When you closed the door, you turned and pressed your back into it. With eyes closed, you mumbled, "Let's promise to never do that again, ok?"
From my seat on the couch, I laughed, "What part of tonight are we promising to never do again? Eat? Have company? Get dressed up? Drop sexual innuendos like bricks from the Empire State Building?"
You pushed yourself off the door and walked towards me slowly, "Oh we'll definitely eat again. And we'll probably have company." The shirt you wore, a blue blouse, was the first victim of the night. When you peeled it off and tossed it on the couch beside me, I knew it was about to get serious, "And we'll probably end up getting dressed up again for one reason or another." I watched as you knelt between my feet. Your hands, which seemed to have minds of their own, slid against my outer thighs all the way under my skirt to my hips. When you pulled me against you, I sat up a bit.
"And the innuendos?" The slight smirk on my face was accented by the darkening of my eyes, "What should we do about them?"
Carefully, tenderly, you leaned in and kissed me. You tasted like sauce and wine and passion. There were faint strains of music from an apartment below us...or was that above us? I slid my hands up your arms and leaned my head to the side when your kisses moved from my lips to the arch of my neck. I had to bite back a groan when your tongue introduced itself to the dip at the base of my neck.
Without hurrying at all, your fingers unfastened the buttons on my blouse. As your lips made their way down my body, your fingertips were feather-light brushing the fabric off my shoulders and down my arms. When I drug my eyes open to look into yours, I noticed a glimmer there and smiled. I wore that black slip of a bra just for you. Watching your tongue, pink against my pale skin, tracing the edge of the lace brought another round of chills.