I Miss You, MK: WEATHER REPORT

WEATHER REPORT

The first time I heard her remark on the weather was when she and I were at a coffee shop, sitting outside in the shade in the late afternoon of a spring day. Actually, that's not quite right; I think it was the night before at dinner.

At any rate, we were in a secluded spot, our chairs turned to face each other and our knees close and partially hidden by the table. The air had just a touch of chill to it. "Nipplish," as she would say with a smile and mischief in her eyes.

We were early in our relationship, learning about each other, gaging the depth of our potential commitment, relishing the depths of our mutual attraction and enjoying our time together-whether clothed or not.

I was thoroughly enjoying the fact that she was an immense tease, that stilettos and fully fashioned stockings weren't just 'Saturday night fuck me' attire. She was a girly-girl; loved long nails, high heels, real stockings, garter belts and corsets. 'Visions of loveliness' as she termed anything that caught her feminine eye.

On that day she was wearing an outfit that had instantly become a favorite of mine. It was the gray pinstripe jacket with a matching pencil skirt she had worn when first we met. It was a nice classy look that was just right for revealing her stocking tops when seated if she chose.

It had a longer than normal slit in the back and stopped above her knees. Sometime later she confessed she had done the modification to the slit once she understood how much I loved to see her from behind in stockings and stilettos.

Her blouse was cobalt blue and her legs were sheathed in silky sheer black fully fashioned stockings. Those delicious limbs were finished off with 'visions of loveliness'as she called them. A pair of 4.25 inch black patent leather d'Orsay pumps with about a half-an-inch platform to them. She loved the height the stilettos gave her and loved them more for the femininity they represented.

Her blouse had mysteriously become unbuttoned to the point that I had a clear view of her impressive cleavage. A hint of black lace was ocassionally visible and suggested that her bra was likely as lovely as its contents. How I envied it!

She sipped her coffee, legs crossed with a touch of the stocking's shadow welt deliberately visible, a heel dangling idly from her toes and a slightly amused look on her face. There was a smile in her eyes.

I was blatantly admiring her legs, my coffee long since forgotten when presented with such a visual feast. I really wanted to caress them, slide my fingers along the seam, stopping at the back of her knee - a spot I'd recently learned could make her wobbly.

As I now recalled, she had whispered a breathless confession in my ear the night before while we were seated side-by-side in a restaurant booth. My hand was under the table slowly tracing the aforementioned seam when she suddenly inhaled quickly. I didn't stop caressing but did hold my place behind her knee and looked carefully at her face.

She closed her eyes, exhaled with the most endearing warbling quality to her voice, "Oooohhhh....." She leaned into me, her red lips near my ear, "You're making......you're......the weather conditions are changing. It's going to be......be....very damp tonight."

But unlike her reaction that night, mine at the coffee shop was not so subtle, my cock was firm and getting harder. The white napkin in my lap was not providing the cover I hoped. A smile flicked at the corner of her mouth. I was certain she was thoroughly enjoying both my reaction and my discomfort.

Her shapely stockinged leg, the one with the foot dangling the lovely stiletto, suddenly dipped and the shoe dropped to the ground. Slowly, with more than a bit of drama, MK raised that now stiletto-less and sheer stockinged foot, placed it on my trousers and worked it under the napkin.

Her skirt moved and revealed more sheer stockinged thigh and welt. She kept this up for at least five minutes, maybe more. The last thing I was looking at was my watch.

"Mmmmm.....my, the weather conditions are......changing. Getting a bit damp around here." Her voice was low and a little husky. It was very sexy.

All the while she sipped her coffee, holding the cup with red-tipped fingers and leveled a gaze at me that held much promise and more mischief. Her foot continued caressing my cock, I was still learning about what a damn tease she could be. She maintained a slow massaging of my stiffness.

I closed my eyes, clenched my hands, trying to force out the images of her from the night before which blossomed uninvited into my mind. Her foot continued its mission of torture.

The memory I could not push aside was of her kneeling on an ottoman, clad only in coffee FFs, a leopard print garter belt and leopard pumps. Her 38D breasts swayed gently as she moved.

On that occasion she was supporting herself with her hands and knees. Her mouth, however, was supporting the start of a major orgasam for me. Her lips, her mouth, were encompassing my incredibly hard cock-something she was fully responsible for-as she moved her whole body in a sensual forward and back rocking motion that let her control how much of my cock she swallowed as well as the speed. The latter she knew full well would determine when I came.

