You stand in the room nervously. It's our first meeting - and we've managed to get an evening alone in a nice hotel. A thought had crossed your mind when dressing; a fantasy half-remembered from however long ago. You had bathed in vanilla-scented water, letting your skin relax, then gently rubbed a delicately scented lotion into your skin, everywhere, until you could practically feel yourself glowing with relaxed pleasure. Then you had let your inner grin come out, and dressed very carefully. A tiny dark red thong, with tie-sides that rested right on top of your hip bones. Since it was tie-sided, you wrapped a matching dusky red garter belt around your hips and carefully clasped it, moving with slow, deliberate motions, smoothing the lace and satin over your skin. Then sitting down, you carefully rolled your stockings up your legs, smoothing and gently adjusting the fabric. A point you had been very clear about when you purchased them - they had a very bold, dark back-seam that you were careful to arrange on the very center of the back of your legs. Carefully affixing them to your garter belt, you gave everything it's final adjustment before reaching for your clothes.
Over this you had added a skirt that you were very proud of owning - dark forest green, with long, artfully arranged slit up one side, your left leg open from just below your mid-thigh to your feet. The skirt had lots of fabric, which meant that you could choose to let the slit fall open or not. A quick flip of the fabric had the slit closed, until you got to the hotel room. And on top, ahh - this was the pride and joy. A corset, boned in heavy braided steel, of green brocade matching your skirt, with garnet red and gold highlights woven through it's front panel. It was a flat-topped style, pushing your pale, smooth breasts together and lifting them. You'd had Tim's help fitting you for this a week ago, getting the laces just right - now it was only a matter of getting it hooked!
When you finally got the corset hooked properly, you turned and examined yourself in the mirror, made a few adjustements to your clothes. A few minutes with your paints and powders and you grabbed a midweight chocolate-brown celtic wrap to go around your shoulders and hide your figure.
Now you stood in the hotel living room, your exquisitely painted nails clicking on the little kitchen; your skirt had been adjusted to reveal the long, pale line of your left leg. Your makeup was flawless, lightly applied everywhere except your lips - there, a thick coat of dark red lipstick, highlighted over with a very slick, wet-looking shiny gloss, spread over both lips. The effect was dazzling as I stepped through the door and took you in for the first time. I could barely think. I just watched your nails move, watched your lips - oh, those delectable lips! - parting softly as if you were going to speak. I drank in the sight of you, from your hair to your tall black heels. I open my mouth to speak, then think better of it and walk over to you. I'm dressed in a black suit, with a dark gray dress shirt, and of course, my hat. My polished dress shoes click on the wood floor of the entryway as I walk over to you, slowly reaching my hands out. I can't believe it - you're actually here! We're actually doing this! Barely thinking, I move toward you, but stop, an inch away from touching you, still shocked by the physical presence of you. And you're wearing the outfit, exactly as I described it all that time ago. I move forward again and let my fingertips slide over your waist, feeling you shiver at my first touch. I lean in to press my lips to yours, a slow, ever-changing kiss. My lips lighten, barely brushing yours, my tongue tip teasing the underside of your lip. We kiss, again and again, letting lips and tongues explore and tease constantly. I can feel my body aching for yours, feel your delicate soft lips smearing their lipstick over mine. I kiss you anyway, delighting in the satiny, slick feel of gliding across your lips in their protective gloss, kissing it off of you happily. I can hear your soft groan as you feel your lipstick being kissed away - how long have we fantasized about this? Given each other the visual? - knowing that it turns you on to feel your lips moving on mine. At last, I cannot wait any longer - I have denied my body too long just by kissing you.