There must be magic in the air...
He sees her from across the dance floor, and as he does, his groin tingles and he begins to anticipate possibilities.
She is easily the most beautiful woman in the room, with a mature sensuality that a younger woman can't match. She is tall, a full six feet, and slender, but not thin, with narrow hips topping long, tapered legs that peek out from the long slit in her floor-length dress. Her plump, pendulous breasts hang perfectly on her chest, and her strapless gown reveals enough of her cleavage to hold promise without being showy. She has a narrow nose, dazzling hazel eyes, perfect teeth and a thick, rich brunette mane that is arranged perfectly atop her head.
Their eyes lock, and he notices a shy smile play across the woman's face. She's talking with friends, but her attention has been drawn to the handsome man on the other side of the room.
In but a second, she gives him a quick mental appraisal. He is tall, but not too tall, maybe 6-foot-2, and he is lean, well-built. He has a ready smile, twinkling blue eyes, and a head full of brown hair cut short, liberally flecked with gray. He looks dashing in his black tuxedo, with the starched white collarless shirt buttoned to his neck, stylish without tie or ascot.
She feels the wet heat begin to build between her legs as she too contemplates possibilities. She blushes and turns away as she feels his hot gaze upon her.
A minute later, she senses a presense next to her, and she turns to find herself looking into the man's deep blue eyes.
"Would you care to dance?" he asks in a rich tenor voice.
"Why certainly," she replies. "Excuse me," she says to the friends she has been chatting with. The touch of his hand on her arm is electric, and she knows her friends are envious, perhaps even jealous, and the thought amuses her. She laughs, and it has the peal of a fork on fine crystal. The man shivers as a wave of passion slithers up his spine from the sound.
The dance floor is moderately crowded, and they quickly assume their positions, gliding effortlessly across the floor as one. The music is cool and jazzy, the kind of dance music that hasn't been popular for generations, but has never gone out of style.
As they dance, they exchange small talk, but it is a mere mask, hiding the lust that is building. Their closeness is intoxicating, and they drink in the wonderful sensations of incipient passion.
After a couple of songs, they migrate to a table, and he deftly takes two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. They talk amiably, but their eyes are locked on each other, communicating wordlessly their smoldering desire.
When their glasses are drained, they go back onto the dance floor, and this time the number is slow, seductive. Their bodies press close together, and they each feel the heat radiating from the other's body.
The woman's thin demi-bra cannot possibly hide the evidence of her arousal, the fat nipples stiff and aching to be touched as they push into the material of her bra, and thus to her dress. And the man's pants can't conceal the urgency of his need, the hard bulge that bores into her abdomen, as if searching for what it wants.
As the woman loses herself in the dance, she sees the ring on her left hand, and she rolls it around with her thumb in contemplation. She notices, too, the ring on the man's hand, and muses on that as well. But then the man speaks, and all thought of home and family are pushed aside.
"Would you like to get some air?" he asks smoothly. She can only nod, afraid that if she speaks, she will break the spell that has been woven around them.
He offers his arm, and she takes it as they float out of the ballroom to the long hall, panelled in glass, which affords them a view of the city that surrounds them in every direction. They find a quiet place, and gaze for a moment out one of the windows at the display of lights that make up the pulse of the city.
As if thinking alike, they turn toward each other, their eyes locking in an exchange of sultry looks. Their lips move together, then she closes her eyes and they kiss, softly at first, but soon they are urgent, their tongues finding each other, their open mouths straining at each other, fueling their arousal.
When they break, their eyes are sparkling with a barely-restrained lust, a want that surpasses anything they can imagine.
"Take me, please?" she asks softly. "I want you."
Then they kiss again, still urgent, but at a more measured pace. Their desire is out in the open now, and they can let it run at whatever pace they choose.
Their hands are clasped together as they stroll to the elevator. Soon they are descending to a floor about halfway from the penthouse ballroom to the ground. The doors open and they emerge, arms wrapped around each other's shoulder.
