The Doctor Muses: A One Night Quickie

[dr_mabeuse]

Here is the ultra suave and debonaire, wealthy international playboy and bon vivant, Dr. Mabeuse, standing alone on the balcony of his penthouse Fortress of Ineptitude, watching the melacholy December sun sink intro the golden west, and pensively musing over the dissatisfactions of his colorful life:
"God I wish i could get laid!"

The lights of the city wink on below him as he tightens the belt on his satin smoking jacket and muses on the vagaries of fame and wealth, knocking his sophisticated cocktail to the streets below as he does so. The raw december wind whips through his sophisticated beard and brings a rosy glow to his chiselled profile as he flexes the sculpted muscles of his manly torso and ponders whether learning to play the zither would help soothe the savage need in his breast.

No, for his penthouse hideaway is in fact filled with zithers, but even a million zithers cannot quench the gnawing loneliness he feels, nor stem that stuff that seems to be dripping from his nose.

"No, my fame has brought me riches beyond compare, the adoration of the masses, tee-shirts from throughout the world, and one of those things that look like a lawn mower that you ride around on that are supposed to be so cool, but what I crave--what my soul yearns for--is the touch of a perverse and filthy woman in six-inch heels, seemed stockings and a latex cat-suit who keeps her birth control pills in a tic-tac case and carries mace in case some guy gets fresh!"

And as he wipes his nose on the wnd-blown canopy of his exclusive penthouse and turns to go inside, he stops, pauses dramatically, and whines, "All I want is a quick and filthy night of sex with no strings and no diseases attached with a gorgeous woman who seeks to be placed on a symbolic pedestal and treated to a sequence of orgasms of increasing intensity leading finally to a transcendent spiritual-sexual experience, after which we'll see what's on TV. Is that too much to ask, ye Gods of Friday night?"

Are there no women willing to take him up on his offer?

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"God I wish i could get laid!"

Wouldn't we all doc!

::laffs::

DM

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Nadia

I sipped my dry martini and played idly with a book of matches in my hand.

I knew he lived here, in the pent house.
For all his fame and fortune, he always seemed remote.
He was such a contradiction, I couldn't help but becurious.
What made a man like that tick?
Once in his penthouse, he was almost a recluse.
Or was he just damn secretive?
I just had to find out more about the man who had taken over my thoughts. I just couldn't get him out of my head!

It's not as if I was stupid, naive or impressionable.
I was an astute girl at home in the Big Town.
I knew the scene and knew the score.
I glance out of the window:
It was Friday night and already the streets were filling up with people who were out to see and be seen.
Everyone knew it was all about image.
It was all about getting yourself out there, that was important.

I sipped my drink and glanced over at the lift.
I had seen his name in the papers many times.
He was someone who "got out there", got out there as much as anyone, but when he did, he did it with style.
I knew he was notorious for throwing his money around, for living life to the full, but behind it all, although he played the game, from what I'd read, from what I'd seen, I guessed that he didn’t give a damn.
He didn’t seem to care what people thought.
He was a self-made man and needed to impress no one.
The only person he had to please was himself.
Perhaps it was that fact, which so fascinated me?

Finishing my drink, I turned the matchbook over in my hand and pulled out all but one of the matches before slipping off the barstool and making my way to the plush elevator at the corner of the lobby. I waited mere seconds before the doors smoothly opened, then, stepping in, I pressed the button, which would ensure that I was taken swiftly up to the penthouse floor.

The man was enigmatic. Always immaculately turned out.
He was amazingly handsome, but his looks were rugged rather than cosmetic.
The aura he exuded came from deep within.
“A real man”
The mere thought made me heated, as the doors swung open.
He was what I wanted and what I needed.

Slowly I stepped up to the heavy door, my tread was silent in the heavy pile of the carpet. I wondered briefly what the hell I was doing, but held my nerve and knocked firmly on the wooden panelled door.
I knew he would see through any carefully engineered pretext to see him.
Rightly or wrongly, I had guessed that he would despise all that falsehood. Finally I had decided which approach to use:
My reason intruding was to be so transparently false that he would be left in no doubt as to the real reason for my appearance at his door on this Friday evening.
The choice was then his. He could either invite me in or dismiss me.

Again I knocked.

Hearing nothing through the door, I glanced round as I toyed with the strap of my evening bag, as it hung on my shoulder and smoothed the skirt of my low cut white dress as it clung to my curvaceous body. I had left nothing to chance.

My hair was tumbled about my head in studied disorder.
Sheer white stockings accompanied the white dress.
I'd chosen them to accentuate my pale skin and creamy complexion, giving me an almost ethereal appearance.
In stark contrast, the whole look was finished off with a pair of bright red, high-heeled shoes, which mirrored the fiery hues of my thick tresses.

”Yes…?”

