Rob leaned against the doorframe watching Susan vacuumed the living room. It was cleaning day and he had just finished working on the cars and was on his way to the shower. He stood watching his wife in nothing but towel and a smile.
Susan had pulled her deep auburn locks in a ponytail. Rob loved her hair. In fact, it was those locks, which had first caught his attention; lustrous, soft, and always smelling fresh. Susan's ponytail exposed her long sensuous neck. Susan loved to have her neck kissed and Rob loved to kiss that neck. His smile broadened, as he thought of the special place at the nape of the neck that sent shivers down her spine and cause her to he putty in his hands.
Susan was wearing one of Rob's tank type undershirts and through the white cotton; he could see that Susan was not wearing a bra. The undershirts wrap each of her breasts gently in a soft cotton cocoon, but not constricting. The shirt allows an ample amount of Susan's cleavage to show. Since her back was to him, he could only imagine her firmness, her large pink nipples starting to rise from the gentle rubbing of the soft cotton on her swaying breasts. His undershirts showed enough to be sinfully teasing but not enough to be seen through. Susan knew how the shirts affected him and Rob wondered if her attire was intentional.
Susan was sweating. Rob imagined the slight glisten of sweat in her cleavage. He pictures a small bead of sweat running between her breasts, using the pronounced tan lines as a road map, around the perimeter of her soft curves. Rob thoughts turned to a special very warm summer night ...
It was a Tennessee Williams sort of night, still, hot, humid, and full of passion. How they sweated. He remembered how she looked. Her hair was pasted to her face; sweat was running down her face on to her breasts then dripping off her nipples on to his chest. The more she bounced, the hotter it became, and the wilder their passion. Their passion and the tension of their lovemaking matched the thickness of the night. Their sweat was making them slick as if covered with oil. Their passion worked to a glorious climax lasting several minutes. She simply collapsed on to him and laid there, their sweat pooling onto the sheets.
WHAM!
The sound of the vacuum hitting the piano brought Rob back to reality. Lucky for Rob, Susan was still facing away from him. She bent over to move some pillows. Her butt never looked so good. She was wearing a pair of tight, gray workout shorts. Susan worked out daily and of all her features, her butt showed the results the best. It was firm and round. His mind wondered to a cold winter's night some time ago...
Post Card Perfect was the saying. A snow covered cabin in the mountains. Cold outside but warm inside and the wine was flowing. Susan lay on the floor, naked and relaxed from the massage Rob had just finished. The fire reflected off her smooth, oiled skin.
"Mmmm, Rob, this feels heavenly." Susan purred. "Remind me to nominate your hands for an award." Rob sat on the floor rubbing Susan's shoulders. He looked over his fiancée and smiled.
The massage and the wine had relaxed Susan. So much so that she did not notice Rob's aroused state. He straddled Susan's butt and continued the massage. Using a rocking motion, he gently rubbed the heals of his hands up her spine then lightly feathered her skin with the tip of his fingers. As he rocked Susan into another world, his penis just happen to fall into the space between her but cheeks. As the massage progressed, he was becoming more and more aroused.
When Rob was almost to the point of no return, Susan rose up onto her hands and knees, gave Rob a wicked smile. He knew just what to do. He pointed the tip of his penis at her womanhood and ...
SHIT ...!
Susan had stubbed her toe on a chair leg. That brought Rob back to his living room. As he watched her hop on one foot, he spied her long, shapely legs, still tanned after a summer at the pool. Those legs that looked so good in black stockings and garters, in short skirts, especially the red tee-shirt dress that clung to her unbelievable curves, and in her very small bikini. Those legs that she would wrap so tightly around him while making love.
Those legs! Long, muscular, smooth, with still a hint of summer glow, which flow like sand dunes, gently curving and rolling in the right places. Those legs that are perfect tools to drive Rob crazy, as she did on his last birthday...
He arrived home from work to find a note tacked to the garage door.
"My Sweets -- drinks are poured. Take off that tie and coat and have a seat. Do NOT turn on any lights or it will ruin your surprise. "
Intrigued, Rob entered the dimly lit house to find his favorite cocktail on the bar. He took the drink and sat on the couch where he found an erotic story. Susan had recently started dabbling in writing erotic stories and was getting pretty good. He liked it when she wrote because she would get so horny. She normally wrote in bed. When she was finished, she would sometimes masturbate or sometimes she would attack him like a wild cat! He started to read. It was her best yet, as measured by his erection.
He set the story down, immediately the lights came on in the bedroom, and the powerful tones of Stevie Ray Vaughn came from the CD player. Silhouetted in the doorway were the gorgeous curves of his wife. It was a scene from the movies. Rob could not tell what his wife was wearing but know it would be delightful.
Susan started dancing. The light cast a bright aura around Susan, tracing her "dangerous" curves. Glimpses were all he got. Susan definitely knew what she was doing.
After about 10 minutes (an hour in Rob's time line), Susan started to move around the living room. It was at this time that Rob noticed Susan was wearing a silky, black dress, cut high on the hip and low at the neck. She wore black stockings and no shoes. She moved more like floated through the room. The way the material clung and moved hinted at what was and was NOT under the dress. Rob could only sit and stare at his wife. She used her movements as a hypnotist used a silver watch. He could not move. Rob was in a trance starting at this angel in black.
She danced and danced, sometimes close, some times far, but always in sight. She teased, lifting the hem of her dress to expose a bare bottom or resting her arms on the chair so Rob got a look down her dress at the bare breasts. Rob was at her mercy.
