I finally got around to looking for a picture of Sandra Bullock. I thought I knew what she looked like but I was wrong. She's got more character in her face than I'd expected. Wow Cubao! Do you really look like that Chris?
I have to see... I'll visit you in your secret place. I can do that because I'm a genie...Not like the big blue stupid one in Aladdin. I'm the sly sweet brown one that Arab men claim gives them wet dreams... So sorry Effendi but it's my night off.
Steamy, jasmine scented, the soft light from above your vanity mirror silhouettes you seated at your dressing table. The candles flicker and, in the diffusing glow, I can only make out the soft fluffy curls of your hair and the slope of your shoulders though your robe. I pause several feet behind you... My heart beats faster and my nipples tingle with anticipation. I wait as you shudder slightly, wondering if it's your imagination or if you've just caught a hint of something exotic mingling with the bouquet of your herbal bath and the comforting smell of hot wax. You toss your head, shaking off the thought that you're no longer alone. Still standing motionless, I'm hesitant, perhaps I should have visited you later in the night... slipped into your bed and given you a dream that would have woken you trembling with a handful of your own breast and damp scented fingers. But no lah I've come to fulfil your heart's desire. To woo you with butterfly kisses and sibilant words, wound you beautifully with my gentle fingers.
You should have seen my slender shade in your mirror Christine but you were stargazing as I slipped out of your reveries and into your bubble. You missed the brief gleam of candlelight on morena skin. You draw breath sharply, aware now that you're not alone. My perfume, my Shalimar, fills you with soporific calm. My breath's warm on your hair as fingertips brush your shoulders sending a delicious jolt through your heart and down into your tightening womb. Kneading your warm silky shoulders, feeling the trembling of your arousal, seeing your fair face dimly in the mirror, I whisper "Christine. It's time for your bath Mahal."
Carmine nails tauten the skin on the back of my hands... anxious as I cup your face in my palms. Gently, tenderly I tilt your face to mine. The last thing you see before my lips brush yours is the light of candles in my narrowing eyes. I love your mouth. Open it for me Christine... My tongue darts and flickers over yours trying to circle it's tip the way I want to lap your taut little pearl many times before the dawn. My fingers twine in your hair as our kiss deepens. You're hungry for me now... eager for the gentle rasp of my teeth on your lips and tongue. At last I draw back and gaze into your beautiful blue eyes... What do you see in mine Christine? ... Feel na feel. It's hunger for you.
Your eyes caress my breasts I can almost feel the heat of your stare on my risen nipples. Hard as opals, blunt brown teats throb as your mouth swoops towards them. I almost scream as your soft wet mouth closes over one stiff teat. Arms around you I close my eyes and absorb the warmth of you nuzzling at my breast. Your tongue flicks my nipple against your teeth sending little waves of pleasure through me from head to toe...
Gathering handfuls of your dark glossy hair as you suckle greedily, I twist it into a horsetail and slip a velvet band around it. If I looked into your eyes again... Saw the longing there, mirroring my own, I'd have to be rough with you so... I don't...I lift you gently to your feet and rest my cheek in the hollow of your shoulder breathing the essence of your hot skin. For love of you, I will do this perfectly, not miss a single beat of your heart's desire. I'm cruel like that. Not for you the mercy of a quick orgasm and a sisterly cuddle. Not for you Christine Dear. My tongue spirals slowly upwards from neck to cheek to ear and then as you shudder, I use my teeth on the lobe of your ear.
Shuddering you twist away and my fingers dig fiercely into your upper arms pushing you down astride the chair. I know now what to do... Pulling the robe from your pale shoulders I wrap my slim brown arms around you and feel the warmth of your skin on mine. A little sob escapes your lips... you're beginning to squirm between me and the seat. My lips brush your ear as I whisper "Be still Christine... Don't fuck the chair" Unsheathing your silky skinned arms from the robe I kiss the top of your spine as the material bunches at your waist. You've been imagining my hot little hands on your breasts for so long now it takes an instant for you to realise they're actually there, gathering their weight and warmth into delicious handfuls. I mould them to your body flexing my fingers in their opulence as my own flatten against your back, the nipples so hard you can feel them grazing your skin. You want to move. You want to come but you're bewitched... I've found your nipples... Trapped them each between two fingers and a thumb. The little circular motions and the upwards pressure of my palms against your soft flesh make you whimper softly into the crook of your own arm. Glancing towards the mirror I can see only the dusky double arc of my back and our heads together side by side. It's enough to make my moistness flow hot wet... I press my belly snugly against your hipbone nudging rhythmically.