I tried not to jump as I looked up.
Even in my heels he looked down at me.
It was so difficult not to be intimidated by his confidence and stature.
My eyes took in his appearance; he looked and smelt gorgeous

His mouth quirked in sardonic amusement as he caught my eye.
I knew he had seen me check him out, seen my admiring glance.
He now in turn let his eyes travel at a leisurely pace taking in my appearance as I stood demurely allowing his assessing gaze.

”So … can I help you?”

He enquired lightly.
His voice was deep, melodic;

”Actually … I came up here with the intention of helping you … “

I spoke softly, letting the subtle offer hang between us.
I held out the matchbook that I had brought with me.

”You left your matches downstairs, Doctor,”

I spoke smoothly, seriously, my eyes holding his.

”I wasn’t sure if you’d need … them … tonight, or some other night.”

His gaze was quizzical. He was no fool.

I stood unflinchingly before him, maintaining the pretense.
I knew that if he took the proffered book, he would immediately see my name and number written on the back and that if he opened them he would then discover the solitary match!

I watched him carefully, curiously, enthralled by his suave demeanour, wondering how he would react to such a transparent offer…

 

[dr_mabeuse]

I watched the people in the streets below as they milled about, seeking their Friday night fun. How happy they seemed, and how simple their quest: a drink or two, a few words at a bar, and off they would hurry for their night of casual sexual satisfaction. Now different it was for one such as I, isolated by my millions, my fame, copped up here in my luxuriosu Fabulous Penthouse, a prisoner of my own success.

I'd dismissed my butler for the night and sent the cook home, sent away all my retinue of persoanl assistants. They could not give me what I needed. No, what I needed was the romance and excitement of someone new in my life, some beautiful stranger to come into my life and bring with her the excitement, the passion I so desperately needed.
But what were the chances of that happening?
I laughed ruefully, my rich yet melodious baritone filling the Fabulous Penthouse with its rueful melodious richness.
I walked past the piano. The Bach was open to the very page where I'd left off, bored, only minutes before. I glanced at the photos on the wall: me with heads of state, movie stars, athletes, all boring, boring, and I passed by the full length mirrors in the foyer, catching sight of reflection in the glass. Yes, it was true: I was a handsome devil, and my tuxedo fit like it was handmade, which, in fact, it of course was. No "Inspected by No. 7" tag for me.

As I passed into the dining area where my butler had laid out a simple five-course supper, I paused. That sounded very much like the doorbell, but that could hardly be. I'd checked my appointment book and saw that I was free for the entire weekend. Who would be calling on me now?

I opened the door, and what I saw put my suave and debonaire demeanor to the test, for what was standing there was a young lady with fiery red tresses, emerald eyes, and skin like peaches and cream. She wore an exquisite gown of purest white that did nothing to conceal her utterly feminine frame, and I was not suave enough to keep my gaze from lingering on her intriguing decolletege.

”So … can I help you?” I asked, quite forgetting my impeccable manners

”Actually … I came up here with the intention of helping you … “ she said, her voice was a sultry alto that promised great things to come. It veritably licked my ear with its implied sexuality.

I looked down into her glittering green eyes and saw the slightly challenging look in them, the wry smile on her face. A woman to be reckoned with. She held a book of common matches in her long, manicured fingers. I noticed that her polish matched her shoes.

”You left your matches downstairs, Doctor,” she said.

Matches? She came up here to give me matches? Automatically I took them from her and noticed some writing inside the cover. I couldn't read the name, but i knew it was hers, as was the telephone number. Inside was a single match, all alone.

”I wasn’t sure if you’d need … them … tonight, or some other night.” She breathed, looking up at me from beneath her long lashes.

My eyes wandered down her body once more. She was a woman who was used to being looked at, and she didn't mind. In fact, we both enjoyed it.

"How kind of you," I said. "I did want some fire tonight. The wood's already stacked, all set to go. And you know, it only takes one match to start a blaze."

She was a bold one, and she held my gaze, She subtly touched the tip of her tongue to her top teeth in a charming yet suggestive gesture as I stood back from the door.

Won't you come in, Miss...." I said. "I was just making myself a cocktail. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to join a lonely bachelor on a cold winter's night?"

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Nadia

I watched as he took the book of matches.
He saw the name. He saw there was only one match inside.
My eyes stayed on his, curious to see what he would do.
The door hadn’t been slammed in my face, yet and I was enjoying the game.

The mystified look disappeared from his eyes and they travelled over my body once more.

"How kind of you,"

I nodded my head as if to indicate it was no trouble.

"I did want some fire tonight. The wood's already stacked, all set to go.
And you know, it only takes one match to start a blaze."

