My fiancée has asked me to write a sexual-challenge-a-day for her. It's a great idea but with great perversion comes great responsibility - and a worry. What do I start with? Do I start slow - kisses and flowers first working our way up to heavy petting, through the various positions, then on to some more exotic moves involving toys and ropes before scaling the heights of multiple partners, watersports and orgiastic brown-showers? Or is it to be like a good mix tape - start off with slow kissing session (the equivalent being some classical music or ambient house, followed by a surprising bit of hardcore bondage represented in the mix-tape metaphor by a brain-damaging German industrial rock)?
For something so much potential fun I find myself sweating with anxiety. I should just chill out.
So my first instruction (to my fiancée henceforth to be known as F) will take the form of a sexy story which I then hope you, the reader, can help expand.
You are waiting for me to return home from work. Knowing what you wanted to do you selected your sexiest underwear - a black corset, lace panties and black hold-ups. In preparation for my arrival you stand in the centre of the hallway facing the closed door. Staring at the closed door you think about yourself and start to caress the material of the corset, running hands over sleek silk, loving the feeling as you put pressure on your breasts and then curl your hands onto your stomach. You savour the sensation, knowing your first move when I arrive will be to stand in front of me and tell me what you've been up to in my absence.
Gathering your hands into fists you press harder, down past your belly and onto your pubis, pushing down and in, over the lace panties until your bent, balled fingers are pressing into your already moistening pussy. Your rock forwards and splay your fingers onto your thighs, enjoying the tickling, sexy thrill which sparks fro them up and into you, springing your nipples into hardness. For what seems like hours your hands roam around your body, circling up, onto your neck, down and over your buttocks and back, balled, into your centre until you feel your panties are soaked through.
Fingers now stroke under the intricate lace edge of your underwear, tracing over your hairs and into the slick trench of your vagina, feeling folds smooth out and embrace your digits. As you r breathing deepens one hand replaces the others, tracing in from the other side to dig deeper into yourself. Bringing your other hand up to your face you smell and lick your fingers, inhaling deeply as you trace a tip around your mouth to leave your scent lingering.
Now the sexual tension breaks your control and you press fingers inside, feeling the walls of your pleasure give way. Pushing fingers in you want to feel filled, swallowed, whole.
You hear the key in the door, and stand there, hands still caressing your most intimate self, waiting for me to walk through and see you.