He produces a key card, and they enter the room. Once the door is closed and a lamp turned on, they are on each other with a burning passion. They've played it cool long enough. Their mouths meet in a frenzy of fiery passion, lips and tongues working as if they intend to devour the other.
The woman shudders as his lips and tongue draw a trail down her jawline, down her regal neck, while behind her back, he is skillfully drawing down the zipper of her gown. Once he has it open, she steps back and lets it fall to the floor in a white satin puddle.
The man takes off his jacket and hangs it over a chair, then pulls off his loafers and his socks, all the while drinking in the sight of her. She still has on the strapless bra, thin white silk panties over a pair of stockings that are held up by a scanty garter belt. He notices, too, the slight darkness at the crotch of her panties, evidence of her intense arousal.
As he stares, she reaches up and slowly begins to unpin her hair, and when it is free of obstruction, she shakes the brunette mane over her shoulders, giving her a wild, tousled look that speaks of open invitation.
Still in her white heels, she struts over to where he is standing, staring like a schoolboy. She closes to him and slowly begins to unbutton the shirt, and when she has it open, she pulls it off and tosses it aside.
The woman rakes her manicured fingers through the fur of his chest, and she admires the power apparent in his shoulders. Once again, he crushes her to his body and they kiss again with a white-hot passion.
As they kiss, he reaches around and unhooks her bra, and casts it to the floor. He gasps as he revels in the sight of her magnificent globes. They are perfect, large enough to satisfy any man's dreams, but not too big as to sag or to look fake. They are soft, yet firm, and he can't help but fill his hands with both of them, working his fingers outward to twirl the rock-hard nipples.
But he wants more, and as his hands travel down the woman's back to cup her panty-covered butt, he bends down, takes one of her nipples between his lips and begins to softly suck and lick the hard, light brown flesh.
Now it is her turn to gasp, in pleasure, as the sensations crackle from her breasts to her groin. She is very wet, and very hot, and soon she knows she will need more.
As if reading her mind, the man stands back up and maneuvers her to the bed. He gently pushes her back and she willingly falls on the bed, her breasts heaving with need. The man picks up her legs and runs his hands up and down each one, sending waves of lust cascading through the woman's body.
His tongue quickly follows, and gently licks his way down one leg and back up the other, careful to avoid any contact with the fertile valley that lies between. The woman moans in lust and frustration. The longer he goes without touching her there, the more she wants it. She feels like she is about to explode from the mounting sensations of lust.
Finally, he kneels on the floor in front of her and slides his hands, both of them, over the silk-covered mound. He slides a finger under the material, and is greeted by a flood of juice from her over-heated pussy. A loud moan is wrenched from her lips as the man lightly slips two fingers up her hot furrow to her swollen clit.
Abruptly, he reaches under her butt and pulls her panties up her legs. He pauses as he pulls them past her knees, gazing in wonder at the beautiful wet pussy that is open to his view. It's like the rest of her, full but not excessive. Her pubic bush is dark, but trim; the lips open, but taut.
And those lips are gleaming with the flood of arousal. He bends her impossibly long legs back, and inhales her essense, the scent of her desire. He quickly works two fingers in her soupy slit, and she writhes on the bed as he pumps the fingers in her cunt, while rolling her clit with his thumb.
But that is not enough. He wants to taste her, to devour this treat of a woman. Without warning, he bends his head to her cunt and swipes his tongue up the length of her slot. She cries out in mounting passion, and he presses his assault with his lips, sucking and licking at her hot pink flesh.
As he works his mouth with purpose, he smoothly slides her panties the rest of the way off her legs, tossing them aside, and she responds by opening her legs as wide as possible, giving him the biggest target she can. Her body is thrashing on the bed as her climax begins to quicken.
Faster and harder, he works his mouth at her clenching hole. Her hands grab the back of his head, holding him to her crotch as she begins to tumble off the cliff into an orgasm that dwarfs anything she's experienced in quite some time.
Gasping, crying and squealing, the woman lets it go, her body shuddering as the orgasm crashes over her like the waves on the shore. As the ripples slowly subside, it's now the man's turn to feel the urgent need.