Which was about ten seconds later.

She continued the rocking motion, albeit more slowly, taking less and less of my cock until just my head was in her mouth as my cock pulsed and the torrent was released. The rocking motion, her lips wrapped around the head of my cock, the wetness of her mouth, the view of her in stockings and stilettos, produced an orgasam the likes of which I don't think I had ever had before.

She swallowed, never breaking contact with my cock . She continued after I was drained and past the point where my penis got sensitive, involuntarily forcing me to shudder, curl my toes and try to pull away.

In a flash she had a hand cupping my balls exerting just enough pressure to convince me not to move. With my hands clenched rigidly at my sides, my screwed eyes shut, I rode the wave of an oddly intense pleasure I had not experienced before. Mainly because no previous woman was as interested in my pleasure as she was in hers.

The rocking motion subsided, my cock felt like it was spasaming, though I doubt there was anything left in my balls. I shuddered, took a deep breath, not realizing I'd been holding it and opened my eyes.

She was once again on all fours, just the tip of my cock held between her lips and her eyes were locked on mine. She smiled, released my cock with a flick of her pink tongue, and said, "Well, I know you said you liked horses, but I bet you didn't know you liked rocking horses."

She was clearly enjoying her goofy joke, but the result was nothing to laugh about.

"Trying to not picture last night, aren't you?"

Her voice broke my fruitless efforts to stop my own vivid imagination from recalling that event and pulled me back to the spring day on the coffee shop patio.

The smile on her face would have been adorable were it not for her silky foot firmly caressing my now very hard cock and the devilish gleam in her eye. Her eyebrow was arched.

"MK", I sighed, "please......"

I didn't get to finish my thought.

"Oooohhhhhh, begging. I like that." I swear she literally purred the words.

"MK, you've got me hard as a rock."

She nodded in agreement. Her foot did not stop for a second. I moved my hand to her calf, slid it down to her ankle and further on to her foot. I took my time tracing my fingers over her silky limb and came to rest with my fingers on her arch - a place on her body that was especially sensitive to touch.

"Mmmmmm", her smile deepened, her red lips parted wetly and she once again purred. "A foot massage would be lovely." But that didn't stop her from massaging my member.

"Ok. You asked for it."

I moved both hands to her stockinged foot and proceeded to devote all of my attention to caressing her arch and the bottom of her foot. Knowing these were sensitive spots I mercilessly and gently worked them in an effort to get her wet and distracted.

She closed her eyes while her slender red-tipped digits held her coffee, suddenly forgotten. Her breathing became slower and deeper as though she was trying to control her reaction.

I decided a little narration might help her.....visualize the effect she had on me. I kept my voice low and spoke a little slower than normal. I wanted her to hear and 'see' every word.

"When I see you wearing this....jacket and skirt, these beautiful silky sheer stockings and these wickedly sexy heels. I want to make love to you. Very slowly, touching a little here, kissing a little there, a little a la carte."

Her small smile widened and she tilted her head back to let the sun bath her face. She did not speak. But I knew she got the musical reference.

"I would start by wrapping my arms around you, holding you tight and kissing you very, very gently. A whisper of a kiss. Our lips would barely touch but we feel a firmness that reaches deep in both of us. When our lips do part it seems to take a year for them to separate. My tongue then lightly traces your lower lip. You feel the weather conditions.... change."

"My cock would be hard and pressed against you. I would 'see' in my mind's eye that you're getting wet. You would have felt the friction of your damp, uncovered lips when you walked into the room. It was chillingly erotic, sending shivers up your spine. Your nipples would be hard and very eager for my lips."

Her breathing was picking up a bit of speed and the foot in my hand was sliding less deliberately on my cock. My distraction was working.

"I would release you, clasp your hands in mine and lead you to the bed. Suddenly, I turn you and as I push you to the wall near the bed I raise your hands and place them on that surface. You would be leaning against it, your hands resting there. Your red-tipped fingers splayed out, tense. To your left is the full length mirror. You can watch what I'm going to do to you."

A sharp intake of breath, she started to squirm and wiggle a bit. Her silky foot suddenly pressed hard against my cock. Her eyes remained closed.

"That's right. With your eyes closed and pressing against the wall you know what's going to happen and you feel yourself getting more damp, more tingly, more excited."

