First, of course, I’ll want to choose your clothes. A dress, almost certainly. The lighter, the softer, the better. And panties. White? A bright solid color? I think that’s where I’m headed. Bikini? Thong? My usual boy shorts? I don’t, actually, think I care.
I hope to see you before you see me, to have you sit, waiting for me, for just a few moments. So I can drink you in, anticipating your taste, relishing your anxiety.
Then? I’ll approach you. Maybe I’ll hand you a room key. Maybe I’ll ask you to join me for a drink. If the former? I’ll send you up to the room with instructions. Maybe to get naked, to start playing with your pussy. Maybe, to get naked and simply stand, or lie, in wait for me. Maybe not to get naked, but to lie down, clothed, and play with your pussy. Or just to lie – or maybe kneel – in wait.
If we get a drink, we’ll make a little small talk. I’ll make you a little uncomfortable by telling you how excited I am to feel my tongue against your clit as my fingers open your cunt, as my thumb presses against your asshole. Or maybe you won’t be uncomfortable. Maybe you’ll enjoy hearing my words. My hope, though, would be that your pussy would start to glisten with moisture, as our mutual anticipation mingles in the air above our drinks.
Once we both are upstairs, perhaps I’ll restrain you – your hands, your feet – so I can focus all my attention on your cunt and you can surrender yourself to that attention. Or perhaps I won’t. Maybe I’ll simply ask you to imagine you are restrained. I’ll position your hands and feet, and instruct you not to let them move, even slightly.
Then… then… I will dive into what I’ve been waiting for so long for.
And I. Will. Devour. You.