The First Time

Do you remember the first time?

How long had it been since you confessed your fantasy to me? How many times had we talked about it, made teasing jokes, laid in bed together and whispered of our deepest desires? Tonight all of those dreams were to become a reality.

While I showered and put on my make-up, you laid out my wardrobe for the evening. You had spent hours picking the perfect outfit, knowing just the dress that would compliment my curves, the jewelry that would set off my eyes. All for him.

Your diligence was not unrewarded. I left the door ajar, just enough so that you could steal a peek, watch my smooth, supple leg emerge from the shower, relish the curve of my naked back as I finished my eyeliner. I pretended not to notice, but I could see you in the mirror, feel the heat of desire in your gaze, and it made me wet. Not that I needed much encouragement. This was my fantasy as much as yours and I couldn't wait to be with him.

I came out in a towel and you tried to appear to look innocent, but the bulge in your pants betrayed you. It took all my willpower not to take you on the spot, but I knew you would enjoy the anticipation more. However, I couldn't help but smirk at the audible exhale that escaped your lips as I dropped my towel, standing before you, fully exposed and without an ounce of shame -- proud, defiant, regal.

With delicate, almost revenant hands, you slid the black lace panties up my legs and over the curve of my hips. The matching bra followed as you reluctantly covered my pert breasts, not large but shapely. I could see the lust building in your eyes as you drew the silk stockings over my supple calves and thighs-- your hands trembled as you latched the garters. The dark green dress, almost black, a shimmering iridescent emerald in the light, slid over my feminine curves and set off my hazel eyes. The earrings were simple emerald studs and the necklace that you clapped against my neck was a silver charm, a stylized key that was a secret promise between us. Finally, you slipped on my heels and the tableau was almost complete.

You stood before me and leaned in to let down my curly, chestnut locks. Being this close, you could smell my perfume and it aroused you all the more. I couldn't resist. My hands freed your manhood and began to caress your length, teasing your passion and pushing you to the edge of desire. I love the feel of you in my hands, your heat, your hardness. I stroked your shaft, slowly but firmly, I might have given in to my own lust and let you climax for my own pleasure, but my phone chimed, interrupting our interlude, and heralding the arrival of my car.

I gripped the base of your cock, kissing you deeply before reminding you of our agreement. You were not to touch yourself while I was gone. A not so gentle squeeze reminded you of whose property it was before I kissed you again, sliding a single finger down the length of your cock as I released you and then took a step back. I left you fully aroused as I turned and slipped out the door, on my way to be with him.

Do you remember the hours that followed? You couldn't focus on anything as you wondered what he was doing to me, what I was doing to him.

You tried to pass the time cleaning the garage. Then your phone chimed and received the first message: a simple image of a wine glass on an elegant table with my lipstick on it.

You tried to watch the game for a while. Then came the second image: my hand, unmistakable with its perfect manicure, caressing a masculine chest. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the overwhelming mix of jealousy and lust.

How long did you pace before you moved to the kitchen to make your dinner? You must have just been finishing your meal when the final message came: crumpled bedsheets bunched and wound by the heat of passion. Your arousal was almost irresistible.  It took all the will you could muster to stop yourself.

You retired to the study, attempting to read, your eyes wandering over the same page again and again, your mind desperate to be elsewhere. You suffered so much as you imagined that hotel room. You could feel your hand on your thigh, reaching instinctively for your manhood. You wanted to touch yourself so badly, but you knew better. You had faith that if you kept my trust your reward would be far greater. That was our sacred vow.

The clock ticked past midnight, each second an eternity. Your eyes were heavy, but sleep eluded you. Every creak of the house, every distant car engine made your heart race, wondering if it was me returning.

Finally, just after two, you heard the telltale sound of a key in the lock. Your breath caught in your throat as the door opened slowly. There I stood, silhouetted in the doorway, my hair slightly disheveled, my makeup smudged ever so slightly. Our eyes met, and a knowing smile played across my lips.

