Burning Desires, Secret PleasuresbyCherelleanna©
Hi all; I am new to writing for others, so by all means, please comment and tell me what you think, and how I can improve!. Enjoy this tantalizing introduction.
He had had a long hard day at work, and when he got home, all he wanted to do was relax. She greeted him with a coy smile, pressing herself against him as she hugged him, then stood back and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"well?" She asked sweetly, "what do you think?"
Placing his hands on her hips he took a step backward and took a moment to admire the view.
Her gorgeous, fit young body was wrapped in a tight, white tank top, the shortest dark denim mini skirt he has ever seen her wear, and a three quarter sleeve length button up blouse in a red tartan pattern set the outfit off.
He was willing to bet she wasn't wearing anything under it either...
"Sweetheart..." He murmured, pulling her close and gently nibbling her ear as his hand slid down her back to gently squeeze her ass, " You look delicious..."
"Thank you darling" She purred, rubbing her voluptuous bosom against his chest, and, through his thin cotton shirt, nibbling at a nipple. Suddenly she pulled away from him, large brown eyes burning with desire, but filled with mischief. "I'm sorry sweetie," she told him sweetly, apologetically almost, if it weren't for the laughter in her eyes, "but I'm afraid I'm not ready for you yet!"
"Oh aren't you just?" He asked wryly, reaching to embrace her again, but she lithely avoided capture with the ease of practice, laughing mischief prominent on her face. "Nope" she murmured huskily in his ear as she sidled up behind him, "I'm not. But maybe, just maybe, if you go and...relax...for just 5 minutes, maybe then I will be."
Then, before he could negotiate she wrapped herself around him and kissed him, long and deep, her tongue exploring the depths of his mouth hungrily, her hands gently teasing his flesh, her nails delicately scraping his sides, his back, his face until he felt a deep burning desire, then, just as he was about to pull rank and drag her to the bedroom, she slipped away, darted toward the back door, turned, and tossed him a key. "Five minutes!" She reminded him, then disappeared out into the dark, and into, he assumed, the small art studio at the back of the block.
Watching her disappear into the dark, he took a deep calming breath; the sweet vixen had most certainly made sure he was wound tightly, as tight as he could possibly be wound. 'No matter,' he thought as he poured himself a icy beer, ' likely all things considered he would be able to regain an even footing later.' With that thought he glanced at the clock...another 3 minutes. Damn. Returning to his beer he trued to forget the clock, but the ticking became a loud, insistent booming within the house as he tried to imagine what she was up to out there in the dark...and was she wearing anything under that tiny outfit? If so, what? How much? Just thinking about it had him imagining running his hands down her smooth, tan young body, grasping her firm breasts and kneading them in his hands, pinching her dark nipples between his fingers and rolling them, first gently, then more firmly, until he made her gasp with the pain, and the pleasure...
'Time's up!' He realized, and a wolfish grin spread slowly across his handsome face, his grey-blue eyes lighting up with anticipation and need. Taking the key she had so carelessly tossed him, he stood, stretched his well muscled form, and headed for the door, his mind already thinking through the endless possibilities of what she could possibly have waiting for him outside in the art studio. Approaching the small studio he noticed the lights were on, and dimmed, and excitement rising, he slowed his pace, attempted to reduce the amount of noise each and every step he took made. In his mind he imagined her, seductresses body draped across the lounge in the studio, or maybe stretched out on the mattress she kept there, for when she worked through the night, her red tartan top unbuttoned and open, exposing her lacy, barely covering bra...
Quickening his pace, no longer mindful of his silence, he strode toward the door, fumbled the key into the lock, and swung the door open.
At first the room was too bright, and for a second he simply stood there, allowing his eyes to adjust to the glare of the electrical lights. Slowly, as his vision adjusted, he was able to make out a form, kneeling on the floor in front of him, head bowed, back to him, hands cuffed behind her back and connected via a slim, silver chain to similar cuffs on her ankles, the whole arrangement pulling her strong, slender form upright, and making her arch her smooth, golden shoulders backward. Her red tartan shirt was crumpled on the floor behind her, and she now wore only her tiny, barely covering denim skirt, and her tight, low cut white tank top. Again, he found himself wondering what, if anything, she was wearing beneath the outfit...
Silently he walked up behind her, and reaching her, gently scraped his nails across her shoulders and down her arms, noting her blind fold as he did so, reveling in her sharp intake of breath, and the excited trembling that overtook her body. For a moment he stood back, simply observing her. Silently he paced around her, observing her nipples, hard and proud, standing out against her tight white top, and her chest, heaving with every breath she took, her firm large breasts moving in rhythm.
Reaching forward, he took one perky nipple between thumb and forefinger, and without warning, squeezed it hard. She moaned, leaning toward him, her breathing becoming heavier...'please!' She begged him, leaning into the hand with which he strongly held her nipple. Obligingly he applied more pressure, crouching next to her as he did so, and gently, lightly, ran his other hand up her thigh, under her skirt. Her cries escalated from simply begging for more, to cries of pleasure, and her body, previously still, was now trembling uncontrollably as she begged for more.
Lightly he brushed against her dripping opening with his other hand; so, his suspicions had been correct, he mused; no underwear, and no bra. Sexy. Gently he swirled his index finger around her clitoris, finger slippery with her juices, and leaning in, grasped her other nipple between his teeth, and gently bit down, sucking it in between his teeth, swirling his tongue over the tip. Realizing begging would get her nowhere, she urgently attempted to shift her body so his finger would slip into her, but teasingly he shifted it, and, drawing completely away from her body, he stood and stepped back.