Scotch with Ice

It almost pained me to pour the drink. Wincing at the crackle as the warm amber caused the cubes to pop. Swirling the glass, in a practiced manner, a few times, as my eyes became fixed on the silhouette now poised in front of the terrace doors.

The thought of scotch this smooth didn’t need ice soon faded as the scene of a recent event replayed. Taking me back to the vestibule, a quiet exchange of greetings. How she asked “Half day?” with a weary grin. I had nodded and offered a brief explanation. My curiosity as to her unaccustomed tardiness resulted in a groan and a look of minor distaste. A meeting held her after work followed by a Q and A session that she had no desire to attend but unfortunately had no choice.

Rising up on tiptoes as she moved closer looking over my shoulder, “Any regulars?”

When I had informed her “No, just a bunch of newbies I have never seen before” an expression of ‘ Perfect end to a perfect day’ formed on her face. In what could be called a pout she shared the fact that she did not like to drink alone.

“If you like….” I started carefully, “I don’t live very far and …” Her arm slipped under mine and I continued to tell her about the view as we went through the doorway.

Now, A half an hour later, stepping up behind her, bodies nearly touching, putting my head over her shoulder, so our faces are almost cheek to cheek. Hardly startled by my approach.

I extend my arm out and start to point to the south. Tilting her head to follow where the finger leads. In tones just above a whisper I begin to explain about the various buildings. How when night falls the Empire State will be shrouded in Red, White and Blue. How the silvery spire of the Chrystler building catches the last golden rays of the setting sun like a facetted jewel. How that sometimes the stars of above appear to be here on earth.

Silently she listened, leaning back into my chest. Instinctively a hand went her hip, her perfume, like wildflowers, caused me to pause.

Trying to draw her attention to the park below, I found myself peering at the silver chain nestled between her bosom. Feeling a blush take me as I realize that she has noticed that I have stopped speaking. . Clearing my throat, I mentioned that her drink was on the coffee table. My attempt to cover my guilt yielded a chuckle.

While she turned and walked away my eyes followed, watching her hips sway, the bounce of her blonde hair, the skirt just the right length, her sexy legs in stockings the same shade as her skin and those heels. Good God those heels. Dangerous and sleek, black and sinister. Each step, a click on the hardwood floor.

Taking a seat and her first sip, I made my way over. Sitting on the arm of the couch behind her. She moaned into her glass as I slipped my hands on her shoulders and squeezed. Pressing my thumbs in to half arcs, again and again. Rolling the pads over the knots of tension. Feeling the warmth through the material, wondering if she knew how the little moans are affecting me.

Deftly removing the clip, letting the luxurious mane cascade down. Moving to the back of her neck, finally actually touching the smooth skin. Fingertips first gliding up, before curling slightly and raking down. Time and again, inching, little by little, massaging the scalp. The base, the crown, the temple, each rewarded by a gasp, a moan, a weighted sigh. Then with spread rigid fingers, through her silky hair stroking.

Leaning back and resting her head on my thigh, as she stretched out, I spied her legs again. The sound of a shoe hitting the floor was followed another. Looking again I met her eyes. “You have incredible legs” to which I added” and I like your shoes too.”

“You do huh?”

Nodding “Oh yes, very nice…they have a very distinct descriptive name don’t they?” I felt a bit guilty for the blush that rushed to her face ,but she eased my mind with a warm grin.

As I got up she put the glass on the table. Sitting in the far end while she settled in the crook of the sofa, legs extended, her feet resting in my lap. Sharing another smile, gently taking hold with both hands. Her eyes, half closed, a visage of growing relaxation.

As soft at they were, a great massage requires actual contact. Her eyes grew wide when my hands slid up just beyond the hem of her skirt. I don’t know what was more pleasing for her, my boldness or the sensation of my hands all over her sexy legs stripping away the thigh highs.

Gripping again and lifting, kissing the top of the foot, looking up the length. Reaching under the back of the knee and pulling fingertips down, dragging over the calf to the ankle. Squeezing the heel first before driving firm thumbs covering the sole, splitting right and left at the ball.

Giving in to the sensation, tiny oohs and ahs becoming more common. Moving her other foot in a playful method in my lap, toes wiggling and gliding across the tautness on the jeans.

Along the shin, delivering kiss after light kiss, breaking contact only long enough to move up. Surrounding her knee, then passing. The definite texture of my tongue, broadly sweeping the inner side and a wicked grin forms as the result of her gasping sharply.

Searching blindly around the waist. Delicately undoing the buttons of the skirt, pulling it free from her body. Focusing now on the small black garment, all that bars me from paradise.

