Legs intertwined, tangled in sheets, they laid in the afterglow of their most recent passion. As they often did during their cooldown, they found themselves flipping through pictures of beautiful women online. Scrolling down, at the sound of the "ooooh" escaping the lips of his love, he stopped on the picture of beautiful goth woman. Upon seeing her ivory skin draped in black fabrics, "Like her, do you my dear?" he playfully asked. She responded in kind saying, "If I had the energy, I might ask you to leave me with her."
A fantasy forming in his brain, he placed a gentle touch below her chin and lifted her gaze from the screen to his own deep brown eyes. Dropping his voice to the sultry baritone she loved so much, "Why would I leave you alone with an image, when I could so much more." Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, she responded, "Oh, could you? Do tell what you have in mind." Closing his eyes and drifting into the depths of his imagination, he begins to weave a tale...
Picture yourself sitting in a chair, red hair cascading around your face. Eyes peering towards the doorway across the room, illuminated by the moon shining through the window and candles by the bedside. The smell of lavender hangs around you lending a sensuality to the very air you breathe. You listen acutely for any sound, hearing only the excited beating of your own heart and ticking of your calf-high, heeled leather boots ticking impatiently in anticipation. When, you finally hear the creaking of floorboards and soft shuffling and scraping along the floor, you hold your breath and bring yourself still, eyes fixed on the doorway. A wicked smile crosses your lips, eyes widening in delight as I walk in your pet for tonight.
Looking past me, you see at my side a beautiful, lithe young woman on all fours, being led, blindfolded, into the room by a soft leather leash attached to a chain collar around her delicate throat. The moonlight streaming in seems to dance and shimmer against her pale skin, sparkling off the ring shaking in her left nostril as she crawls in beside me.
Your gaze starts at the long black haired, accented with streaks of deep purple, that hangs around her face and the red satin binding across her eyes. A slight pout curls her lips, showing the faintest hint of dimples. As you peer beyond her collar, you note the image of a thorned rose along her shoulder. Its stem, twirling down her left bicep, seemingly sways in the imaginary breeze as she slightly trembles awaiting her orders.
You raise an eyebrow to me and with a simple tug of her leash, she tucks her knees forward and raises her arms from the floor, sitting gently on her heels. She now sits back, fully displayed for your view. Her small, stark white breasts, firm but heaving ever so slightly as her breath catches. Hard pink nipples raised from their soft flowery base, draw your longing look, as if they are aimed straight at your innermost lust. You are momentarily transfixed until a glint of light, catches your attention, drawing you down to the braided silver chain dangling from her navel.
Following she shiny silver braids, you see the soft lines of her stomach, leading to her waist and hips, perfectly framing that which will be yours. A tuft of black hair, short and neat, sits above the top of the lips that you long to taste. And, is that your imagination or do you see a wetness along her inner thighs glistening in the pale light. Without a word needing to be spoken, you lock eyes with me, and extend your right leg. I look down at the candle's reflected flame dancing against the shiny black leather and know what you want.
I look down at her, and with a single command, say "walk", as I take a step forward pulling her leash behind me. She falls forward, back onto her hands, and follows me across the room to you. It is now that you place the sound from before, realizing that it is the shushing of her thigh high, fishnet stockings, swishing as she crawls forward to you. Leading her to your feet, "Stop", I command, leaving her hovering above your leg. You look down towards her, appreciating the details of her rose and the beautiful arch of her back leading to her tight, perfectly rounded ass. Looking momentarily to me, you smile, nod, and return your attention to her with your appreciation conveyed.
"Your mistress's boots are not shiny enough. Do something about that," I say in a low, but firm voice. Without hesitation, she tilts her head, hair tossing around her neck, and arches herself forward, slowly, until she feels the leather against her cheek. She shimmies herself forward, rebalancing on her legs, as she places her hands behind your left ankle. She lifts your foot towards her mouth and settles the heel of your boot upon her right breast, digging slightly into the soft flesh. Tilting her head down and starting at the tip of your boot, she slides her tongue along the outside of your boot. As she moves up your calf, the heel pushes in a little deeper into her chest. Her hands tighten on your heel, but nothing else betrays the sharp pain piercing into her as she dutifully licks to the crest of your boots.
Feeling the tip of her tongue touching skin, she pulls back and repositions herself at your toes, slightly beside her previous starting point. I praise her thoroughness, "Good. We don't want to miss a spot". She nods and repeats her movement, tongue grazing gently up your boots, strip by strip, from tip to top. With each pass, the pressure upon her breast deepens until you feel the soft, wet touch of tongue upon your thigh.
As each sequence reaches its conclusion, the tingle of electricity shoots through you when you feel her soft tongue upon your skin. Your pulse quickens, and you feel the heat grow deep within. Like the surface of your boot, you grow wetter as she works her way from the outside of your leather footwear to the inside. Savoring each moment, you watch her dutifully obey your unspoken commands. But, now the desire within you is building to a torrid fire, and you want more.
