Afternoon Delight

Note: This story is another that was written by a male author and I'm posting it for him. It is intended for mature and open minded audiences only. If you don't like surprises, dont go any further.

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Even though I was expecting it, the knock on the door startled me. Cara was a few minutes late so I had been fussing with the apartment, making certain that everything was arranged just so. Two martini glasses, a shaker and a small shallow bowl with stuffed olives sat poised on the counter that separated the living area from the kitchen. The bottle of Belvedere was stashed in the freezer and the Noilly Prat in the refrigerator. A stainless steel bucket filled with crushed ice coddled a small glass container of pale grey beluga. Tiny little wafers of toasted baguette waited nearby on a frosted glass plate along with diminutive silver spoons.

The drapes were drawn wide open flooding the big space with brilliant early afternoon light off the Atlantic and affording an unobstructed seventeenth floor view out to the aquamarine horizon. It was a cloudless sunny day in Miami, a welcome respite from the bleak, dank greyness I'd left behind in New York the previous morning. A light breeze wafted in through the open windows carrying with it a hint of saltiness. Nora Jones purred in the background.

I had met Cara three weeks earlier when last I'd been in Florida. We were both killing time in a bar in Delray, seated a couple stools from one another, mesmerized by the jellyfish in an immense double sided aquarium. After reordering identical drinks at the same time, the bartender mixed and poured them in one operation which led to a toast across the empty stools between. We both then slid over one so that we were sitting together and the small talk began.

By the time we were ready for thirds the conversation had wandered all over, eventually ending up focusing on sexual proclivities. It turned out that she was more than just a little frisky when it came to the bedroom. She was bi and had enjoyed numerous threesomes of various combinations, but her favorite was being on the receiving end of strap-on sex with another woman. I listened in rapture as this stunning brunette talked about positions and stimulation and filled in with a bit about some of my own adventures.

I asked if she would like to come back to my room and play for a while. She sighed and told me that her monthly visitor had just shown up and she was afraid she wouldn't be much fun for at least a few days. At that point she grabbed my phone from where it sat on the bar and punched her number in then navigated to save, telling me to call her next time I was around.

When I rang her later that month she immediately asked when might get together. I explained that I was in Miami for a long weekend and she suggested she drive down the next day. We picked one-thirty as the rendezvous time then I gave her the address of the apartment I'd rented. That evening I went shopping to began my preparations for the next day.

In the morning I took a long, long shower and shaved my legs along with (almost) everything else, leaving only a small patch of dark curls. I fussed and primped, tweezed stray eyebrow hairs and gave myself the best manicure and pedicure I'm capable of. By twelve-thirty I was applying foundation, eyeliner, and mascara followed by a blast of L'eau D'Issey in several strategic locations before painting my lips a throbbing scarlet. The shade exactly matched the soles of my five inch heel Louboutins. I rolled on a pair of sheer black thigh high stockings with lace tops, then slipped on the shiny black shoes before checking myself out in a full length mirror.

Damn but I looked good I thought to myself. I'm proud of my lithe slender body, my firm abs, and my deep overall tan, a side benefit of my frequent visits to Haulover, supplemented by regular appointments at a salon back home. My legs are long and shapely and the little patch of crotch hair nicely accentuated my near-nakedness. The breeze wafted across my exposed flesh and my nipples hardened. Excitement was beginning to take hold.

I answered the knock at the door like that, wearing only the stockings and heels. Had there been anyone else walking by in the hallway or getting off an elevator as I did, they certainly would have gotten an eyeful. Cara gasped slightly as I held the door open, her sparkling eyes wide in surprise.

A gossamer frock caressed her luscious body like a shroud of mist dancing along the shore on a cool summer night, its lavender hue enhancing the depth of her tan. The hem came barely below her crotch, threatening exposure with every step. Her shoes were straw platforms with dark lilac straps. The long cascade of dark hair she had sported the first time we met was fastened atop her head, exposing the back of her neck and revealing a small ankh tattoo.

We embraced, my nakedness pressing against her barely covered-ness. Our pelvises ground against each other as we tongue wrestled. Her hands found my bare ass so I slid the back of her dress up far enough to permit me access for the same. I felt bare cheeks separated only by a thin ribbon of silky fabric.

