Ready for Him

Sexed up like he liked it, like I had learned to feel silken in. Leather boots to the thighs, velvet backless dress hugging on every curve of my full breasts, bondage belt ready for his grasp. Ready to play and not too nicely.

His painted nails scratched diagrams at whatever of my skin flashed exposed. He knew that I dripped freely, no panties to interfere with his fingers. Carefully trailing between the top of the boots and just right at the cusp of my inner thighs, his hands knew exactly just how much pressure I could take….how my tongue curled right outside my lip every time he put just enough in to make me squirm and rain more.

And when his fingers would slide out coated in me, he would slide that hand up along my back, and tickle my neck. I could not look at him directly, for that was a strong part of the game. Shift my gaze, look everywhere but at him, try my best to not squeal or gasp too loudly. Every inch of me throbbed, especially since I knew he was ready to burst….but not here. True, my outfit boasted what was on my mind, while he balanced a more temperate sexiness; our circles had come to expect that.

His control was amazing. His voice and hands and mouth, even his legs knew how to spin me, without creating much notice by others. I though, I had to squeeze tighter (which only shot the orgasms through me harder), had to kick my toes or tap on the table, which could be mistaken for impatient conversation, but oh…..if only they knew……..He was precise at which sweet spot on my neck could make me cum instantly………how he could lean into me as if brushing away a stray hair and whisper “I so want to fuck you,”…

Instead of guiding my hand to his erection, he would angle my thigh atop it….there our friends sat discussing art venues with us, just chatting on as I shyly bowed. What seemed like me leaning against him in the booth was really my dress hiked over my ass, and me achingly balanced against the pants barely containing his stiff cock.

Did they notice the slight tremble as I raised my glass to drink? The way I picked at my food because it was easier to sip than to eat, in between my shallow breathing? Could they tell that when he pulled me closer by grabbing the rings on my belt, he made sure to press the metal as hard as possible against the thin dress material?

It would be a couple of hours before he would bind me and take me every way he could, before curling into a deep slumber from having him thrust into me till we were both left raw and spent.

I would fall asleep covered in his honeydew spills, spooned against his cock for when he parted me in our sleep and we began again……