It was not a dark and stormy night. In fact the It was not a dark and stormy night. In fact the night was bathing in shimmering silver. It was the kind of night where the moon shines ever so brightly, enhancing the eerily beautiful silence. The night was indeed warm, so warm that a chance movement of breeze in the stifled air was welcomed.
She took her strides slowly, making her way across the room. The moon shone thru the window, giving her the much needed guide. Her steps were soft and graceful with no sense of urgency. Walking carefully, she ran her fingers thru her silky long hair, making sure her locks looked good. Her fingers worked silently over the ribbons and laces on her satiny flimsy lingerie. All the while, a knowing smile never lost from her lips.
She knew she looked desirable, in fact, scrumptious for all she could offer. Her smile, acknowledging the fact she was determined to get what she wanted. Her eyes were shining with brimming confidence and her smooth gracefulness consciously exuded pure lustfulness.
Making her way towards the bed, she eyed the occupant intently. He, striped down to his boxers, slept face up, sleeping soundly like a baby. She silently hoped it was not one of those nights that he was really tired and slept like a dead log. Despite the warm night, he did seem unperturbed with the humid air. He was sweating a little; it was evident with the slight sticking of his boxers. So was something else making its way through the boxer. She smiled knowingly again at the tent.
She was happy to catch him at moments like this, all bared down and all ready for ecstatic fun together. She cast her brown orbs down towards her soon-to-be-very willing victim, mischievous plots racing in her mind. Smiling slyly, she knew what has to be done. Tonight, limbs of two bodies would entwine, drowning in the pleasure of ravishing each other until they reached the gate of seventh heaven.
Quietly, she bent over the little tent, placing her right palm over the peak. Slowly, she grazed the top in circular motion, carefully avoiding applying too much pressure, making sure the sensitive tip is massaged through the rough material. Excitement caught her heart. She wanted so much to grab and stroke the shaft within but refrained herself against it. She wouldn't want to spoil the fun just yet. The sensation seemed to work, the tent grew further, now straining over the boxer material, threatening to be let loosed. Seeing this, her heart did a somersault. Just a while more, she told herself.
The mop of jet black stirred a little. Her hand stopped and she focused her gaze until the gentle heaving of chest returned. The excitement is torturing her. She chuckled silently thinking how ironic it was to be tortured in return instead of torturing the victim. She continued working her hand, this time snaking slowly into the boxer and firmed her grip on the hot shaft. She was careful not to grip too hard and stopped her urge to start stroking.
With care, she grazed her thumb over the tip. Wet. Again, her thumb circled slowly over the sensitive slit in effort to excite the raw tip, juicing its lubricant. At the same time, her eye focused on the sleeping male, taking care not to wake him from slumber land. Carefully, her hand started to move in a stroking motion. A lazy, slow long stroking motion. Her effort drew a low moan from her victim, yet not enough to wake him just yet. Moving her hand upwards and downwards, she took opportunity to bent further and popping the tip into the cavern of her mouth. She can feel the juices even over the material. And the taste of it intoxicated her further. Another low moan. She looked up urgently but hand never breaking the motion.
She was so tempted to just stripped him of the annoying boxer and let his monster come alive in full galore yet she knew doing so would wake him up from the surprise too early. She must rein herself a little more. The waiting is excruciating but she's basking in it. She's could feel the sensation and excitement tingling all over her body. Her nipples harden further. She felt the tips straining over the flimsy white lace. So erected that it pained her a little. It's time to pay attention to herself, though much may not be needed for she is already deep in heat.
Slowly, she raised her other hand and took her left nipple between her index finger and her thumb, feeling herself through the soft laces. Gently, she gave herself a light pinch. Immediately, she arched backward, biting her lips to stifle her moan. Color rose to her cheeks. As much as she wanted too, she knew she couldn't risk moaning out loud teasing her own nipples. Tracing her breast lines, she cupped her breast and began to fondle herself, fingers slowly moving in rhythm with her right hand. Giving in to their slow and sensual movement.