"I step back. Far enough so I can admire you. The lovely brunette tresses finished in that classic French braid you wear so well. The shape of your hips, that beautiful ass, the cheeks I love to caress and kiss, the gorgeous legs sheathed in sheer nyloned smoothness and the lovely, sexy stilettos. The ones that make it soooooo easy for me to slide my tongue across your arch without taking them off."

More squirming, more pushing of her foot against my cock. My hands continued to caress her arch, her sole, her ankle, and the back of her calf.

"I step up behind you and you sense more than feel me there. You feel a slight tug at your waist and know that I'm about to unzip your skirt. You shiver a bit as you recall how I removed your skirt the very first time. You feel a bit more damp at the thought."

I knew that I had just set her vivid imagination racing as she remembered that first time together. I wished I could have slid my hand up her nyloned leg at the moment and caressed the dampness I knew was there.

"Slowly — it's always soooooo slow, isn't it?" I just knew that rhetorical question would further prime her pump.

"Slowly I pull down the zipper, my hands then glide around your waist to the sides and carefully begin to tease the skirt over your hips. You rest your head against the wall as impatience begins to build in you."

"You love the tease but it also frustrates you. You want the orgasam. The big, electrifying, rolling, overwhelming, wave of pleasure that cramps your muscles and holds you in a grip that leaves you spent and breathless. But you know that the tease, the tease is what delivers that kind of pleasure. And you know I am very good at helping you find it."

'You...you......bastard," she hissed.

That really hit a nerve. In a very good way.

She slumped down in the chair and brought her other foot, stiletto and all, up and into my lap. She pushed a little too forcefully and pressed my balls against my leg.

"Mmmmm," I said as I shifted her heel off my getting-more-swollen-by-the-minute-with-passion sack. "Careful there, beautiful. I'm gonna need those later."

With her head still tilted back and her eyes still closed, she moved her stilettoed foot up onto my thigh and pressed it against my stomach, then slid it lightly up my torso to my neck and toward my face.

I leaned forward, both hands still teased and caressed her un-heeled nyloned foot and leg and I stabbed my warm tongue into the space between the shoe and her arch.

She hissed a sharp intake of breath. I used the press of her foot against my tongue to slide that part of my anatomy across her arch, up the side of her foot and to her ankle. I followed it with many little kisses until she lowered it and placed the shoe on the top of my thigh.

I leaned over and kissed her knee, enjoying the silky softness of her stockinged leg and the view of her curvaceous calf.

"Mmmmmm....." her red lips parted just enough for that expression.

"So.....I ease the skirt down, down, exposing your cheeks. You aren't wearing panties. I get more excited at the sight. Just as you do you when you realize I now know you spent that whole day with me with no panties on. I really like that idea."

"As your bare ass slips into view I kiss each cheek while I continue to lower the fabric. I kiss my way next to your garter straps and down to the welt of your rich, silky, smooth, very sheer black stockings. Your skin is warm and flushed and I again imagine your glistening lips, soft, pouty and soooo sensitive. I'm eager to touch them. Caress them...see how the change in the weather has affected them."

Her un-heeled foot had returned to rubbing along my rigid cock but stopped upon hearing those last two sentences.

She arched her back, drew a hissed breath, shoved her silky foot hard against my cock and her stilettoed foot shifted forward on my thigh. The lovely spike dug into my knee, halting the shoe's movement.

She froze. Her eyes opened slowly and she carefully placed her coffee cup on the table. Her gaze lifted to me and I didn't recognize the look in her eyes.

"Yoouu, bastard." There was strength in her tone.

Her eyes suddenly twinkled. Her voice was low, as she feigned displeasure and she worked to suppress a wicked smile. "We're leaving right now! And you're going to put your tongue where your words are, buster."

I smiled, shook my head, reached down to kiss the top of her heeled foot and slid her shoe off. I scooped up the dropped stiletto and placed both 'visions of loveliness' on the ground behind me.

I had moved swiftly and caught her completely off guard. Her mouth dropped open and she was momentarily speechless.

"Not until I finish my story."

"You....you..." She sputtered, not believing I had said "no".

"Look beautiful, just sit back, relax, enjoy the foot rub-on both feet. And when the tale is told and you are very, very, wet we'll go. And I'll do every...single...thing in my story to you. Exactly. The. Way. You. Like. It."

She looked at me for long seconds, her expression unreadable. I hoped I had not made a big mistake.

"You damn well better, buster. You damn well better."

I smiled a huge smile. I really loved teasing her.

"Now, where was I......ah, yes, weather conditions....."