She walks into the room, dressed as I’ve instructed. She wears a tight blue minidress. It’s low-cut, revealing her decolletage, featuring her slender but muscular arms. “Stop right there,” I say.
She stands before me, her ankles crossed, her hands on her hips, her left hip just slightly higher than her right, as if to dare me. As she stands, I can hear the fabric of her stockings rubbing against itself, her left leg behind her right, pressing against it.
“Turn around for me,” I say.
She turns, slowly, slowly, until her magnificent ass is in my face. The tops of her stockings –thigh-highs – peek out below the bottom of her minidress, which rode up slightly as she moved. Her hands rest on her thighs, not quite relaxed. She turns over her left shoulder to see me, my cock stiffening in my jeans. Her hair, jet-black, long, rests in front of her left shoulder, draped over her left breast, and hangs in front of her arm.
“Turn and face me again.”
She takes two steps toward me. I didn’t ask her to do this, but she does. Her lips are full. She has the hint of a smile on them. As if she knows what I might, what I will, do to her, with her, for her. Her breasts, not that big, are straining at her dress. She lifts the bottom of her dress slightly, so I see not just the top of her thigh-highs, but her left thigh itself, creamy, white. My cock is aching. I unzip my jeans, and slide my right hand inside, gripping it through my boxers.
“Turn once more,” I say. “Lift your dress for me.”
She does as I say. (She always does.) She lifts the dress just enough for me to see not just her thighs but the garters that are holding the thigh-highs up. Her thighs – slender but meaty – spill out over the tops of the stockings just a bit. She lifts the dress still more. I can’t yet see the underside of her meaty, round, delicious ass. But I can almost taste it. She turns over her shoulder and looks at me, looks down at me, for I’m sitting just feet from her, my eyes at the level of her ass, of her cunt, and her mouth looks hungry, wanting….
I stand, and guide her to the bed. I lower her, slowly. I move the chair so I’m right in front of her. “I’m not ready to use you. I want to watch you some more,” I say. “Cross your legs for me.”
She sits erect, tall, on the bed. Before she crosses her leg, she hikes the dress up just a bit, so as to be sure to give me the best possible view. She crosses her right leg over her left, and the view before me is delectable. I see both thighs, and the tempting hint of what’s between them, but I can’t (yet) see it.
As I stroke my cock, she shows a little initiative. She uncrosses her legs, and lifts her left leg up on the bed, spreading her thighs before me, exposing her cunt – well, not her cunt, her black lace panties, translucent, hiding her cunt – to my gaze. I sigh, and take my cock out of my pants, out of my boxers, stroking it as she exposes herself to me. She looks at my cock, so hard, and she smiles, proudly.
“Turn around again,” I say. “Show me your ass.”
She turns for me, on the bed. It’s a little awkward, but she’s graceful, still. She lifts the dress for me, and I get my first glimpse of her ass, in these black lacey boyshorts. Her ass is magnificent, round, pale. I can hardly wait to leave my hand-prints on it, to grab her, to lower her onto my cock using her ass as my grip.
I ask her to get off the bed, to face me again. This game is growing difficult for both of us – her cunt is (I know) dripping. My cock is twitching with anticipation. “Face me,” I say. “Lift your dress for me.” I intend my voice to be commanding, but the need in my groin is infecting my intonation, and I vibrate a little more nervously than I might wish. My voice gives away my hunger.
She does as I say.
She lifts the dress high, almost to the bottom of her breasts, and she stands with her right hip higher than her left. She looks confident, and delicious. I can’t believe my good fortune as I take in the vision of her, as I anticipate what is to come. The light shines between her thighs. Her black panties are shiny, wet. I can almost feel how hot they are over her cunt, how wet they are. Is that a drop glistening on her thigh? I can’t be sure.
She continues lifting the dress, to reveal the black bra she’s wearing. It lifts her small breasts, pushes them together, and she does too, with her forearms. The space between them is perfectly sized to contain my cock. There’s no way to think of anything other than sliding my cock between her perfect breasts as she stands before me. Until I let my eyes drift down her body, down her flat belly, to those black panties, to her thighs, now spread a little further apart. The tops of them glisten.
“Take the dress off,” I say, and when she has done so I stand, my cock awkwardly poking out of my fly, and I push her, hard, on the bed. She recovers, quickly, and lies on her side, facing me. “Up,” I say.
She turns away from me and climbs up on her knees. Her ass is in my face again. I’m losing control. I’m going to have to hit her, to touch her, to fuck her, soon.
But not yet.
She does, facing me.
“Take your bra off,” I say.
She lowers the straps, teasing me, holding them just above her nipples. And then, in a fluid motion, the bra is gone. Her dark areolae face up, her nipples are hard. I’m going to bite them so hard. She knows this.
She rests her hands on her thighs, exposing herself to me, vulnerable.
I throw her back on the bed, and she laughs, lifting her legs as she falls, squeezing her thighs together, her pussy facing me, tempting me, teasing me.
And then, she rolls over, lifting herself up on her knees, pointing her ass at me, as if to tempt me, to dare me. I give it a solid whack. “Not yet,” I say. “First, you’re going to suck my cock. For a long time.”
She turns to face me, on hands and knees. She licks her lips, hungrily. She places her hands on the edge of her bed, lowering her face to me. I step toward her, and trace my cock along her lower lip.
“Good girl,” I growl.