I got into the car. Said hello. Not another word. But my eyes said so much more. I restrained myself from reaching over the arm rest and getting him ready for what was already under way between my thighs. No. No foreplay. As hard as it was, I was on a mission. He was the enemy and I wanted to see just how quickly he would load that weapon up. I wanted to find out just how deadly he was. I wanted him to fuck me till I died. . . a slow orgasmic death.
In dead silence, we pulled into the driveway. Got out of the car. I walked deliberately to the door - making sure that each step made my ass jiggle, that each sway made my silhouette more irresistible. He followed. I opened the door. Maintained my stride. No need to look back. He was sure to follow.
I proceeded up the stairs to the bedroom. The cling of glass. He was grabbing the wine. "No need!" I said firmly. And he knew it was on. Quick steps up the stairs. He stepped through the door and there I was. Black stilettos and a trench coat. Standing. Waiting. He approached steadily, motioning for me to share the secret underneath. The chill outside had made me achingly aware of the lust between my thighs. . . all for him. I unbuttoned. His face lit up with a smile. He deliberately took me in. From black stilettos, glowing skin, wet pussy evident by the juices glistening on my thick thighs, round hips, tiny waist, to my supple breasts.
By the time he got to my pussy he was already saluting as if he knew the general was approaching. Three seconds flat. The closer he got the wetter I became....
To be continued...
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