Camillas Rendevous

She had intended to arrive at 8:45; now it was closer to 9:15. She ran up the steps of the sumptuous Santa Monica home and slipped through the massive oak door. The foyer was dark and shadowy; for a moment she felt like retracing her steps into the cool September twilight. Desire stopped her and she adjusted her fitted black jacket, smoothed her short, tight red skirt and stepped further into the darkened entryway.

Instantly, he was behind her, slipping a hand over her mouth and running the other down her neck to the taut curves of her cleavage. She could feel heat radiating from his naked chest and the hard bulge threatening to escape from the soft fabric of his slacks. "You're late."

"I'm sorry."

"We'll have to be quick. She's due back within half an hour."

He brushed blonde curls from her shoulder and lowered his mouth to her skin, tasting it, biting lightly. She let his hands find the buttons of her jacket and undo them one by one until he exposed her gorgeous tapestry corset. He pulled the jacket off quickly and spun her around to face him, enjoying the way the corset made her breasts into round, tantalizing suns rising over the smooth satin. Noticing the lines of the garters, he took her skirt and slid it down and all the way off. She spread her legs, letting his eyes rake over the red g-string sitting tantalizingly on her smooth flesh and the fishnet nylons she'd attached to the black garters. He drew her to him, his hands first squeezing her breasts and then moving down to stroke the corset's black ribbons.

Suddenly he grabbed the garters and snapped them against her thighs; she gasped at the sharp sting. Before she could react he was pushing her backward, releasing the garters from her thigh-highs, tugging the g-string down roughly as she reached the massive staircase behind her. He guided her purposefully onto the fourth step, removing her panty entirely and tossing them backward into the shadows of the hall. The stairs were covered with plush black carpet and, as she spread her arms and legs along the steps, the feeling of creamy skin grinding against rough carpet sent drops of adrenaline through her body. She smiled up at her lover in eager anticipation. He stared at her intensely as he pulled off his silk slacks, exposing his thick, rock-hard cock.

"Shall I take my corset off?"

"Leave it on."

He knelt on the fourth stair, one knee between her legs, one beside and to her left. She threw back her head as he guided himself inside her and began to move slowly in and out. She moaned, overcome with the way his size and girth stimulated every nerve inside of her. He pushed harder, driving himself deeper with every stroke. Just as she began to feel an orgasm rising from the center of her pleasure, he moved first one knee and then the other to the fifth stair.

The new angle let him get even more deeply inside of her and his cock pressed against her g-spot. She felt sparks of passion moving up from her pussy toward her stomach. Crying out, black dots dancing before her eyes, she came, hard, feeling herself clench against him as he pumped in and out. She realized he was coming, too, as he grabbed her hips and ground inside of her furiously. They exploded together and she felt the world contract and go momentarily dark with the power of her pleasure.

Breath, stillness, quiet.

He pulled himself out of her and stepped into the bathroom as she found her skirt and jacket. The antique hall clock announced the half-hour. He came out of the bathroom wrapped in a linen robe and walked her to the door, stopping to stroke her hair and squeeze her ass through the red mini skirt. She paused in the doorway.

"Say hello to your wife for me."

"I will. Thank you."

"Can I have a kiss?" He glanced out into the night cautiously before pressing his lips to hers. "Thank you... Thursday?"

"Not sure yet. It may be difficult... I'll call you. You'd better go."

She nodded, touched his cheek briefly and escaped into the cool California evening. As she reached the corner, headlights approached his long driveway and she recognized the dark lines of his wife's convertible. Hurrying out of sight, buttoning her jacket over the rumpled corset, she smiled and wondered what his wife would think of the red satin g-string she'd left crumpled in a telltale heap in the hall...