She called me, sounding desperate. I was surprised to hear from her. It had been a while since we last talked. She asked me to come over. Said that she had to talk to me, but wanted it to be face to face. On my way to her house, I wondered what was so important that she couldn't say over the phone.
I walked up to her porch, noticing that her blinds were lowered and closed. I heard her voice call me to enter. I came into the living room, and took off my shoes; setting them by the door. It was lit with candles, casting a soft light everywhere. She came from the hallway, dressed in a dark blue silk gown and black thigh highs.
She knew that I loved to see her in lingerie. Her skin is as pale as mine, but has cool tones to match her raven, blue-black hair. Her hair is sleek and long, but tonight it is piled up on her head in an intricate knot. She has it held in place with hair sticks; the crystals dangling from the ends of them refract the candlelight, and throw prisms everywhere.
I was irritated that she wasn't honest with me. I had made it clear to her that it was a desired trait in my lovers. I knew my displeasure was written on my face. I wasn't interested in hiding it. "Why the subterfuge," I asked.
She looked down at the ground, and considered her answer. I walked over to her, placed my thumb on her chin and my hand on the side of her throat. I pushed up, forcing her eyes to mine. "I asked you a question. I expect an answer."
I could smell her arousal. It always reminded me of apricot nectar. My nostrils flared as I breathed her in more deeply. I could feel my anger subsiding, as my own desire made itself known. "I wasn't sure that you would come."
Her pink lips parted under my scrutiny. Her black, almond shaped eyes searched mine. "Take it off." She unties her robe, letting it fall to the ground.
She is a delicious fantasy in dark blue satin and black lace. Her small breasts are pushed up and out by a demi bra that barely covers her nipples. Her string bikini sits on delicately rounded hips. The ribbons from her garter belt holds her thigh highs up. I pull the ribbon with my finger, letting it snap back into place.
I reach my hand down, and slide my fingers over her panties. They are damp. It excites me, and I push in a little bit to tease her. She pushes herself against my hand wanting more. "No, I think that you will have to show me how much you want it."
I remove my hands from her. She steps closer to me. I feel her hands at my jeans undoing the button and zipper. Her hands are small, but her fingers are deft. She pushes my jeans down to the ground. As I step out of them, she bends down to grab them, and swipes at my clit with her tongue. "Soon enough, you will be able to have all you want of that."
As she folds my jeans, I take my shirt and bra off. I hand them to her, watching her make quick work of the task. She sets them on the table by the door. "Please sit down," she says, as she indicates the floor in front of the couch. The carpet is soft against my skin, and the couch's heavy cushions are comfortable to rest against.
I crook my finger at her. She kneels in front of me. I reach behind her, and undo the clasp of her bra. As it falls down her shoulders, her breasts bounce like they are happy to be free of their confinement. I lick her delicate nipples, as I slide her bra from her arms. I put it on the couch behind me.
I lick her nipples, and undo the straps of her garter. They tighten against my tongue. I trace circles around them as I undo her garter belt. Her stockings slide down her legs gracefully, and she pulls them off. I let her breasts fill my hands, and suckle them until she gets all squirmy. I have forgiven her, but I will exact a price for her transgression.
I gently drag my nails under her breasts as I take my hands away from her. I cup her pussy with my hand, and massage it. The scent of warm, liquid apricots greets my nostrils. I can feel my own pussy get puffy and wanting.