I see the photo of you in the black dress and I imagine myself standing behind you. I reach around you and take the glass from your hands, offering it to your lips before taking a sip myself and placing the glass just out of reach.
I run my hands up over your breasts, feeling the silkiness of the material over the twin swellings as I tease your nipples gently through the cloth bringing them to hard points of desire, hearing your breath starting to catch in your throat at the sensation.
You lean your head back and I can smell the scent of your hair as I start to gently nibble your neck and throat. Pulling gently away for a brief moment I take hold of the zip at the back of your dress and pull it down in one firm movement, slipping it from your shoulders onto the floor. I can see the curves of your back as they blend into your trim waist and swell out again over your firm buttocks and thighs. The dress has slipped easily down as you are wearing no knickers and the only item of clothing I see as my eyes devour your body on their downward journey are your lacy stockings. Nothing else interrupts my view.
Urgent for the feel of skin on skin I reach down and roll each of your stockings off. Letting one lay still on the floor the other I take in my hand and caress it over your firm body on a journey upward over your firm thighs, lightly brushing through the trimmed v shape between them, upward again over the gentle curve of your belly. The feel of the lace fabric causes you to inhale deeply as the stocking runs over your erect nipples on its journey to arrive as a blindfold around your eyes. Tied gently at the back of your head, with your hair still cascading around your shoulders I ask you to turn around. Peering through the lace blindfold all you see is a hazy impression of my standing in front of you, not sure what I look like but the mystery adds to the excitement of the encounter.
Picking up the second stocking from the floor I pass this between your slightly parted legs, holding one end to the front of you and the other behind you. The lace of the stocking sits tight against your now moist lips as I stand up holding each end of the stocking. Your juices help to lubricate the fabric and I move my hands back and forth , the stocking slipping gently between your moistened lips. When the stocking can reach no higher, nor absorb any more fluids, I reach down, placing my hand across your aroused delta and gently squeeze your outer lips together, you feel the slight harshness of the fabric moving against your inner lips and clit. Holding the stocking tight up into your crease I draw the complete length of the stocking forwards, upwards and out of your lips and over your clit, the motion not ceasing until the stocking is at face level and you can smell the sharp aroma of your arousal in your nostrils.
Dropping to your knees you start to unzip me, releasing me into the warmth of your mouth. As I feel your lips slide over the head and your tongue probing the eye I have to withdraw with a shudder lest the encounter end too soon. Pouting you pull back and try to tempt me further by laying down with your legs slightly parted. I can see the wetness of your desire glistening and am impatient to savour you further. Your hands reach up , inviting me inside, but instead I kneel and plant a row of light kisses from your nipples travelling down your smooth belly coming to rest between your legs. My tongue snakes out and takes a first tentative taste of you. Liking what it finds it probes deeper, tasting insides and running gently up and down between your lips, lapping at you.
As your movements become more urgent I start to caress up between your lips and, with a regular action, start to pay attention to the little aroused button nestling at the top of the crease. With steady licking you respond by holding my head deeper into your crotch whilst grinding your hips. I keep my tongue running around your most secret parts, faster and faster, matching the rhythm of my lapping with that of your hips until suddenly I feel you whole body stiffen. Knowing the moment is upon you I flick my tongue once more, twice more, your whole body relaxes in time with the small cry that passes your lips.
I kiss my way back up your body until, like hand in glove, we fit together, deep inside in warmth and wetness I start to move. The memory of your tongue upon my erect head still at the front of my mind I move back and forth, more urgent each stroke, wishing to join you in the warm glow. Another thrust and there, I spill into you, knowing that this shall be the first of many unions.