You come home and find a note from me, lying on the table. With directions and an address, with a time to be there. . . .
And a box.
A box containing a slinky black dress.
A dress and a note.
Amongst scattered rose petals.
A note simply saying: "This and nothing else. XOXO"
You pull up to a darkened house. In a neighborhood of darkened homes. Your only company along the drive, a full moon playing peek-a-boo
with you, behind silken clouds, and the dimly glowing streetlights. As you lean over to see the house address better, that's when you notice. . .
The pathway of flickering candles. Flickering, beckoning. . .Enticing.
Leading to the back yard and through a trellis gate overgrown with roses.
Your heart starts beating faster. . .
As you step out of the car, the dress sways around you. An eager dancer that needs no music.
No music other than that which is made with your every sway, every roll of your hips.
Standing in the moonlight, you're highlighted, bathed in silver radiance. A fallen angel about to spread blackened wings.
Beauty beyond this world.
The glossy darkness of your hair catches the light and shimmers.
The rich caramel of your skin, darkened, glows with a silken lustre.
The dress. . .The dress is black flame, star kissed and moon bathed, form fitting, a second skin.
Hiding the last of your marvels, amplifying others.
An image enough to be ever seared, lastingly into any mind.
At the sight of you, the breath catches in my throat. Hard. A tremor runs through me.
Of longing. . .Of Desire. . .
Need.
My muscles tighten in anticipation. A dull roar fills my ears. . . .Blood rushing. . .
Stepping out of the car, the smell of roses and lilacs encloses you in a heady cloud.
There is a silky warmth to the air, a crisp cleanness. The smell of fresh grass, the trees,
the flowers. . . The night. Envelopes you.
The air is a warm caress, kissing your every contour.
As the air kisses your most tender of lips, a shiver tumbles its way up your spine and goosebumps
break out across the backs of your silken thighs.
Your heart pulses hard.
The grass is plush beneath your feet, tantalizing, teasing.
A breeze whispers through the leaves of the drooping willow nearby, a raspy whisper full of promises.
You walk the candlelit walkway, created just for you.
The heat teases along your legs.
The light reveals the carpet of roses laid out for you.
Soft and velvety. Moist as you step upon them. Each step releasing more fragrance.
Lifted skyward by the flames, caressing you as it rises, . . . lingering.
An angel swaying through fallen flowers. . .
Flowers given up their beauty in deference to hers. . .
Flames. Highlighting, wreathing. Bathing.
Her dark ambiance become a living thing, swaying, sashaying.
His heart threatens to burst at the sight, a vision beyond fantasy.
Beyond belief. And his. . .All his. Mine. Forever.
You don't walk along the candlelit path, so much as float. Surreal by definition.
Through the gate you go, leaves brushing, clinging almost hungrily.
And who can blame them.
Your candle strewn bed of flowers leads you to the hot tub.
Candle encircled, and illumined. Petal scattered.
Music is playing, words just out of reach, a beat that thumps inside your chest all the same.
You smell me a second before the tips of my fingers trace up your hands, up your arms to grip your shoulders and pull you back against me.
Your favorite of my cologne.
My arms tighten around you, muscle hardening, holding you to me tightly.
Face buried in your silken hair, inhaling your smell. . . Lips kiss their way down, around to your left ear.
Lips find your ear, breath hot and heavy against you. "Mmmmm. How you doin' ", rumbles out. My voice roughened by the burning need for you.
And with you so very close. . .
You giggle and grind your ass back against me. Noticing just how very much I have noticed you.
Leaning forward against my arms, I let you go to spin you around, facing me.
Your arms slide around me, fingers clenching against me, pressing yourself as tightly to me as you can.
My arms encircle you once more, molding themselves to you. Needing the feel of you. Savoring it. . . Savoring you.
A moan rumbles forth. You feel the vibration through my chest, where your head rests, even as you hear it.
Cupping your ass, my fingers begin kneading their way upwards. Clenching. Rubbing. Massaging. Up your deliciously firm ass. Up the muscles
of your sleek back, to the silken glory of your shoulders.
