"Meredith, time to get ready!" Ridge calls as he walks into my room and heads straight to the closet. A moment later, he emerges and says, "Arms up" as he stalks towards me. Closing the book I was reading, I pull the covers back and stand from the bed.
His eyes hungrily rake down my naked body as I raise my arms and give my voluptuous tits a little shake. They bounce against each other like a pendulum and my nipples pebble at the sensation and his attention. He smirks, already knowing what I'm up to, and his green eyes darken as he yanks me towards him. Fingers digging into my hip, he gives my ass a sharp slap, the sound nearly echoing in the room. I jump and whimper. Oh, it stings!
"Do.not.tease.me, little girl.," his deep voice growls into my ear. "We have to leave soon and that won't happen if I'm buried in your tight cunt, so do not start, brat. Do you understand?." "Yes, sir. I'll be good," I say breathily. A hard squeeze of my already stinging ass cheek leaves me squirming as he steps back a bit to slide a silky, silver dress over my head and down my body.
The dress lands mid thighs. The material is so soft and luxurious. After a steaming bath and relaxing massage earlier, I was surprised with a house call from a local salon for hair and makeup. "Because we're going out tonight and Daddy's girl deserves to be treated like a princess," Ridge had said. I do feel like a pampered princess, but I look like a wanton slut, I think as I tug on one of my curls.
A slit up each side of the dress exposes the curve of my plump hips, the front draping deep between my breasts. A thin glittering chain, the only thing keeping the fabric from sliding completely off my big, pretty titties. This dress is gorgeous, but could easily pass as a Negligé. The cut doesn't allow for panties or a bra and I have no doubt the outline of my peaked nipples are visible through the smooth, cool fabric. I smile to myself knowing that tonight I am dressed like a walking wet dream and I love it. Wherever we're going, I hope cocks weep and pussies puddle when I walk by.
Gesturing for me to sit on the bed, I lower my self down and Ridge kneels. He wraps a hand around my calf and raises my leg as he places a sweet kiss on the tips of my pink tipped toes and then slides each foot into a beautiful pair of silver metallic, Louboutin, peep toe pumps. I smile sweetly at him and wonder where we're going tonight that this outfit will fit the dress code.
Rising from where he knelt, he reaches for my hands and helps me stand. Holding me at arms length, he appraises his work, and steps away to retrieve a bag from the closet. Returning, he pulls two blue boxes out of the gift bag. "Princesses wear Tiffany's," he says as he fastens beautiful dangling diamond earrings in each ear and a breathtaking sparkling bracelet around my wrist. "Spin for me, baby and let me look at you." I slowly turn giving him a good view of the slits up my hips, and all the little details carefully cultivated by him to craft me into a sex bomb tonight.
"Absolutely fucking incredible, baby," he says shaking his head, eyes roving over my body from head to toe. "Every time I think you can't get more perfect or enticing, you exceed that tenfold. You are a goddess on this damned earth. No doubt, Aphrodite reincarnated and you are fucking mine." He growls that last bit and I blush deeply at his praise. Eyes shimmering, I whisper a sweet thank you.
Sometimes, Ridge's sweetness knocks me off my feet. He's a contradiction between praise and pampering, discipline and sin. A gentleman when it counts and not a gentleman at all when it counts even more. He's soft and hard and every single thing I never realized I needed to keep me anchored, but afloat in the stormy seas of life. He allows me to be myself in every way and matches my energy accordingly. I was trapped, locked away for good, barely surviving my own mind when he came barreling into my life. The only man on this earth capable of wielding a key to fit the lock to my self-imposed prison...... and unlock it, he did.
Not only does he have an air of authority about him that commands attention and respect with every room he walks into, he is a mouthwateringly gorgeous man. Tonight, he wears black slacks and a smoky gray button down with the sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to his forearms. I muse as I remember the first time I watched him remove his cufflinks and roll his sleeves up. I immediately understood the fascination and joined the hoard of women obsessed with the gesture.
He is so effortlessly sexy with a head full of dark, unruly hair, and sharp jawline that's just now showing a bit of 5 o'clock shadow. His green eyes are my favorite color and somehow pierce through my soul and read me like a book when he looks into mine.
My gazes travels down his face as I continue cataloging his beauty and about all the things I appreciate about him. He has plump lips and a tongue so skilled that it should be replicated and sold at sex shops across the world (like I would allow that). I take note of the pretty, white teeth that leave the sexiest marks on my skin.
Tonight, he wears the cologne that makes my knees weak and I selfishly want to be the only one who ever gets to smell this sultry combination of Ridge and cologne. My eyes continue to rake down his body. Tall, muscular, broad. Hard in all the right places. I am not a tiny girl, but he towers over me, his size engulfing me, and making me feel petite.
And his cock. His cock deserves a paragraph, hell a whole fucking book solely about it. It deserves an award, a statue, and initiation into the fucking hall of fame for being the most perfect specimen of dick there has ever been. If I cloned his cock, made a dildo factory or sex robots with it, I would have riches unimagined. It's a shame every woman doesn't get a chance to ride my man's perfect rod to a mindblowing, life- altering orgasm.
