S. was ready on time as per his instructions.
Impatient for his beloved presence, she paced the house, pausing in front of a full length mirror to check her appearance.
Critically she assessed what she saw. She was tallish for a woman, around 5'8". Her thick, sherry coloured curls were swept up tightly into a band. Loose, it fell in luxuriant, curling waves to her hips and was a secret, closely held source of pride. She felt sometimes she should cut it but he objected as he loved to bury his face in its sweet smelling bounty and would gather handfuls of silky curls and rub his beautiful cock in them. Her shoulders were broad and straight, her back a breathtaking curve to firm, high buttocks. Her stomach was firm but slightly rounded, a small sweet pouch between the bones of her narrow hips.
Cupping her breasts, she studied them critically. She would have loved more bountiful tits although he never complained. Although small, they were plump and firm with impudent dusky pink nipples and large areolas. The best part was that they were incredibly sensitive.
He would lip them gently, then suckle, pulling more and more of the sweet flesh into his mouth, sucking strongly until she would close her eyes and feel the tug from the back of her nipples straight to between her thighs, an insistent tug on her womb.
She was wearing the short, white skirt he had chosen that morning together with the black tank top. Cut low, her soft flesh swelled out of the top. Pale, silk nylons whispered up her long shapely legs.
Reaching up, she unfastened the clips that held her hair, allowing the rich burnished curls to cascade down around her shoulders and hips, a long tendril slipping into the valley between her breasts. Running her fingers through it she patted the gleaming waves into a semblance of order and grabbing her makeup, went to the mirror.
A brushing of powder, a sweep of mascara and she was ready.
Her pale Irish skin was almost translucent, resistant to sun and incapable of tanning – she had learned long ago to stay away from its harmful rays. Her eyes were large and double-lidded, their irises an intense, deep green flecked with gray and blue. A strong celtic nose, smooth cheeks and a small, expressive mouth with a clear sweet line on the upper lip and a plump, pouting lower lip gave her an interesting and arresting visage if not a traditional pretty face.
The dog barked outside. Clicking on the high stilettos he favoured, her buttocks flexing, calves prominent, she hurried to the front door in time to open it for him.
Coming in, he threw his keys on the side table, put his briefcase down then stepped back to assess her. She stood, hips slightly jutting out, long gorgeous legs flexed, the mass of hair waving and falling silkily about her, the swell of pale breast above the stark black of the tank top, quiescent.
He walked around her, quietly, his eyes narrowed and stern, making her tremble slightly. She felt him at her back, her very nerves so attuned to his presence that it were as if he were touching her. Her sense of self, her barriers, dissolved when he was near, softening, opening, as if spiritually he could enter and claim her as he did physically.
She felt his warm hand on her back, barely touching, he trailed his fingers down over the taut buttocks to the bottom edge of the skirt. With one finger, he delicately lifted the skirt, exposing the pale flesh at the top of her nylons, then lifting higher, he studied the play of muscles in her buttocks, the sweet sight of the scarlet thong emerging from the dimpled cleft of her ass.
With the barest of pressure, he pushed into the small of her back. Obediently, she bent forward, feeling her ass cheeks flex and open slightly. She felt the slight push again. Breathing a deep breath out, she bent completely forward, her forehead touching the front of her calves, hands clasped behind her ankles.
He watched as her entire groin was exposed from the silk clad cleft to the narrow line of her thong barely masking the furled beauty of her anus. Her thighs, long and supple were taut, the firm cheeks of her ass gaped slightly, giving him ingress to her most private parts. He took his finger and ran it along the line of the thong. Scent suddenly filled the air, a musky perfume as her sex dampened the silk cloth.
Gently, but surely, he pushed the strip of material aside and then suddenly, with no warning, thrust his stiffened finger up her cunt. She gasped, and without conscious thought, pushed back, impaling herself further on his finger.
A sharp slap reddened the cheek of her right buttock, she stopped. Crudely, but unbelievably erotically, he fucked her with his stiff finger. She felt her cunt swell and dampen. Clutching her ankles tightly, she willed her hips to stay still, fighting the almost unbearable urge to push them against him. She opened her tightly shut eyes and stared between her slightly spread legs at his beloved self.
Pulling his finger clear he commanded her to stand straight. A bit dizzy, she complied and obeying the pressure on her hip, turned to face him. He held his hand before him, glistening finger extended.
Capturing her eyes with his, he slowly and methodically raised it to his face. First he held it beneath his nose, inhaling deeply her intimate scent, then his tongue flickered out. Fascinated she watched as he carefully licked her off his finger, sucking the last tendrils of dampness into his beautiful mouth.
Then, grinning, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own, running his tongue into the soft warmth of her mouth, allowing her to taste her own juices. He was happy, she was content.
Moments later, he had had a quick shower and was set. Pocketing his keys, he grabbed her hand and pulled her outside to the car.
The top of the sporty convertible was already retracted, the soft leather interior open to the elements. Laughing, she lifted one long leg and hopped in over the door. Buckling in, they were quickly on their way – heading for the highway. Turning west and then north, he headed up towards cottage country.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"You'll see, don't be so impatient," he admonished her.
She wiggled, trying to pull the skirt down over her ass more. The car was small and her legs were long; together with the stiletto heels she was nervous she was flashing far more than a flash of thigh. Leaning over, his eyes still on the road, he grabbed her thigh.
"Leave it – I want to be able to look over and see most of your legs and maybe your thong," he said.
"But everyone else will too!" she said.
"That's the idea." His voice was amused. "You know I like it when others can see my girl."
With that, he tugged at the skirt so it was pushed even further up and the scarlet of her thong was clearly visible.
To her relief, traffic was starting to drop off. She felt extremely exposed in the small compact car. Vans, trucks and other vehicles had an uninterrupted view of her legs and crotch, making her feel self-conscious yet at the same time, causing a guilty rush of excitement which made her feel sexually hyper-sensitive.
He flashed a devastating grin at her; inside, her heart contracted.
"Reach in and pull your tits out," he instructed, "don't undo your bra, just pull them out and let them sit on top."
Shocked, she looked at him a bit incredulously.
"In case you haven't noticed, we're in an open car!" she said.
"DO IT!"