Savoring every inch, every glimpse of muscle hidden beneath the silken fabric. Fingers sensitive enough to almost be eyes. Eyes exploring you.
Eyes filled with disbelief and wonder. Filled with a hunger so bone deep nothing else matters.
The world narrows down to the smell of you and the feel of your body. Both against me and beneath my fingers. You encompass the entirety of my world.
And I wouldn't have it any other way. . .
Minutes stretch into what seems an eternity.
Me lost in the smell and sensation of having you in my arms, under my hands.
You lost in the smell of me, my reality, the sense of security. . . of belonging.
And of course my hands.
I pull back. Just far enough to cup your face between my hands.
I gaze down into your eyes. The eyes of the woman that completes me. The most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.
Held in the most beautiful face I could ever imagine.
My heart beats painfully as the enormity of how blessed I am hits home.
Eyes trace your face. Your lips. The curve of your cheek. Stare into your eyes, eyes so full of love and wonder.
And somehow, I love you even more.
For how could I not, when confronted with the reality. Your reality.
The reality of a dream coming true. A dream I can touch with mine own two hands.
Tears are threatening as I lean forward. Forward, to take your lips with mine. One hand pressing against your lower back.
The other holding your face to mine. Needing your mouth, your taste. Needing you in a way that's painful. Consuming.
"Give me your tongue, baby, pleease. I need you"
And you do.
Lightning rockets through me at the taste of your mouth, the feel of you against me.
My ensuing moan vibrates through your mouth. Through your very soul.
My need for you eclipses reality itself.
I take your mouth with a frantic need. The hunger for you ruling me completely.
The sheer physical need, making nothing else real. Nothing else matter. Just the feel of you. Your taste.
Your warmth. And how badly I need both.
How badly I need you.
All of you. . .
The hand pressing your mouth to mine become a clenched fist.
Clenched in your hair, pulling your head back.
Exposing the smooth expanse of your neck to me. To my mouth.
Which I eagerly exploit.
The taste of you, the feel. The silken heat. I wish I had fangs to sink in you.
I need you. To be inside you. More than I need air. I need to taste you. Have you.
My teeth scrape across you, the sharp ones, that feel so painfully delightful against your nipples.
A howling starts echoing in my head. The primal scream of desire. Of wordless need. The need of your body.
Of your everything. Hungrily, my mouth finds yours again. Claiming you. Taking you. . . Needing. . .
I pull back, panting. Eyes closed. Your fingers that have worked their way under my shirt, digging into my back,
feel the muscles harden. Just as a sound, part growl, part moan rumbles out of my mouth and reverberates against you.
Part of you is afraid, unsure. Yet your pussy throbs painfully and you feel yourself grow even more wet.
As I open my eyes again, you unconsiously gasp.
You're there, in my eyes, mirrored, floating in the fires of desire burning there.
Fires bright enough you can feel the heat bathing you.
It's very hard to breathe.
As the wicked smile slowly stretches across my lips, part mischievous, part cruel, part knee-weakeningly sexy.
Blue eyes turned saphire flame. Filled with such wicked promise.
You stop breathing all together.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Three.
Thump, thump. Thump.
Time lurches back into motion.
My fingers are velvet steel as they slide down your thighs, moving back up.
Exposing the tight curves of your ass to the starts and candlelights.
Exposing you to my Eyes.
You give a little gasp as I spread you open. Strong fingers pulling your ass apart, opening you to the breeze. To me.
Staring into your eyes all the while.
Eyes you can't look away from even if you desired to do so.
My fingers find the edges of your labia. The honeyed wetness of your desire having spread even further.
My dick throbs painfully. The proof of your own longing, making mine many times worse.
Fingers tease you. Lightly brushing against the softest of your silken skin. Glorying in the sticky wetness of you.
The delicious suction as I hold a finger against your hungry opening. Only to pull it away. Feeling little strands of your
desire stick to me. Feeling them call to me. A language older than words.