I watched her slender, silhouetted outline as she stood in the darkened room. The city lights peered through the window like little, horny voyeurs, watching her, unable to look away. Perhaps she was in a playful mood tonight? I could only hope. She lit a couple of candles on the table in the corner. She held the match between her finger and thumb, watching the flame work its way down the wood of the matchstick, as if in a trance. She felt the increasing heat of the flame as it closed in on her flesh. She parted her lips and blew. The flame flickered and vanished, and smoke twisted up into a small, winding pillar into the darkness. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sulfur, smoky smell. She turned her head toward the bed as she let out her breath with a moan. This was the beginning...
She knew I liked to watch. This was her gift to me: Her show, her stage, her epic-erotica.
She walked across the room toward the bed. Slowly, her hands reached up and released the single button on her suit coat. Her shoulders rolled as she let it fall off and slip to the floor. She unbuttoned the top 2 buttons of her white, sheer blouse. The peeping lights shone through the material, revealing the curve of her large breasts, held firmly in place. The next 2 buttons revealed her stunning cleavage. The soft light cascaded over her shoulders, funneling down between her breasts, highlighting the compressed flesh within her bra. She set the last 3 buttons free, and her blouse quickly followed the suit coat. Her boobs were held firmly in a thin, nearly see-through bra. It was too dark to see her nipples, but there were hints as her body moved. Closing her eyes, she ran her fingers lightly across her belly, feeling the sensation, the tickle of her own touch. Her hands were symmetrically synchronized, turning perfectly matching concentric circles on her sleek stomach. Her nails crossed her belly button and rode the center line of her abdomen up to her tits. Her head swayed from side to side as she focused on the sensations her skin felt. Her fingertips crossed the thin fabric and wire of her bra and her hands, knuckle to knuckle, traced the center of her cleavage, up and around the top of her breasts and back down to her stomach. She grabbed her hips and squeezed, feeling the pinch of her nails in her skin.
He reached over and touched his finger tips to the side of her knee. He ran his hand up the outside of her thigh, feeling the firmness of her thigh through the coarse polyester skirt. His hand traveled down the front of her thigh to the inside of her knee, then worked its way back up the inside of her thigh, under her skirt. He could see her head tilt up as she enjoyed the feel of his wandering hand. He continued up higher, slowly, feeling the warmth of her body heat as he got closer to her core. She took one step sideways as if to offer free passage to his nomadic hands. Her hands ran up her hips to her ribs and cupped her tits. She let a small moan escape as she squeezed them, pressing them to herself. His hand traveled further until, at last, he felt the warm, moist crease where her leg and pelvis met. There were no panties, just the flesh of her outer labia, sensitive and engorging. She seemed to expect him to touch her, to press his fingers against her swelling lips. Instead, he reach between her legs and ran his hand up the back of her round ass, stopping to squeeze. She looked down at him with that smirky smile that says, "so, you want to tease, eh?"