Terri Phillips was going through her normal afternoon routine, preparing for her husband's arrival from work. He always liked her to be waiting for him when he came home. A little kiss to show affection and a martini waiting for him was his idea of wifely duty. She loved Paul so much; she had no problem with this old-fashion idea. So, in her best wifely manner, she awaited his arrival every evening. She always made his martini, placed it on the table beside his easy chair, and waited.
Paul liked to sit back, relax with his martini, and watch his wife as she prepared his supper. He liked to watch her through the kitchen doorway as she seductively paraded around the kitchen for his benefit. She did a lot of things just for his benefit; he was everything to her.
Even the way she dressed was solely to please him. Earlier this afternoon, she had gone up stairs to get dressed for him. She had taken off the shorts and T-shirt she preferred to wear and taken a hot bath in a tub full of luxurious, fragrant, bath-oil bubbles. Her bubble baths were one of her main pleasures in life, other than pleasing Paul, of course.
She laid there in the relaxing bath for almost an hour, enjoying the feel of the sensuous hot water and silky bubbles surrounding her body. The oil in the bubble bath made her skin feel sexy to her touch. She ran her hands over her shoulders and down her long slim arms; her skin was as smooth as satin. She let her hands glide over her soft breasts and down her sides. They roamed over her hips and thighs, slowing working their way to the inside of her legs. She slid her hands up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.
Her hands ceased their upward motion as her fingers touched the golden-blonde hair between her thighs. The bath-oil made them feel even silkier than they normally did. Slowly, her fingers roamed through the curly tangles of hair, as though searching for something. The warmth of the water and the silkiness of the bath-oil sent chills of pleasure coursing through her body as her fingers found that magic spot.
Terri began rubbing herself, slowly, ever so slowly, stopping occasionally to gently squeeze and tenderly massage the small, sensitive organ under her fingers. The middle finger of her left hand slowly began to work its way inside of her while her right hand continued its slow, rhythmic massage of the hot, little organ. Her legs involuntarily spread farther and farther apart as her finger probed deeper and deeper with each slow, deliberate stroke. She ached to rub the nerve faster but it felt to good to rush. Terri forced herself to continue the slow, steady rhythm, bringing her up gradually, but intensely.
Suddenly, her breath caught deep in her lungs, her hips arched upward, her head tilted back, and her deep green eyes closed. Finally, her breath escaped in one long, low moan, as waves of pleasure ran through her body. It wasn't one of those high-level, intense, explosive orgasms, but rather a gentle pulsing of relief and sweet pleasure encompassing her entire being.
She continued to manipulate herself with one hand and probed deeper inside herself with the other as she gradually returned from her private heaven.
She lay still for several minutes, not wanting to move, not wanting to spoil the moment. Her fingers continued their slow, rhythmic motion. It was over, but felt too delicious to stop.
Reluctantly, she withdrew her fingers from their precious positions. Thoughts of Paul flooded her mind with wonderful images of his probing and manipulations of her body. What would he think if he caught her doing that? What would he say?
Stepping out of the tub, these thoughts of guilt coursed through her mind. Toweling herself off, she was very careful when she dried certain sensitive areas.
Stepping into her bedroom closet, she picked a black, satin dress, which was extremely tight through the bust and had slits halfway up each side of the skirt. Paul really liked this particular dress. Every time she would stoop down to pick something up or look into the oven, he would watch for a great leg-shot. She always made it a point to do just that, and always in a direction to give him the best side-view of her long, sleek legs. She would stoop down, letting her behind almost touch the floor. The slit in the dress did the rest; the back portion would fall away from her legs and she would place one hand between her knees, pulling the front portion of the dress up on top of her lap. The final effect was almost overwhelming for Paul. Her sexy legs would be exposed all the way up to the tops of her stocking.
Nothing could turn Paul on quicker than this vision of loveliness. She always wore regular hose and garters, instead of panty hose, just for that reason.
She laid the dress out across the bed and went to her dresser to choose her lingerie. She found the black, lace-trimmed half-slip, with the slits up the sides to match the dress. She ran her fingers over the delicate lace trim on the slip. She liked lacy things; Paul loved them, especially, lacy things. She decided everything had to be black lace tonight. She got out a pair of black, lace panties, so thin and flimsy, she wondered, why even wear them? Paul really liked them, that's why. She dug out a matching bra, and of course, a black lacy garter and black silk stockings. A pair of black, four-inch spiked heels completed the look.
Terri looked at her nude body in the full-length mirror on the wall beside her bed. She was pleased with what she saw. She had taken pretty decent care of herself for Paul. Not a bad figure for a woman of thirty-one, she thought to herself.
She spent a few minutes admiring her body in the mirror. First, a front-view, she thought, not a bad pair of legs, long, sleek and slender. Nice knees too, not too knobby. Nice, trim thighs and round hips. A small triangle of golden-blonde curls under a flat stomach and a slim waist softly accented the meeting of her thighs. Her breasts were large and firm, tipped with dark pink, erect nipples. Her arms were long and fragile looking, with gentle hands, looking as if they always wanted to be caressing something. The fingers were long and slender, ending with perfectly manicured, hot-pink nails.