I sauntered towards you, my hips swaying with each step. Was that the scent of another man's cologne clinging to my skin, mingling with the musk of spent passion? You drank in the sight of me - my dress slightly askew. Could you see the heat from his touch on my skin? When our lips met in a passionate embrace, could you taste him?

With hands trembling with anticipation, you retired to the bathroom and drew my bath, making sure the temperature was exactly how I liked it. You poured a glass of wine and let it breathe. You listened to me in the other room and waited so patiently, even as the desire burning within threatened to consume you.

I could see your breath catch in your throat when I entered the room. There was no need for modesty as we kept no secrets from each other. I let you drink in every inch of my naked form with your eyes. My chestnut hair cascaded over my shoulders, framing my face and accentuating the flush in my cheeks. Your gaze lingered on my lips, still swollen from passionate kisses, before trailing down the elegant curve of my neck. My breasts, not large but perfectly shaped, rose and fell with each breath. The rosy peaks of my nipples were still hard, betraying my lingering arousal. Your eyes traced the gentle slope of my stomach, taut and smooth, down to the curve of my hips.

You took my hand and led me into the water, and I could see the longing on your face as my body slid beneath the glimmering surface. But, you had been indulged enough. It was now my turn. I let my gaze drift over you, admiring your broad shoulders, those strong hands, the promise of so much more hidden in your jeans. You were mine and I wanted to survey all my terrain. I ordered you to strip and you did so without hesitation.

As you shed your clothes, I savored every inch of you. The muscles of your chest and abdomen were defined but not overly bulky - just the way I liked them. A light dusting of hair trailed from your chest down your stomach, forming a tantalizing path to your manhood. Your arms were powerful, the kind that could lift me with ease and hold me securely. Your hands, large and capable, were instruments of both tenderness and passion. I knew intimately how those fingers could ignite fires within me with the lightest touch. As my gaze drifted lower, I couldn't help but linger on your cock, so hard and desperate for release. It was a beautiful testament to your longing for me and it made me want you so much more. But our game was not yet done.

Do you remember how I told you about that night?

I slowly described how I had met him at the restaurant, an exclusive bistro tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The maître d' had led me to a secluded table, candlelit and intimate. He was already there, waiting, his dark eyes following my every move as I approached. I could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with desire, as I took my seat across from him. He was tall, professional, handsome, a gentleman through and through. He was a powerful attorney and he owned the room with his presence. He was a man used to getting what he wanted and that night what he wanted was me.

I watched your fingers twitch as I described the wine -- a bottle of rich Bordeaux. As we sipped, I caught my lover's eye over the rim of my glass, a silent toast passing between us. The wine was velvety on my tongue, hints of blackberry and oak mingling with the heady anticipation in the air. Like ou, he was already imaging how the echoes of the wine would taste on my lips.

When the appetizers arrived, our hands incidentally touched as we reached for the same morsel. The first touch of skin to skin was elected and he yielded to my desire, the first of many times that night. As the meal continued we made conversation, his voice was a hearty baritone and he was a fluent conversationalist, telling me the best stories of his cases and travels. He was educated and intelligent. Yet, when I spoke, he hung on every word, he was enraptured by me. I could tell you were the same as your muscles twitched with anticipation.

And then I told you about how he led me upstairs. As we entered the dimly lit hotel room, his hands found my waist, pulling me close. Our lips met in a hungry kiss as fingers fumbled with zippers and buttons. He slid the straps of my dress off my shoulders, letting it pool at my feet in a whisper of silk. I tugged his shirt free, my hands roaming over the planes of his chest as I undid each button. He unclasped my bra with practiced ease, cupping my breasts as they spilled free. I gasped as his thumbs brushed over my sensitive nipples. My fingers traced the trail of hair leading down his stomach as I unbuckled his belt. He groaned when I palmed his hardness through his trousers before slowly lowering the zipper. As his pants fell away, I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs, sliding them down his muscular thighs and revealing his impressive manhood, already fully erect and eager for my touch. He was long and thick, and I was almost intimidated by his size. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, stroking slowly as I gazed up at him through lowered lashes. His eyes were burning with desire as he backed me towards the bed.