A stillness between us occurred as fingertips started to tug at the thin fabric . Expecting to find a tuft of the same blonde hair as I eased the silk past her hips, only to discover none. Pausing, breathlessly gazing at the bareness of her sex. So tempting, so inviting.

Unable to resist I moved in to kiss tenderly, and its’ softness was like that of rose petals. Sensing the growing arousal, trying to show restraint, knowing it is a losing battle as her intoxicating scent draws me in closer, salivating in anticipation.

Finding myself lost in the moment, realizing I should look up at her, but unable. Her taste, her searing heat of her essence, holding me utterly captivated.

Her hand positioned with nails almost biting at the back of my head, then placing a foot flat on the floor, gaining leverage, arcing herself up, furthering our junction.

Nimble fingertips part the dawn-tinted bliss, marveling at this sight, delighting, and nearly losing myself to the hunger. I turn my head, letting my tongue flatten and glide the edge along the folds. Licking and lapping, feeling her body shutter with each brush. Texture pressed against smoothness.

Dipping and delving, probing softly, going only so far before driving back up to the little hood. Carefully weaving a delicate dance of flicks and flutters over and around the tiny nub, now swollen and a deeper shade of crimson

Each nerve on fire as her rolling moans turn quickly to sharp panting. She was drawing close to what I had hoped would be the first of many this evening. Words gasping out, pleading out not to stop, to which I had no intention.

Her own words urging my own excitement, firing my own arousal fiercely. Devouring her, drawing her closer and closer.

Her leg hooking firmly over my shoulder as the other darted forward, locking out, toes spread wide. Her head pushing into the cushions, while her back straightened. Through clenched teeth a mantra of “yes”, being growled with each breath.

Rushing faster and faster, every muscle tightening in anticipation, straining up to that point, to that incredible point where she tips over the very pinnacle, crashing through the gates of ecstasy.

Dropping her hips down only to launch them back up, beginning to buck uncontrollably. Her arms flail and slap wildly while riding the wave after wave. Trying to match her movement, holding on dearly, continuing to tend to her.

The after shocks ripple through from her very core, traveling to the lengths of every nerve. Control, a briefly forgotten concept, seeps back. Slowing as she slowed, til she is still save for the even strokes of her fingers through my hair.

Pulling back slightly, rolling my head to one side, resting on her inner thigh. Peering up to spy a wicked smile. We lay there motionless until she moans in a rather satisfied manner, drawing back her leg lazily.

I sit up and lean back, looking over her amazing body, completely unclad, save the blouse with a few buttons still done. Silently, we exchange our grins.

Crawling across into my lap, straddling me. Grinding her bare loins over the bulge. Feeling her heat and dampness filtering through the denim.

Slipping our arms around one another, eyes locked, closing in, titling heads, angling. She pauses, lips trembling in confident expectation, sharing our breath. A kiss. Then another. Her hunger fueled by the taste of herself so rich and fresh upon me. Soft suckling and savoring, lips clamping and tugging at each other.

Shifting beneath her as she gyrates, the jeans becoming painfully tight. Her hands cradling my head, while mine come around front and glide along the bountiful curves of her bosom, poised to cup. Carefully placing her hands firmly on each shoulder, suddenly shoving me back at arm length. A smile spawned with wicked desire formed upon her lips.

Easing off the couch, she steps into her heels, and starts down the hallway heading for the bedroom. Immediately I rise and follow, watching her saunter, shirttails swaying with her hips, never taking my eyes from her. The sudden drop of the blouse off of her shoulders surprised me, but not enough to cause me to slow my follow pursuit.

Each step yielded a click, but mesmerized by the scene before me, I hardly heard them. Stopping at my desk, standing in front of the computer, she looked back over her shoulder.” Is this where you write them?” in a throaty voice. All I could do was nod.

She beckoned me over, placing me with my back to the furniture. Down she went in to a deep squatting position, knees angled outwardly, resting on her haunch, back still quite straight, and the way her bosom, so fully and firm stood out. Nipples already amply stiffened.

I leaned back in disbelief of the display before me. She seemed so determined, so focused; I had no choice but to watch in awe. Hands pulled the shirttails free. Undoing the belt buckle, then palming the length that pressed against the material. Button and zipper next fell prey to the nimbleness. Gripping both boxer and trouser at the side she pulls them down evenly, licking her lips at the sight of the thick arousal when it sprang out.

Bringing her face in, breathing in my scent, forgetting my eyes upon her. Raking her fingernails gently along the inner side of my thigh, then the underside, even to the ever-tightening sac. The sensations caused me to grip the edge of the desk. Turning her attention over to the shaft and head that swells at her touch.

