I come home late almost every night, tired from working all day on my feet. I close and lock the door, take off all my clothes as I walk into the bedroom and take a nice hot shower. Tonight is no different. I jump into bed with my hair soaked, not caring about the pillow's condition in the morning. I leave the bedroom window open to let the steam from the bathroom out. The cool sheets lull me fast asleep.
You wait about an hour before taking off the screen of my window, quietly crawling in, sneakers silent on carpeted floors. You lick your lips in anticipation, having seen through predatory eyes in unshaded windows what lies beneath.
You lift up a corner and gently peel the soft sheet off my skin, letting it fall in a heap on the floor beside the bed. You drag a finger gently up my thigh, as light as a feather. I lay unmoving. You walk around to the side of me and thumb a nipple, intrigued. Again, nothing. You undress while watching my breasts move up and down with my breathing, mesmerized.
Without leaning on the bed, you softly flick my nipple with the tip of your tongue and then wait, watching. You flick again, glancing at my face. My breathing pauses. This encourages you. You capture the now rigid nub in your mouth and suck, flicking the tip with your tongue, back and forth, back and forth.
My breathing quickens. You lean on the bed and switch your attention to the other nipple, eliciting a gasp from my lips. I stir and awaken as I breathe a moan, raising my hand to entwine my fingers in the hair of the man who gives me such pleasure.