Scarlet Noir

Sitting at your favourite cafe at an outdoor table, the morning sun warming your skin. The waitress places your cup of coffee in front of you and the aroma of it fills your nose, and even just that aroma is revitalising. You close your eyes just momentarily, to enjoy it.

In front of you, a short distance a woman sits, in a fitted black dress, that shows off her legs. Your eyes can't help but travel the length of her. Ebony curls of hair swept behind the naked lobes of her ears. The soft large curls sweep down to just brushing her shoulders, the cut of her dress, leaving them visible. Pale and milky, you might even feel a bit of a flush on your cheeks for having seen them, since you've turned your slow perusal of her into something of an eroticism over your morning coffee and paper, from across the way.

You look away to admire the surroundings as you sip your coffee and take to glancing at words in your newspaper, they just decorate the page, little black scribbles, you stare at them just relaxed and lost in no particular thought at all. The steam from your coffee, highlighted by the sun, revealing the otherwise unnoticeable particles of moisture, as they swirl and rise in slow coiling tendrils above the rich dark liquid in your cup. You fixate on them a moment and gaze off.

Again you find that your gaze has found its way to the woman across the way, your eyes resuming their trail. The soft curve of her shoulder to her throat, the delicate lines of her chin, and the soft swells of her lips, a perfect little cupids bow of scarlet. You can't help but continue your trailing gaze this time, and as you make your way up the soft features to where you were sure to find thick lashes, downcast to her own coffee or reading material....You find instead, bright sparkling pools of emerald green, watching you.

She merely watches, holding your gaze, and so surprised, you find yourself thinking you should look away, save yourself from the embarrassment of being discovered. Her eyes though are not judging you, nor mocking you in any way...merely taking you in, accepting you, and your curious gaze.

She holds your gaze and glances off toward a little cottage down the street and back to you. Your eyes instinctively flit to where her gaze was drawn as she smiles the most slight little curl of her lips and holding your gaze she nudges her head in that direction at you.

She hasn't spoken a word to you, but you know she would like you to follow her. She collects her reading material, and rises from her seat, this moment....right now, you watch quietly, not only vocally quiet...but your mind, your thoughts, there seems to be nothing else but this, holding your attention.

The length of her curved form, slim waisted and generous round to her hips and long shapely legs. Being a warm summer morning, her legs are bare and silky smooth. Your eyes travel the length of her. Down....down....down.....slowly soaking in every millimetre of her. Pale flesh of her legs from the back of her knees to the delicate lines of her ankles. Such fragile beautiful things to support all of this woman before you. You are transfixed by watching her as she departs and down to her feet, delicate beautiful little things encased in black leather straps, like some Grecian goddess' Twinings. Toes tipped in scarlet to match her lips.

So mesmerised are you, that you don't immediately realise she's watching you again, this time her smile more obvious as she departs and moves away from you now, down toward the cottage. Quickly you take gulps of your coffee and steady yourself. Glancing around to see who's noticed you lost in your daydreaming over the sight of this woman. Thankfully, all are immersed in their own thoughts.

You casually make your way down the street, half a block behind her to the cottage that she's entered. She leaves the door ajar slightly, maybe to let the morning air through the home ...or more likely you think, for you...

As you approach, the open entry, a soft beat of music spills over the air sultry and alluring, it beckons you in as much as the thought of the woman with the tips of her feet and lips, painted scarlet. Like the velvety core of a rose, and just like that the idea takes off in your mind, as you enter, and see her sitting there in a thickly cushioned chair, her feet propped seductively upon a cushion, and you are already peeling back the petals of her in your mind.

Flashes of skin and arched bodies bleed into your fantasy. Her emerald eyes, summon you toward her, drawn like a moth to a futile flame. She curls a finger toward you, and motions you to the cushion at her feet. Wordlessly, you are transfixed and drop to your knees at her feet. She reaches forward and guides your hungry hands to her legs, guiding them beneath hers.