Arching my hips, the waves of her short hot breaths pouring over my bare skin. Staring as her head dips and careens, her nose brushing front tip to base, her fingers curling and tugging. Putting the head at her lips now tensed and firm, resisting at first, her jaw eases. Parting to let the crown pass, only so far, lips pursed over and held in place. Darting out to lick, tasting the saltiness. The wood at the edge groans, as my grip becomes taut, inspired by this she continues with great vigor. Taking hold with two fingers at the base, gliding back and forth while the other hand drifts over her form, teasing and playing. Rubbing the nipple firmly, toggling and pulling, then snaking down through the valley of her bosom, driving between the very pass to her essence.

Gritting my teeth as she pleasured the both of us, as her moans carried through me, vibrating in my very loins, causing to rise up further to the balls of my feet. Pulling free from me for a moment to glare up, hands still pumping, and the sounds of slick flesh slipping and slamming. “I wonder if you will write of this.” From behind a crooked smile.

More stunned than shocked, I was at a loss for words, not that I could have spoken anyway. She rose and quickly climbed on the bed, going straight to all fours, peering back again from over her shoulder she purred ”Time for you to shock me.”

Stepping out of the garments gathered at my ankles, and ridding myself of the shirt, I delighted at her moans at the sight of my stripped body, so ready so excited for her. Parting her knees further, letting her head sink down to rest upon her hands while her pushing her bottom up at me as I approached.

Pressing open palms to the smooth skin, curling fingertips at the curve the cheeks parting and spreading them slightly. Spying down to see her already glistening, making my thirst for her greater. Instead I did what she bade me to do, to shock her.

Bringing myself to one knee behind her, careful to avoid the tips of those wicked heels as she churned her ankles with eagerness. Feathering the end of my tongue around and along the very rim of the tiny pink puckered hole so tightly clenched just above her sex.

A sharp gasp followed by long “oooooooohhhhhh” indicated that I had her attention. Continuing, circling, tracing, taking little licks and long swipes. Using the tip the edge and the broadness to coat and cover, to tease and play. She pulled a pillow to her face to muffle the guttural cries. Pushing her backside at me grinding her hips, when the tips started to probe the tiny hole.

Reaching under with a free hand, stroking her softness, as she had been only moments before. Her arousal coating my touch with hot silkiness. I pulled at the lips tenderly, parting the pass, to find the clit. Straddling the bulbous delight between two fingers, riding back over it again and again. Moans, whimpers, tiny cries even the growls muddle and run into each as the sensations come form all sides.

Finding the tightness yield just enough to press the very tip in, so rigid and hard. Curling the point, hooking the inner wall, rolling my head right and left, working my way further The soft pink probe from my mouth, pressing in, wriggling deeper.

Her hand now out stretched, slapping and clawing at the sheets. Slipping my middle finger into the folds, now finger and tongue pumping in alternating strokes, the passes felt through the membrane between the two. Her cries become louder and louder as I can feel that she is going to climax again.

Bracing myself, as I did before and ride her spasms and quivering, my face coated with her sweetness. Her body now, collapsed and shaking as the aftershocks takes their toll.

Getting up, I roll her over to face her. Breathing hard with a grin I will keep with me for some time. Looking as if surprised by my aggression she watched with anticipation.

Laying over her, my hardness more than evident. The aching in me taking over, letting myself giving in to my wants, primal and raw and she sees it too.

Hands planted firmly on the bed as I make my first contact. The way her body jolted, the soft but sharp intake, how we looked at each other, feeling her leg come up and curl over my hip, drawing me in. Letting the tip first brush and glide over the dampness, almost teasing but her impatience was growing as mine was. With a whimper she reached down to guide me. Pushing slowly, feeling the tightness and resistance of the outer then inner walls give way. Enveloping just the head at first, never taking my eyes from her visage.

Drawing back, easing in, the dance continued. Cries and moans uttered, and slipped free from us both as we went on. Like a piston, plunging again and again gripped in her most intimate, the friction building.

Her nails, clawing lightly at my back, leaving soft red marks. Legs lifted up and back launching myself in, hips grinding between thrusts. One of her heels is flung off. Our faces contort to the impending release, Soundlessly she cries to me and I can take no more. The last few thrusts managed with all of my stamina, just enough to carry us both over, clung in an embrace of locked muscles and pounding hearts. Our release sending us reeling, contraction after contraction deep with in our loins. Her walls squeezing and milking me, pulling from me every ounce of my strength.

Collapsing, bodies pressed together, smiles of deep perverse satisfaction form. A deep labored sigh is finally let loose, as the trembling in me finally comes to a stop. My heart pounding against hers, slowing, her fingers softly stroking my hair. Feeling myself drift off.

The soft glow of dawn gently brought me from my slumber, only to find a note on the pillow. ‘Thanks for the drink’ with a set of lips prints just below.”P.S. Thanks for showing me how those shoes got such a distinctive name.”