She looked at the face in the mirror. Her lips were full and wide, covering nearly pearl-white teeth. Her nose was small and turned up ever so slightly. But, her eyes, those were her most beautiful asset. They were large, almond shaped, dark green pools of sensual emotion, almost cat-like. Most men called them bedroom eyes. They seemed to be able to read your thoughts. Many men were uneasy around her because of those eyes. They gave her the look of a goddess, a look of class and sophistication. They were, without question, gorgeous.
Her hair framed her face with long, smooth locks, looking like golden silk spun for the Kings of the Orient.
Turning sideways, she liked the way her breasts stood up without support. Her behind was round and firm. All of this loveliness was covered with creamy-white, silky-smooth skin.
She liked what she saw and vowed to herself to always keep it that way for Paul. The only thing she didn't like was her height. She was a hair over six-feet tall, which she felt was too tall for a woman. She felt it made her look like an Amazon. Paul was 6'5", so it didn't look too bad when she was standing beside him.
She felt overall; she was fairly pretty and somewhat sexy. That's what Paul liked and that's the way she'd strive to stay.
She sat down at her vanity and brushed her hair. It was so long; she had to pull it out in front of her to brush it. It fell across her naked breasts and down to her legs. As it fell across her nipples, they were immediately teased to erection again.
"God, I hope Paul's in a sexy mood when he gets home," she said to the face in the mirror. "I really need him bad this evening, everything I do is turning me on."
She dressed slowly, enjoying the feel of the lace and satin as it tantalizing slid against her skin. Sitting back at her vanity, she put on her makeup. A little light-green eye shadow, light mascara and eyeliner; all to give more depth and accent to bring out the fire in her cat-like eyes. A touch of pale-pink face powder for a slight innocent blush. Finally, the coup de grace, frosted, hot-pink lipstick to make her lips look even wetter, slicker, and more beckoning than they were naturally, followed with a light mist of his favorite cologne.
She stepped into the high heels and walked to the full- length mirror for a final inspection. Everything looked prefect. She checked the slits in the sides of the dress to be sure they were straight. She needed to turn the half-slip just a bit, so the lace edge would show, every-so-slightly, through the slits in the dress.
"There now, everything seems to be in order," she said to the sensuous woman staring back at her from the mirror.
Walking down the steps, the sensation of her silk-covered thighs brushing against each other, make her feel even more sensuous and alluring. She adored the look and feel of lace, silk, and satin. She adored it because Paul it, especially on her.
Looking at the Mickey Mouse clock over their small, corner bar, she realized Paul would be home in another five or ten minutes. He was rarely late. Unlike his associates, who insisted on stopping by the local bar for a few drinks after work, Paul was always in a hurry to get home. His buddies teased him about being henpecked and having to rush home the old lady. He would just smile at them and say, "And your point is?"
Terri began making Paul's martini; this would give it plenty of time to chill before he came in. She decided to make two; she would join him for his before-dinner drink tonight. She really didn't care much for alcohol, but it would please him if she were to join him.
While mixing the martinis, she thought about the last hour and a half she had spent, getting ready for him. Making sure she looked as alluring as possible.
"Paul Phillips, you better be horny as hell when you get home," she said to her favorite photo of Paul, hanging next to the clock over the bar. "If by chance you aren't, Mister, I assure you, you will be in short order. Look what I've gone through just to please you. But, you're worth it, I guess. I usually receive a nice benefit from it myself. The end result usually justifies the means," she smiled to herself; thinking of the way Paul always tried to satisfy her needs too. Yes, their sex-life was definitely a two-way street.
A chill shot up her spine when an image, of the previous night's love making, flashed through her mind. He was between her thighs, the top of his head was all she could see of him over the tangle of wet, blonde hairs between her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat at the mental-image of his tongue flicking over her clitoris and suddenly, being shoved deep inside of her. Yes, he really knew how to use his tongue and exactly how to set her desire and passion ablaze. "Come on girl, get control here, you're getting your panties all wet before he even gets home," she said out loud to herself.
She took the two martinis from the small bar freezer when she heard his car pull into the driveway. After placing the martinis on the coffee table, she reclined on the end of the sofa, her legs crossed, allowing more than enough leg to show. Terri sat there, waiting to see the expression on his face when he saw her sitting there like that. She ran her tongue over her lips, to wet them a touch.
Paul came charging through the door, almost yelling, "Honey, I have some fantastic news for…!" He froze in mid-stride and mid-yell when he saw the vision of loveliness poised on the sofa. His mind went blank to everything, except her and those beautiful legs he loved so much.
"Well, what have we here? I come home and find this luscious creature lounging on my sofa. What will my wife say?"
"I think she would tell you to take off your coat and tie, kick off your shoes, lay down here, and put your head on my lap," Terri smiled.
"No, no, I dare not. Surely such a lovely goddess would vanish were I to touch her."
She gave him her sexiest, most alluring, come-heather, look. Her eyes seemed to pierce his sole, his very being. "I have a feeling the goddess would enjoy your touch anywhere you cared to bestow it upon her."
He did as she requested, laying his head on her lap. She pulled her dress aside so his head was lying directly on her long, silk-covered thighs.
He inhaled her cologne and the nearness of her body. He turned his head toward her so his face was against the top of her stockings. He softly kissed her creamy-white, bare thigh, just above her stocking top. Toying with her garter straps, he asked, "To what do I owe this great pleasure?"
"Nothing, I just felt like being near you this evening. I was feeling kinda sexy. How about you?" she whispered, sliding her right hand gently, up and down his crotch.