His eyes were on mine and I let myself enjoy looking into the depths of his meaningful gaze. Just the comment and the look were enough to start me smouldering, but I maintained a cool demeanour, the merest hint of a gesture indicating I’d understood his reference to the blaze, that even this verbal sparring in the hallway was … hot.

He stood back from the door, then, the perfect host, extending an invitation to an awaited guest.

”Won't you come in, Miss.... I was just making myself a cocktail.
Perhaps you'd be so kind as to join a lonely bachelor on a cold winter's night?”

I stepped towards him accepting his charming invitation.
Only when I drew level with him, did I supply my name.

”Nadia, My name’s Nadia,”

I purred.

” … and having brought you your match, I don’t mind helping to …
fan the flames… “

I allow myself a soft laugh as I press close to him and then pass through the doorway into his penthouse apartment.

I stand at ease, letting, my eyes roam with admiration about the spacious room with its lush furnishings.
Turning as I hear the door close, I let my eyes roam over his body once more.
Yes it fits. He fits in here: A fine specimen in his natural habitat.
But on speaking, I keep the observation light.

”Nice place, doctor, but we can’t have you being lonely and cold, now can we?”

I approach him slowly, my face the picture of sympathy.

”Poor bachelors need something to heat them for sure..”

My voice is a mere whisper now as I stand close to him.
Slowly I reach up and press a kiss onto his mouth as my hand curls about him and moves slowly to caress the hair at the nape of his neck.
My mouth moves enjoying the taste of this first questing kiss.
The kiss deepens, I feel my hunger for him mount, but keep it in check, merely allowing myself to flick my tongue over his lips in the lightest of teasing touches, before reluctantly breaking the kiss.
Drawing slowly away from him, I let my hand slip from his neck and draw it to trail lazily from his shoulder to his chest, my eyes following the each movement, before stepping back slightly and raising my eyes to his.

”Perhaps now, a cocktail…?”

I prompt, my voice breathless, but almost steady…

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Had Santa traded in his red suit for a white dress and come a little early into this bachelor's lonely life? Or was she just another agent provocateur sent over by the British tabloid press to try and get some spicey photographs and a good story?

She sashayed into my Fabulous Penthouse--yes, sashayed; there's no other word for it--trailing her fur coat idly on the floor, making me woonder for a moment just whose Fabulous Penthouse hideawy this really was: mine or hers?. Her kiss and the ghost of her fingers still lingered on my lips and chest, and I was a bit dizzy from the heat of that casual encounter. Dizzy and most intrigued.

I felt the fire stir below as I watched her sway into my place, She was all legs, hips, and lips, and if that glimpse of dark, inviting cleavage hadn't been an hallucination, she was no slouch in the balcony department either. I', afraid I couldn't keep my eyes from the liquid motion of her ass as she walked, her buttocks working easily beneath her gown like round pistons in some devilish sexual machine. I saw no panty line, nothing to break the thrilling curves of her curvaceous body. She was all there, and apparently ready for action.

There aren't many women who can look so absolutely sexy without looking cheap, but whe was one of them.

"Nadia." I said, letting her name play off my tongue.

She turned at the sound of her name, and boldly looked me up and down, her eyes lingering at the center of my body, no doubt gauging my reaction to her so far. I trust she wasn't disappointed.

I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she just didn't look like a reporter. Why not? I thought. Why the hell not?

"What may I get you to drink...Nadia?" I asked.

She looked at me and touched her little pink tongue to her front teeth in a gesture both charming and very suggestive.

"Why, whatever you're having of course." she said.

My sense of suavity returned as I made our drinks. Nothing like the feel of a martini shaker in my hand to bring back by debonair attitude, and I made the drinks and strained them into a couple of long-stemmed, chilled glasses, I watched her as she strolled about the room, inspecting my collection of erotic art. She was also giving me a clear view of her body. She had that way of walking with hips thrust outward, as if that was the way she chose to meet the world, sex first.

"Well, Nadia," I said, giving her drink. "Here's to...unexpected visitors."

She took the glass, her eyes never leaving mine, and we clinked softly. I watched her red lips reach forward to the rim of her hlass as took a sip of her drink. Incredible lips: rep, seeking, sensual.

I tossed mine off. I was already getting imaptinet to feel this incredible creature in my arms.

"You're standing under the mistle toe, you know." I said.

She didn't even look up. She cocked an eyebrow in challenge. "Am I? Oh dear! What ever will happen to me now?" she teased.

That was enough for me. I put my drink down and she put hers down at the same instant. I went to her and she dropped her arms to at her sides, thrusting her chest out provocatively, daring me.

I took her in my arms and had a vision of her lips opening invitingly as her eyelids came closed and then my mouth met hers and her body just melted into mine so that I could feel her from my chest to my knees, soft yet firm, just as a woman should be.

