let go, Stella.
From the second I’d noticed her across the lobby at City Hall this morning, bending over in that fitted skirt, I’d had to have her. Seeing her here, aroused and dishevelled and open to me, was the only acceptable conclusion. I clasped a hand around her delicate wrist, careful with the slight bones, my eyes nonetheless violently raking the rest of her incongruously curved body.
The silence was taut. There was a grave, possibly vulnerable light flickering somewhere in the dark blue recesses of her eyes. For a split second she was a confusing mix of brittleness and delicacy. I hesitated, unsure, until she flickered those eyes down my chest, her lips parting naturally as she took in the sight of my erection through the trousers. The dam broke, desire rushing me. I’d never met a woman who could control my libido like this; just a well-timed gaze or a loaded silence was enough to flick my switch.
I brushed a finger across her cleavage. “I’ve missed you,” I said. I leaned down, touching her lips. “I’ve missed this.” I kissed her, and then drew back to undo my pants.
Her eyes were heavy with feline arousal. Was she pulsing now, between her legs, aching for me? I hoped so. I was aching to lose myself in her again. I knew from experience that she could take me to a place where it was just pleasure, and wet sensation, and dark hunger.
“I’ve missed this, too,” she said, winded. Her chin pointed precociously as she watched me, memories flashing behind her eyes.
“Do you still think about us?” When she nodded, a deep throb coursed through my cock. I clasped her face in my hands. “Have you fantasised about this?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Unable to hold back any longer, I leaned down to taste the firm, plush lips. She opened to me at once. Her mouth was hot and slick, and as soft as a cloud. I plundered it over and over.
She broke off, panting. It took a second for my gaze to focus on her as she fought to scramble on to the bed. Legs flashed, showing a tempting row of lace under the slim skirt. My whole body stiffened in silent anticipation. Those thighs—they’d be slick with need by the time I’d finished. And those lush breasts, straining under her dress. I hadn’t lied. After the affair had ended, I hadn’t been prepared for exactly how much I’d miss this. She was a heady mixture of hills and valleys, of careless oblivion, thrown together in a glorious map of female beauty that was utterly unique.
She sat up, her wild hair tumbling around her shoulders and down her back. I’d hastily yanked the blind half down, the bedroom drenched with the disconsonant aura of obscured daylight. The heat and the humidity conspired to create a smoky line of makeup around each eye; it was sexy as hell.
I was so busy admiring her that I was only dimly aware of her fingers undoing my belt. She was focused on me to a degree that she seemed barely aware of anything else, and me, her.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her, surprised after the words left my mouth.
She flashed a smile, brows lifted. “You’re beautiful,” she said in a low, definite tone, as though this somehow superseded the way she looked.
She wanted me. I could see it in every glimmering shard of her receding irises. Her hands smoothed across my cock … oh God, yes . She eased the zipper down, grazing my erection, making it twitch as though reaching for her in response. Her eyes, heavily lashed, tracked the movement.
“Take off your dress,” I said, my voice rasping with the sheer effort of speaking. “Take it off.”
Hesitating, she then eased back on the bed. That curious mix of shy and bold overtook her. She shifted, skimming the dress across her hips. She revealed firm thighs, pressed generously against the downy comforter. Her stockings ended just a few centimetres below a pair of black silk panties. I could already taste the sweet flavour of skin there, so different from the rest of her
From the second I’d noticed her across the lobby at City Hall this morning, bending over in that fitted skirt, I’d had to have her. Seeing her here, aroused and dishevelled and open to me, was the only acceptable conclusion. I clasped a hand around her delicate wrist, careful with the slight bones, my eyes nonetheless violently raking the rest of her incongruously curved body.
The silence was taut. There was a grave, possibly vulnerable light flickering somewhere in the dark blue recesses of her eyes. For a split second she was a confusing mix of brittleness and delicacy. I hesitated, unsure, until she flickered those eyes down my chest, her lips parting naturally as she took in the sight of my erection through the trousers. The dam broke, desire rushing me. I’d never met a woman who could control my libido like this; just a well-timed gaze or a loaded silence was enough to flick my switch.
I brushed a finger across her cleavage. “I’ve missed you,” I said. I leaned down, touching her lips. “I’ve missed this.” I kissed her, and then drew back to undo my pants.
Her eyes were heavy with feline arousal. Was she pulsing now, between her legs, aching for me? I hoped so. I was aching to lose myself in her again. I knew from experience that she could take me to a place where it was just pleasure, and wet sensation, and dark hunger.
“I’ve missed this, too,” she said, winded. Her chin pointed precociously as she watched me, memories flashing behind her eyes.
“Do you still think about us?” When she nodded, a deep throb coursed through my cock. I clasped her face in my hands. “Have you fantasised about this?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Unable to hold back any longer, I leaned down to taste the firm, plush lips. She opened to me at once. Her mouth was hot and slick, and as soft as a cloud. I plundered it over and over.
She broke off, panting. It took a second for my gaze to focus on her as she fought to scramble on to the bed. Legs flashed, showing a tempting row of lace under the slim skirt. My whole body stiffened in silent anticipation. Those thighs—they’d be slick with need by the time I’d finished. And those lush breasts, straining under her dress. I hadn’t lied. After the affair had ended, I hadn’t been prepared for exactly how much I’d miss this. She was a heady mixture of hills and valleys, of careless oblivion, thrown together in a glorious map of female beauty that was utterly unique.
She sat up, her wild hair tumbling around her shoulders and down her back. I’d hastily yanked the blind half down, the bedroom drenched with the disconsonant aura of obscured daylight. The heat and the humidity conspired to create a smoky line of makeup around each eye; it was sexy as hell.
I was so busy admiring her that I was only dimly aware of her fingers undoing my belt. She was focused on me to a degree that she seemed barely aware of anything else, and me, her.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her, surprised after the words left my mouth.
She flashed a smile, brows lifted. “You’re beautiful,” she said in a low, definite tone, as though this somehow superseded the way she looked.
She wanted me. I could see it in every glimmering shard of her receding irises. Her hands smoothed across my cock … oh God, yes . She eased the zipper down, grazing my erection, making it twitch as though reaching for her in response. Her eyes, heavily lashed, tracked the movement.
“Take off your dress,” I said, my voice rasping with the sheer effort of speaking. “Take it off.”
Hesitating, she then eased back on the bed. That curious mix of shy and bold overtook her. She shifted, skimming the dress across her hips. She revealed firm thighs, pressed generously against the downy comforter. Her stockings ended just a few centimetres below a pair of black silk panties. I could already taste the sweet flavour of skin there, so different from the rest of her
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