It’s a lazy spring afternoon, and I'm lying on the old chaise lounge in the sunroom, having the most delicious daydream about spending the afternoon alone with him at my place. I’ve just met his plane at the airport after several months of living apart. Our first embrace, after such a long separation, has turned heads. I hear a child whispering to his mother, but can’t understand what’s being said because I am so completely immersed within his kiss. His soft lips upon mine render me incapable of thought as sweet strains of B.B. King gently fill the air from invisible speakers...
‘If you want my loving, if you really do
Don't be afraid, baby, just ask me
You know I'm gonna give it to you…’
The short drive to my home is torturous. The sexual tension between us runs so deep that we’re barely able to complete the five mile stretch without stopping to share another kiss, another touch.
We found each other late in life, at a website where writers weave wonderfully provocative tales of their sexual escapades and fantasies. We were attracted to each other from the moment that we met on the bulletin boards - two people in their mid-40s, both having experienced many ups and downs in life. Marriage, divorce, children…yet, we were seemingly thrown together for a reason. Two souls danced upon the virtual beach that night, connecting in a magical way that would ultimately bring them together as one. We held each other close under the clear moonlit sky, and gently swayed to the honey-tinged voice of Sade…
‘When I was led to you
I knew you were the one for me
I swear the whole world could feel my heartbeat
When I lay eyes on you Ay ay ay…
You wrapped me up in The color of love’
As we enter the house, he quickly grabs me and overpowers me with deep, intoxicating kisses that make my head spin – and starts that familiar tingling so deep between my legs. Suddenly, I feel him covering my eyes with some sort of cloth. Nervously excited, I feel myself smiling as he ties it behind my head. As the blindfold robs me of my vision, it adds to my awareness of sensation. I feel myself shiver as he slowly runs his fingertips up and down my suntanned arms.
Taking my hand, he leads me to the kitchen table and proceeds to bend me over it, my arms and legs spread wide apart. As he lifts my dress, I can feel the summer breeze as it dances across my bare bottom. I smell the scent of the fresh blossoms on the jasmine vine outside of the kitchen window, so sweet, almost heavenly. With a whisper light touch, he runs his hand over my ass… almost, but not quite ever touching that place where I need to be touched so badly.
"Don't move an inch!" he says in a firm voice.
I hear him turn and open the refrigerator, and notice the familiar sound of the top being popped off a can of Coke. He’s closed the refrigerator tight, and opens a cabinet door to retrieve a glass. Opening the refrigerator once again, I can hear him filling his tumbler with ice. He pulls a chair up directly behind me, and I can tell that he’s just sitting there, staring at me in all of my naked glory. I'm getting antsy, needing to feel his touch so badly. With great anticipation I await his next move, and feel the sticky wetness begin to ooze from my cleanly shaven lips.
I hear him pulling the chair so close now that I swear I can feel his warm breath upon my skin. Softly, so very slowly, he runs one fingertip over the glistening wetness that now covers my soft lips. Then, it's gone. Damn! I picture him smiling now, and sense that he's really starting to enjoy this torment. A few minutes pass, and I hear the rattle of ice in his glass. Suddenly, I feel him moving a piece of ice around my bottom in lazy circles. Lingering at the small of my back, I feel a cold trickle of water roll down my crack, and it mingles with the wetness that has begun dripping from deep within me. It's an incredible sensation, the ice cold water being warmed as it runs over my lips. Upon reaching my clit, it has just a faint bit of coolness left. I’m savoring every incredible moment in my mind. Maybe I'm enjoying it too much, for he suddenly withdraws his hand.
Five minutes must have passed while he sat silently, staring at my ass, his gaze so intense that I could feel him looking straight into my soul. Now he's started lightly grazing my bottom with his warm fingertips, drawing imaginary designs in my mind. As he gently traces the trail of the water that ran down between my cheeks, I try to open myself up to his fingertip so I can feel it inside of me. Whack! One of my cheeks is suddenly reddened by his hand. I find myself having to catch my breath from the surprise, but it makes me want to feel his touch even more.
"Be completely still," he says sternly.
‘Oh no,’ I think to myself, ‘I just blew it!’
How right I was. Ten minutes pass as I wait quietly, hoping to feel his hand on me once again. I'm so wet now that my juices have begun to run down my thighs. He sits in silence, smiling as he watches it roll... one inch, two inches... halfway down to my knee.
