God, He Loved Her Arse!

God, he loved her arse, the rise and fall of it, he loved it from every angle.

She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation as he extolled her to keep walking.

"I'll catch up, left my wallet in the car."

She laughed at his absent-mindedness, turned and he watched her walk away.

Any excuse to approach her slowly from behind, watching the hypnotic swing, how the fabric of her skirt flipped and played across her cheeks with every step, first this way then that, a hint of what lies beneath, right buttock, left buttock, right buttock, on and on and on.

Sometimes as they watched television together, he would just sit back and watch her. Lying on her side, the large red velvet cushions caused her relaxed body to undulate and accentuated her curves, the tiny waist a visual plateau above the wide sweep of the plains of her hips then the round, rich promontory drawing you into to her deeper, darker place. He loved to watch it move as she shifted position, wiggling and squirming to get comfortable, then settling. He loved this angle best in those tight low rider jeans of hers, devoid as they were of pockets or detail on the back to distract the eye, cut low enough to reveal, the small of her back, and so yes, sometimes, the top band of her white lace g-string.

Tonight, in a languid movement she dropped her hand to her hip and subconsciously ran it back to stroke her behind, brushing lightly with fingers spread she caressed each mound, long fingernails weaving a path to heaven and back. Such pretty hands, such a gorgeous arse!

He dropped down behind her and brought his lips to her neck just below her ears, his dark hair tickling her cheek. He took a moment just to breathe her in, and traced the line of her jaw with his finger.

"mmmmm," he murmured, "can you do me a favour?"

She turned her head to meet his gaze, his eyes twinkled but something darker, more primal, flickered and the stab deep within her rocked her, an involuntary groan.. Anything, she thought, for that look, anything....

"Strip".

It wasn't a request, it was a command, delivered low and deep, beguiling, inviting,. She trembled to her very core and rolled onto her back. And slowly, with both hands shaking, she started to remove her clothes as he watched her from above. Seated back in his leather chair, his gaze, hot and liquid dark, never left her for a second. Inch by inch of quivering pale gold flesh revealed, exultation palpable, his power over her, total.

He took her all in at once, his eyes everywhere, she, naked, trembling, acquiescent.

"Put your hands above your head and leave them there." She obeyed.

" Bend your knees up. Keep your feet flat on the floor".

Another of his favourite angles! From here, he could look into her eyes, watch her nipples rise and fall in the pattern of her breath and behind her ankles, the back of her thighs, a stunning view of vulva and arse!

In a molten voice, slow and measured he then began to tell all that he had ever dreamed of doing to her,

... how he had wanted to eat fruit off that arse, with greed and relish, to bite and lick, to suck the cocktail of nectars...

Her eyelids flickered, her breath a little heavier....

...how he wished to anoint it in fragrant oil, to raise it to the light, glistening and to delve with both hands to massage, knead it like dough, run the blade of his hand, ever so slowly, deep into her cleft and follow its valley path, to slip within her, further, deeper and deeper still...

She whimpered then, and tried to rub her thighs together, she was burning.

... how he wanted to rub his cock in that cleft, to feel the flesh give way, to part for him, to take the head and trace in slow circular motion....

She could stand no more, and he knew it!

"pleasure yourself"

Released from her invisible bonds, she threw herself over onto her stomach, both hands reaching urgently down the front of her body and she began to grind herself onto her own hands.

Never before had he seen this. A revelation and unsuspected gift, before him her arse, that beautiful, soft ample arse, thighs spread, to reveal the flutter of her fingers against herself, her fingers shimmering and honey glazed. He had no need to see that her face, he knew from the her moans and whimpers her eyes would be closed, she would be biting her bottom lip, he knew too that her long nipples would be hard pressed against the soft velvet of the cushion. The only thing he needed to see was her arse, a circular rise and fall, spread wide for his critical gaze, spread wide for her indulgence in self, as she pound and ground herself into her own greedy little hands. Again and again and again.

God, he loved her arse, the rise and fall of it, he loved it from every angle, and now, to love it in ways he had only yet dreamed........