Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Boys and girls, here's how the pros do it.
I'm sitting in my den, drawing on my pipe, contemplating the universe. And waiting. Waiting for the lovely woman who has graciously allowed me to spend my life with her. She'll be home soon and I have a special surprise waiting for her.
At that moment I hear the front door open, and close. There's a silence different from her usual routine as she notices the three red roses in a vase on the table where we keep keys and such. I visualize her smiling, puzzling, opening the note leaning against the glass container.
"Go to the bedroom," it reads. "Take the roses with you."
I can make out footsteps as she heads down the hall to the stairs leading to the second story of our home. There is another pause as she finds the second vase, also with three roses and a note.
"Get undressed when you get there. Take these flowers as well," this one says.
That one stair creaks as she ascends. At the top she discovers the vase I've placed there, three more roses and yet another note.
"Lie face down on the bed, legs together and arms at your sides. You'll see where," is the message this one imparts.
I'm too far away to hear anymore but I imagine the rest of her journey. She arrives in the bedroom, sees the ensemble on the night table next to the bed. Vase, roses, note, and a blindfold. The bed itself contains another dozen roses, laid out in a rectangle so as to frame a person lying in it. I know my lady well and I can clearly imagine the delicate shiver that runs through her at the sight.
"Place the roses you carry in the vase," that last missive reads. "Put on the blindfold when you lie down."
My mind creates what happens then. I can see those sweet feet come free of her shoes. Her finely shaped legs appear as she removes her pants. That ass, so squeezable and lickable, is revealed as she peels her panties off. Doffing her jacket and blouse brings her lovely torso, pale skinned, narrow waisted into view. Her bra comes loose and those tasty breasts of hers jiggle free.
She pads across the carpet, kneels on the bed, crosses the barrier of thorns and takes the position demanded of her. The blindfold goes over her eyes. She lies her head down and waits.
Having given her enough time, I tamp the heel of my tobacco into my ashtray. It seems I can feel the jerk she gives as the sound reaches her. For all she knew, she was alone. I visualize the tautening of her buttocks as a clench of anticipation runs through her.
I fold my recliner up and stand. With deliberate motions I strip my clothes off. Then I follow her path to the bedroom.
I have to stop and enjoy the vision of her as I enter. What an erotic, sensual display she makes. Outlined by roses, her creamy skin shines in the low lighting. Head resting on a pillow, her dark hair flows over her shoulders and the soft cotton of the pillowcase. Her arms are at her sides, legs together and that beautiful bum adds an interesting divergence from the smooth line of her back. My already hard member twitches at the view.
Silently, I go to the bedside vase where she has so obediently placed her flowers. I draw one free. She notices the soft scrape of thorns against glass and I hear a quiet gasp, see her ass tighten.
Making no noise, I walk to the foot of the bed, reach out and run the soft petals up the sole of her left foot.
"Oh!" comes from her in a soft sigh. Her toes twitch.
I twitch as well at her sultry sound. I've heard it so many times. It's one I'll never tire of hearing.
With a gentle flick of my wrist, the stem slaps at the spot just caressed. The thorns jab lightly against her skin.
A "Meep!" sounds. Her body jerks at the feel. Reflexes try to pull the foot away but her discipline keeps her in place.
A deep breath fills my lungs at her reaction. My chest grows warm and I feel myself harden even more.
I repeat my playing, stroke and slap on the other foot. Her sounds are similar although louder and sharper, a little. The jerk turns into a tremble for a moment.
On my face a wide grin grows. I feel my features glow as heat fills my body. This is one of my greatest joys; teasing, pleasing this wonderful woman.
Now I stroke the flower up the far side of her body, playing over the soft skin of her calf and thigh. I finish by fiddling at the bottom of her sweet cheek.
Her legs cord, release, tighten again. She takes a quiet gulp at the feel of the bloom sweeping across her gorgeous bun.
Laying the stem against the back of her leg, I slowly run the points of several thorns along her pale skin. There's a very tiny amount of resistance as they try to dig into her flesh.
She draws in a hissing breath, not stopping until I reach her ankle. As I pull away, that air is released in a lengthy gasp.
A tiny tremor runs through me. Her sharp sound echoes inside, rattles at a spot below my awareness, brings that lustful animal I become in her presence closer to the surface...
(Extra-frisky wag of the tail to the author. You'll have to let your imagination do the rest. Dammit, there's never a tube sock when you need one.)