When finally we pried ourselves apart, I sauntered across the big room to the kitchen and pulled bottles from the refrigerator and freezer as well as some ice. The shaker was put to use and two martinis poured. Glasses were clinked and I pointed to the caviar. We savored the salty treat then dispensed of much of the martinis. The entire time her attention was riveted on me.

Setting my glass down I took hers from her hand, reached for the hem of her dress and guided it upward, first to her waist, then over her head as she raised her arms in compliance. It was tossed to a chair as I gazed at the sight in front of me. She wore a matching set of sheer beige bra and tiny g-string, both trimmed in purple lace. The g-string barely covered her sex and the bra clearly revealed dark nipples that were hard and pressing at the gauzy fabric. I handed her back her martini and as she sipped away at it I finished off mine.

My arousal was obvious, my slit glistening with traces of lovejuice. I wondered if she was wet and slipped a finger into the band holding the tiny patch of fabric embracing her twat. She wasn't merely damp, she was sopping, my finger easily sliding between the folds of her cunt and into her hole. It was hot in there and she groaned with pleasure as I burrowed deeper. I withdrew my digit, licking it clean before grasping the thong with both hands to slide it down and off her feet. It joined the dress on the chair and soon the bra did as well.

We embraced again, bare flesh to flesh, genital to genital, chest to chest before I guided her to the counter where I boosted her up to sit. Spreading her legs with my hands on her thighs, I lowered my face and kissed her wet labia then lapped at them with my tongue. She was delicious - sweet, musky, and primal. She twitched and shuddered as I probed and again she gasped when the tip of my tongue made contact with her rigid little nub. Once I had located the position of her magic button, I focused all my energies on it, lapping and tickling away as she came several times over the course of the next twenty or thirty minutes.

Her twitching had almost gotten out of control, so I decided she probably could use a break. After lifting her from the counter we again embraced. More tongue wrestling and crotch grinding ensued before Cara slid down the front of me rubbing her beautiful breasts all the way. When her head reached the level of my crotch she stopped and checked me out, driving me crazy with her hot breath. Then she ran the outside of her fingers up the inside of each of my thighs, stopping when there was no more thigh and my torso begins. Her fingers wrapped around my jewels and mouth engulfed the head of my swollen shaft. By the third plunge she had taken it all the way, her nose buried in the small patch of pubes.

Cara was more than diligent with regard to cocksucking, taking me deep and hard, then backing off to stroke my rod with one hand while sucking on just the bulbous glans, all the while keeping at least one hand in constant contact with my smoothly shaven balls. Every so often she would pause so that she could lick them or my shaft a bit before again filling her mouth with rigid manhood. I genuinely believe that she enjoys fellatio as much as I do cunnilingus.

When I thought I was finally just about to blast a load of my joyjuice down her throat, I pulled away, then guided her over to one of the big camel colored leather sofas. She sat and I pushed her legs apart, giving me full access to her pussy. Positioning myself between her legs I drove my cock into her hole, first just the head and then the entire length. My patch of hair rubbed against her smoothness as I slowly pumped away, thrusting and gyrating, eliciting moans and whimpers of delight from her as I did. My smooth ballsac slammed against her perineum with each forward lunge and she wrapped her legs around my hips, urging me on.

Again I reached the point of near climax and again I withdrew. This time I lead her by the hand to the bedroom, steering her to one side of the bed and then positioning her with two hands on, it her legs spread and ass up in the air, begging for me to penetrate her again. There were full length mirrors on the closet doors across from the foot of the bed. I straightened up my stockings then stood between her legs. My cock slid easily into her now well worked over quim and I began again thrusting away, driving deeply into her in this new position. We both watched in the mirrors as I slammed away.

We changed position one more time. Cara sat at the edge of the bed then leaned back and invited me in. I took hold of her calves to spread her legs as far open as possible, feet up in the air as I impaled her again. This time I didn't last long and as my hot seed blasted deep inside her she squealed in delight. When I pulled out she immediately sank to the floor and sucked me clean.

We tidied up some and each had another martini. An hour later we were at it again only this time I came in her mouth with her kneeling on the floor, her hands clutching my nylon clad legs. Afterward she went on and on about how this was even better than strap-on sex and she wants more.

Cara went on her way late that afternoon promising that we'll get together again sometime. She says she has a bi girlfriend she'd like to surprise. Sounds like a plan to me.