The afternoon finds you a little peeved at me. Just a note saying I would see you later and a map tied to a bottle of wine. As much as you enjoy these games, you really thought I had plans and reservations to our favorite restaurant downtown. You realize it's another year I've fucked it up. As long as you've known me now it's always a little unsettling at how I manage to skate around planning something definite then come through with flying colors at the end. It's exciting, yes and very much a turn on at the right times, but there are other times that it becomes frustrating and this is one of them. You had even mentioned to your friend where you would be and might have met her there. You look at the map. It doesn't even lead near downtown parking. Damn him you think.
Still, you are curious and that is your burden. You dress, an extra layer of clothes and cover the boobs just because you are pissy. If he wants hot cleavage then he can do things up front (a pun your mind doesn't fail to appreciate).
The map sends you around the back end of the Opryland Hotel and near the side door. You park (per instructions) and step out into the warm still night air. There are several possibilities here and you glance around to see which one might be the one I picked.
It turns out it's the limo as the driver calls your name. That brings a smile and a lessening of the peevishness. You're so easily swayed into adventure it almost makes me blush at my own audacity. Almost.
What it most certainly does do is cause a reversal of blood flow throughout my body. I'm imagining your reactions and they're almost exactly as I imagine them. That beautiful flush is blooming up your neck as the driver hands you a flute of champagne and opens the door for you.
Inside is a tray of appetizers and a picnic basket with a sheaf of papers inside and over the food. It's a story and you can't wait to read it. Curiosity, however, is one of your stronger drives. Fortunately this is tempered by a stronger sense of morality and fairness. One of your finer combinations of inner drives and motivations. I appreciate it that way, anyway, and nearly as much as your sex drive. Before you do more than glance at the papers, you are asking the driver "what's going on? Where to first? What are your instructions?" Nosy.
He tells you what he knows – which is not much. His first directive is just to drive to the mall and to not tell you any more than that. You are sharp enough that that ends your questions and you turn to the papers.
You get though the first page which is just a tout of all your qualities and gifted ways and means as told by one who wonders and marvels at them. The car stops as you are flushing completely, feeling the sensation all over and you look up to see me getting in the car. What timing – as always! Lucky me I get the benefit of the feelings you have up and down your body. The kiss, perfect as always and the feel of you so completely overwhelming me that I would have you right here and now if I already didn't have other plans for you. As I break apart from you ever so slightly and ask if you are ready. You whisper in my ear, pulling me even closer "yes". It makes me shiver all over.
Jessica, Jessica, Jessica. I take the pages from you and invite you to sit next to me. As we settle in, my thoughts running rampant and flying back and forth between chaste delicious teasing and bald sexual exclamation, I begin to read to you. A story of an adventure. Just for us. I've timed it to take nearly all the next hour and ten minutes and it does. It tells of the limo and the ride with your hands on me and the pauses in the reading for deep, passionate kisses and light roaming hands. It tells of sitting together so close that the electricity shoots back and forth between us in ever increasing jolts. How the nearness, the champagne, the story has us so completely turned on it would take just moments of touching to orgasm.
The story goes forward to the stop at Lookout Mountain and the picnic set up in the park. The wonderful talk about anything and everything. The gentleness and the closeness as dark comes. The touching and the talk while gazing at the stars. My hand in your hair and massaging your scalp until you need me so badly you can't stand it and turn on me forcing a kiss, pushing your tongue into mine and your face pressing into mine. The melt of your body and the way you practically take me inside you by grinding your hip into mine. I'm shivering fully now and so tingled and electric that I feel as I would cum if you touched me – and you do. Stretching your fingers out, you touch the tips to my penis and outline it through ,my pants. Your other hand reaches up to my tie and strokes it in a way so provocative I wonder that I haven't cum and how I could be so completely lost to you without orgasm. The moan that escapes my lips is a whole body moan. Torn from me by the moment, your beauty of self and soul, my need for you, yours for me.
The picnic ends with the driver giving a gentle cough to remind us he is on time and has his own plans and the connection between us is so extreme that to break apart and move toward the limo is a personal little agony we both go through together. My lips tingle and ache for you – a feeling I've come to know so well and so often. Every nerve in my body is firing and flitting. As we seat ourselves and set the basket on the floor, we are so close it's an exquisite dance of fire between flesh and touch. My hand touches, reaches and takes yours, our fingers intertwine and we're off into the night.
