Try as I might and as fleeting as it is, I draw the curtains to try and drown out the bright light streaming in from the gorgeous, sunny afternoon through the windows in my bedroom. So as it is not entirely dark, I leave the curtains lazily open, so that just the right amount of warmth shimmers in.
I lay on the bed on my stomach. It is his favorite position to find me. My firm and round cappuccino colored bottom is on display for him this way. It is my way of pointing the target for his aim. It is there I want his attention, and that is where he is going to give it to me.
The tanline from my bikini bottom gives him further directions, and the contrast of the slightly lighter hue of warm brown playing against the golden sweetness of the rest of me is irresistible to him. I know this and use it to just push the lustful goad further.
The small of my back, slim and tight, gives way to small and perfectly proportioned hips, giving a rounded outer edge to my bubble bottom laying here in wait for him.
I part my legs just a little and ever so, so that when he walks in he will see teasingly where my warmth is, waiting for him to dive deep into. I feel the heat of the swath of light that is splayed across my buttocks, a spotlight on the stage of waiting delights tickle my skin and send me to momentary joy.
The front door sounds open. I hear his footsteps walk in to my apartment. I listen to him slowly undress, the click of his belt buckle and the slow rip of his zipper. I envision his manliness growing thick with hot blood and building lust. I follow the sound of his shirt buttons ticking open and watch with my ears as his shirt falls hurriedly to the floor.
I lay my head down into my arms stretched and turn my head to the right, looking into the mirror next to the bed. It is my view screen of the scene approaching, the only way I will look directly at him this afternoon. I close my eyes swiftly upon spying the pleasure in his eyes as he takes the sight of my body displayed willingly in. I quickly devour the sight of his powerful masculinity, his golden sun-kissed skin, and his virility raised in full attention.
His hands begin to softly caress my calves, moving up the leg to my thighs. He massages them for a second but moves with an intense pace to his target, pawing my buttocks and gripping them with his eager hands, squeezing deeply as much as his hands can cup. He urges me to lift my hips slightly. He sees my wetness, and guided by it, placing first one then two fingers there. He flicks and teases the wetness and tests the growing heat that is beginning to kindle and stir inside.