From the my bath, I watched you begin to stroke yourself as I told you about how I fell onto the plush mattress, my hair fanning out around me. He crawled over me, his body hot and hard against mine. His lips trailed fire down my neck as his hands caressed every curve. I arched into his touch, craving more. When his mouth closed around my nipple, I cried out in pleasure. His tongue swirled and flicked as his fingers dipped between my thighs, finding me already wet and burning with arousal. Oh how I wanted him.

I watched your eyes darken with lust as I described how he worked me to a fever pitch, his fingers curling inside me to hit that perfect spot. He knew how to touch me and I responded to his every provocation. My hips bucked against his hand, chasing release. Just as I was on the brink, he withdrew, leaving me aching and empty. I whimpered in protest, but he silenced me with a searing kiss.

Oh how your hand began to move with so much more intent on your desperate cock as I told you how he positioned himself between my thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging my entrance. I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him closer. With agonizing slowness, he pushed inside me, stretching and filling me completely. I gasped at the exquisite fullness, my nails digging into his shoulders. He started to move, each thrust deep and purposeful. The room filled with the sounds of our passion - skin against skin, breathless moans, whispered desires.

The water in the bath rippled around me as I shifted, leaning closer to you. My eyes locked onto yours, drinking in the raw desire etched across your face. I could see the muscles in your arm flexing as you stroked yourself, your breathing growing ragged. I asked you if you wanted to know how he made me come, my voice a low and husky purr. You nodded, unable to form words. I smiled, slow and seductive. I trailed my fingers through the bathwater as I described how he moved inside me, how each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter in my core.

I leaned in closer, my lips almost brushing your ear as I whispered how his fingers found my most sensitive spot, circling and teasing. The dual sensations of his cock stretching me and his fingers on my clit were overwhelming. I told you how I cried out, my back arching off the bed as waves of ecstasy crashed over me. My inner walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper. Your breath hitched as I described how he followed me over the edge, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled himself inside me. We collapsed together, a tangle of sweaty limbs and satisfied sighs.

I could see you were close, your hand moving frantically now. But I wasn't done teasing you yet. I told you how we dozed for a while, before his hands began to wander again. How his fingers trailed along my curves, reigniting my curves and how he took me once again, repeating the cycle of passion until we both came again, collapsing in a tangle of ecstasy on the decadent sheets of the hotel bed.

I watched your face intently as I described the final moments of my tryst. How my lover and I had showered together, his hands roaming my body one last time, soap-slick skin sliding against skin. The steam rose around us, carrying the mingled scents of sex and expensive hotel shampoo. I told you how he had helped me dress, his fingers trailing along my skin as he zipped up my dress, a final caress before we parted ways.

Your breathing was ragged now, your hand moving in a frantic rhythm. I could see the tension in your muscles, the way your jaw clenched as you fought to hold back your release. I leaned forward in the bath, water droplets cascading down my breasts as I moved closer to you.

I asked you to beg me to tell you what I was thinking while he fucked me, my voice low and husky. Your eyes locked onto mine, desperate and pleading. I leaned in close, my lips barely grazing your ear as I whispered I had been thinking of you and the anticipation of this moment.

A guttural moan escaped your throat as those words pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, muscles clenching as waves of pleasure crashed over you. I watched, mesmerized, as you came undone before me, your release spilling over your hand and onto your stomach. I drew in an ecstatic breath at the sight of your magnificent climax. I could watch you come over and over again.

As the last tremors subsided, I rose from the bath, water cascading down my curves. I reached for a plush towel, slowly patting myself dry as your eyes followed my every move. The air between us was thick with unspoken desire and lingering tension. I sauntered towards you, my hips swaying with each step as your chest heaved with the lingering remnants of your pleasure.

Do you remember the words I whispered into your ear that night, the first time we played our little game?

"I love you."