So very slowly she drags your touch down the smoothness of her pale legs, to her ankles and she lets out a little gasp of pleasure that draws your eyes to hers, and you see her eyes dilate, growing somehow darker and more ...what is that look in her eyes...oh yes, you know that look...desire, hunger, carnal ...she's become your Huntress... She leans back now and guides your gaze with her own to her ankles, at the clasps of her heeled trappings.

Just then, the first word she's spoken to you, spills from her lips, the murmur of a siren as she gives you her desired suggestion...or was it your own idea...the word seems to melt away and become your own.." worship..."

Your own desire takes over at the idea, worship the beautiful pedestals that elevate this creature for you. You slip the leather trapping from her soft soles, caressing them entirely each in both of your hands, before bringing one to your face, pressing the arch to your nose and mouth, letting your lips meet there in that sensitive arch.

Your touch elicits a soft moan from this heavenly creature and something in you tells you to let go...just to let go of your inhibitions and your trepidations. In fact just to let go of it all, immerse yourself in the emptiness of your mind. All that matters is right here in this moment..."worship.."

At some point, her soft words spill over you like a warm mist, melding and becoming your own, "Let go, slip deeper, just worship, let everything else go, empty your mind. So content and happy to just be as you are, here, blank and fulfilled in worship.."

Your eyes slip closed and your mouth opens to take her in, lips close around soft round digits of her feet, and slowly she wiggles them, playing with your tongue in the warm wetness.

As you consume yourself with your worship, her other foot has somehow found its way to the growing thickness between your legs. Were you always exposed? No, you stood at some point and she disrobed you..didn't she? She speaks softly to you again, and her toes caress over your lips, ..it doesn't matter, nothing else matters, just let go and worship, slip deeper down into this bliss...

The warm pleasure soaks into your mind, you feel her other foot bringing you pleasure and then slowly your position morphs in a hazy sort of memory, she's astride you, "Is this what you want?..." she says lyrically, softly, questioning you, "you may pull away if you so desire.." she waits a moment, "Tell me , say "Yes Miss Noir..If you desire to continue your worship to me." She smiles and watches you with those deep green pools in her eyes and your wits come to you momentarily, you want this vixen, to be seduced, to worship..

"Yes, Miss Noir." you say clearly and just as the last syllable leaves your lips she lets out a breathy whisper.."Good boy....now drop for me...let go, let go of all other thoughts, deep down for me..nothing else matters...just .....worship....." She parts her thighs around you and sinks herself onto you, bringing her feet to your mouth as you lie back on the cushion. Your mouth pulls her in, each digit upon the end of those lovely legs, and you can feel the weight of her body rocking against you, pushing your cock deeper into the wet heat, her body arches, thrusting her pale breasts skyward as your mouth, your kisses pay her tribute.

She coaxes you harder and her inner walls tighten around you. She lets out a gasp, laced with a moan. "Will you release your tribute to me? Climb that edge higher...follow me up...higher and higher.." As she whispers in her smokey tone, you do....your climax edges ever closer, nearing to consuming. She cries out in her own climax, shudders taking over her body as she mutters to you, "follow me over the edge, let yourself spill free.."

So consumed in your task, her words seem to just bring forth your reactions and your hips buck beneath her gently as you do...you spill over the edge with her, and all you can do is moan out to her.."Thank you, Miss Noir!"

You blink heavily a few times and look down and a haze seems to clear from your mind, your steaming cup of coffee wafts it decadent aroma to your nose and you smile at the smell. You furrow your brow briefly and smile at the heat in your cheeks and the light exuberant feeling of sheer delight. What an amazing day it's going to be! You sip your coffee and glance around the outdoor seating area, and can't wipe the ridiculous smile from your mouth as you glance down the road, just admiring the view, as someone just departed and you hear the waiter call out a thank you to the departing guest, "Thank you Miss Noir!"

-Luciifer