The woman had it all to him: sculpted body, chiseled face, luxuriously long hair, long, almost witch-like fingernails, and an attitude that lent it's way to the inviting touch of a strangers hand. For years, she had driven him to the brink of carrying out his fantasies with and about her; opportunities certainly were plentiful, however, the wash of self-doubt and sheer nervousness frequently kept him from opening up about his true feelings for her. Sure, they'd play and tease one another, even to the point of light tickling and handling of each other's bodies. To her, this may have been harmless sex play; to him, each incident, each passing day, brought more of a chance to open up to her, abandon his willpower, and unleash the male animal. She oozed sexiness and womanhood like a modern Godiva, very much to the delight of his sexual fantasies and playing realities.
It was a rather nondescript late day, and the two found themselves together, chatting about recent local events while soaking up the decreasing sun. The mood was relaxed, calm, very much open. During conversation, she, as many women will do, often looked at her long fingernails, occasionally chipping away at the deep-reddish nail polish that he loved so much on her. A crack in the window of opportunity, he thought, time to comment on her sensually-manicured and lengthy talons, thus shifting the focus from current ongoings to her own details.
Such was done with ease, as he remarked on the color and shape of her nails, to her pride and delight. He was in agreement with her that such nails were, in fact, quite sexy, and long the object of his attention. The window of chance grew wider. Taking her hands in his, he gazed at those ten shiny claws and proceeded to gently kiss each one individually. Upon completion of this flirtatious action, their eyes met. She knew that he had designs on more than her wonderful nails, that was certain. Question was, what did he want, and, how was he going to go about getting it? Should she lead him on first, or, simply let him act out his thoughts, unabashed?
Rising to stretch her marble-smooth legs, she sat beside him as they chatted some more about her features, namely, how her body had arrived at the near-perfect shape now seen daily. Increasingly aroused, he implored her for a further display; gradually, she obliged, until showcasing her goblet-shaped, 38" tits for him. With her thin blouse now unbuttoned to mid-abdomen, he requested a touch, a feel, anything to get closer to living out his longtime fantasies about her. Uncertain at first, but, truly, wanting him to pursue more, she presents her tits in front of his face, and watches as he buries his mouth into her cleavage. Surprised by his adeptness at this, she sighed out in pleasure, directing him to continue. Internal fires raging, he ravaged her upper torso and tits, making a meal out of her natural melons. Her sighs grew louder, heavier, and, obvious to him, more filled with pure lust for this. His fantasies, so long just that, were coming to fruition. Could he control his more intense urges?
Deep in the confines of his fantasy mind, he had envisioned her struggling with him, then giving into his wishes. The classic dom-sub dream. But, wait, it seemed as if she was not only fulfilling his lusty ambitions for her, but, she acted as the initiator! Clearly, the dom-sub item would not be necessary. As he felt her body shift upwards, he thought it best to pry himself away from her milk-filled goblets of sex, sensing that to be her desire. To a degree, this was true. She did desire a break in the action, in part to ponder what it was she was allowing to occur. Not that it didn't feel good and stoke her own endless sexual needs; it did, and how. Quickly, she leaned towards him, planting a 2-minute long, continuos, breath-removing kiss on his lips. His lips and tongue took in the taste of her lipstick and mouth roof, shedding any and all thoughts of restraining himself for the evening's duration. This, he thought, HAD to happen. ALL of it, my way. Time to let loose on the wild desires. She'll understand. After all, he knew her wild side, so, considered this par for her sexual course.
Retiring to the living room of the spacious abode, he assured continuation of this lustful heavy petting and body play by halting her in mid-step, removing her already-open shirt and tossing it aside. He gazed at her now bare breasts, placing his hands on each one, squeezing and caressing them as she stood silently. Moving her long hair from her shoulders, she tilted her head back, fully allowing him freedom with her exposed upper body and inviting neck. He would not disappoint. Within minutes, he could hear and feel her sighs of approval and pleasure; soon, he thought, she would need to be in a flatter, lying position in order to be fully taken advantage of. With each touch of his chest to hers came more forward pressure, such that her standing balance was affected. As her long-nailed fingers pulled and tugged at his crotch, he let forth a gentle, yet, forceful heave, resulting in both bodies on the carpeted floor. She began to voice some uncertainty, along with pleasure, but, he would have none of the uncertainty portion. His hands grasped at her skin-tight jeans shorts, relieving them of her waist and crotch with one fell tug. Pussy, he thought, it's high time I get some of her sweetness.
