorts to satisfy your mind's eye.
Her whimsical giggles contrasted my short scoffs. Didn’t mean to come off aloof but she mesmerized me. Hard to deny the giddiness I felt.
Made me amorous.
The heavy ass red wine didn’t help much either.
It was tangy, sweet… just like she. The conversation rendered the same. We exchanged glances between pauses in each of our moot points. The pause prompted a new cycle of such conversations. Never paid attention to overly feisty women, but her sex energy was prominent. My attraction to her undeniable. Certain I fucked her a couple of times in my mind, which added to the suspense of potential choke-strokes while she tried to prove one of those moot points.
Sit her on my face and nibble on her clit.
Tongue kiss her labia and feel her body cream all over me.
“Hello….HELLO!” she wafted her hand in front of my face and that’s when I knew I’d gone into my own portal of thoughts. “My bad,” I scoffed. “Got caught up. I apologize… You were saying?”
She honeyed, “It’s all good beau,” and it sent me over the edge. I wanted to fuck her. I had to fuck her… tonight. Didn’t give a damn about all those first date rules. I wanted what I wanted and she was it. The feeling unbearable. More than she could imagine.
Or, could she?
Reveled in her detailed nuances. The way her coiled curls draped over her left eye with subtlety. How her strawberry-blonde highlights contrasted her ochre-colored skin. Onyx freckles, speckled along the bridge of her nose added character. The chef’s kiss of perfection was the quarter-inch gap permeating through her smile. Wondered how the suckle would be with her lips kissing the tip.
Her nips struggling to stay composed through her raglan top heightened the mood. Wondered if she knew or even cared. I waited with bated breath for a sneak preview. Thought out scenarios I’d enact to make it less awkward. Maybe sneak a touch.
Adjusted my seated position while my eyes trailed along her décolletage. Conjured another thought of nibbling across her clavicle with my fingers discovering the fruits of her lower lips.
It was utterly delectable.
Each tilt of her head with that whimsical laugh, I expanded.
Ready to slide between her thighs. Indulge in her pheromones, a natural essence that continued to intoxicated me. Whatever spell she used had me—willingly. Prayed the right words remained on my tongue. Sensed a mutual connection and needed to ensure the night ended with her and I entangled in my upper room.
Been months since I had a taste.
A medium-well filet mignon with pearl herbed potatoes, French cut string beans, a sprinkle of bacon bits and a side of basil butter adorned her plate. Had me curious where it all went, then I realized I could see her ass from the back. Oddly enough, we just discussed her shift in diet to veganism and got concerned the night would be eventful in the most adverse way. It was too early for contradictions. I didn’t want to lose the energy, so I went along for the ride and ordered her another Macallan neat.
I suggested a whiskey sour but she preferred her hard liquor as is. "No fluff," as she put it. I obliged. A bit concerned she’d be too inebriated to enjoy the night, I suggested Perrier with lime as a buffer.
Still, I forged ahead.
My grilled salmon against her medium-well filet mignon showed we had less in common than I presumed. I continued to study her moves and kept quiet while she ravished her meal. Chewed vigorously. Silverware clinked against the plate. Sipped the Macallan in between bites.
In a matter of minutes, she from African violet to Stinging nettle.
I continued to be intrigued.
Suddenly, I felt pressure hit my groin. I glanced down to catch her foot make acquaintance with the girth hung densely inside my slacks. Drew my eyes back in her direction and raised my eyebrow. Curious. Further intrigued. Aroused. Insatiable. Desired to roam in her mystery and wondered if she’d oblige to expose me. Make a public spectacle of my arousal. The impressions of my heaviness hidden behind a luxury tablecloth revealed whenever we departed this place.
I began to squirm and she attuned to the motion. Used her petite feet to inscribe her wants against my slacks. Apparently she was a pro. I delighted at the fact we weren’t as uncommon as I presumed.
Still, the urge to ravish her for public consumption became hard to ignore.
Throaty moans a challenge to control.
So strategic in motion, her big toe grazed the tip and I immediately called for the check. Had the waiter place our food in to-go boxes and wrap up the bill.
The twenty-minute ride back to my house seemed further than normal.
When we arrived, before I could insert the key into the door her tongue entered in my mouth, while her hands greeted the accoutrements awaiting her living altar. Clear my intent to venerate the Goddess within.
Opened the door, spun inside and our lips locked and tussled. Stripped off each article of clothing to the rhythm of our own frequency.
Then she stopped.
Slowly pushed away and gave me room to take her in. There she stood with a black and cream lace bustier with high waist briefs to complement. The magnetism between us expansive. She took her pointer finger, waved it side-to-side, and the remainder of my clothes hit the floor.
My masculinity exposed.
Awaiting his next command.
Silence spoke loudly, then she disrupted the air, “You have twenty-minutes to fuck me as if your life depended on it because… well… it does.”