She put her hands aghainst my chest as we kissed, then slid them up till she toyed again with the hair on the back of my neck, driving me crazy with her touch. I tasted her lipstick and the naughty tang of the gin on her lips, and her tongue fenced with mine as out lips fused.

I slid my hand down her back, feeling no bra, no panties, nothing between her and her gown, and the feel of her ass was just so delicious that I grabbed her there, squeezed and separated her buttocks, pressing my fingers into her crack and grinding her loins against my stiffening cock.

In return she grabbed my ass in one of her hands, giving as good as she got, and pulled me to her. I could tell from the way she touched me that she loved the feel of a man's ass. She slid her hand lower and between my legs where she was bale to touch my balls from behind and tickle them with her nails.

There was no doubt now what she'd come for. I still didn't know her motive, but I was caring less and less about that.

We broked the kiss slsowly, her lips reluctant to let mine go, and when we did we stood still united in the cloud of lust we had created.

We looked at each other and I said, "Do you know what you're getting yourself into? Or are you just out hunting trophies?"

I took her arm. "Why don't we go into the livingroom where we can be more comfortable?"

I led her there and to a sofa in front of the fireplace. I stooped down in front of the fireplace and took out the book of matches she had given me. I showed it to her, then ripped out the one match and lit it. I held it to the newspaper and watched it catch. Soon the kindling began to burn and the chimney to draw, and effortlessly the big logs burst into flame, bathing the room in a sensuous, golden warmth.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Nadia

"Nadia."

The sound of my name from his lips sounded so sensual, but I merely turned and lifted an eyebrow enquiringly. I let my eyes drag over the contours of his body, letting my focus linger on his crotch. I failed to hide a self-satisfied grin when I saw the straining of the material and a bulge, which promised rumours as to his sexual prowess had not been exaggerated.
I said, letting her name play off my tongue.

"What may I get you to drink...Nadia?"

His light invitation gave no hint of his obvious arousal.
I smiled sweetly and with the smallest hint of a provocative gesture replied.

"Why, whatever you're having of course."

I followed his every move as he took out bottles and the cocktail shakers and began to prepare our drink. I knew that many men would have taken the opportunity to make a suggestively named cocktail and use it as a lead into a more intimate phase of the evening, but was impressed when he set about preparing a martini, co-incidentally one of my favourite drinks.

I strolled round the room, admiring the artwork, the furnishings. Everything about him sparked my interest and I was not a girl to hide my curiosity and interest! However, I was not going to stand and stare admiringly at him. He was a man used to women fawning over him and I was not merely going to be added to his “adoring crowd”… and this was as much a chance for him to look at me as it was for me to observe him.

I knew my dress was sheer and clinging.
It looked as if it had been poured over me.
I was very pleased with the effect as I walked gracefully about his home, I knew it accentuated my curvaceous figure and I knew he was interested.

I resisted the urge to turn and face him until he actually approached me carrying two long-stemmed, chilled glasses.
God, he had style. Even the way he walked was feral.
He knew he didn’t have to try hard, but every move he made screamed class!

"Well, Nadia, here's to...unexpected visitors."

I took the glass from him, holding his gaze.
The fine crystal clinked as I echoed;

”To .. unexpected visitors … “

Keeping my eyes on his as I sipped the drink, flicking a tongue over my lips before smiling in appreciation.

”Just right … “

I murmured and sipped slowly once more.
My eyes widened in surprise as I watched him bolt back his own drink.
The crystal glass was still in my hand as I listened to his softly spoken comment.

"You're standing under the mistletoe, you know."

I chuckled softly. I had started the lame pretexts, but this was just so …
It was as much a fabrication as the match and he wanted me to know it.
It was clear he was going to make a move.
I kept my eyes lowered, running a finger about the rim of my glass.

” Am I? Oh dear!”

I exclaimed softly.

”What ever will happen to me now?"”

I raised an eyebrow in enquiry, but refused to meet his eye.
I saw him put his glass down and placed my own glass next to his.
I knew I was provoking him, teasing him, but he liked the game and I loved to play it.
I stood arms at my sides and slowly raised my eyes to his.
I knew I wanted him to kiss me, touch me …

I stood half submissively, giving him full access to my body.
I could see his eyes smouldering with need, yet I wanted to make him touch me, wanted to make him reach out and take what I was offering so blatantly.
And God, I was sure he could see in my eyes just how much I wanted to feel him wrapped round me, to feel him inside me …

Just as I formulated that thought, his arms surrounded me and his lips pressed down on mine.
I half formulated a gasp, my mouth opening beneath his, letting his tongue dart into my mouth.
The taste of him was so heady as he moulded my body against his.
My hands rested against his chest for support, then as his kiss deepened my fingers played across his torso, feeling his body, exploring, until my hands crept upwards to play in the nape of his neck once more.

And all the time, his tongue lashed the sensitive depths of my mouth.
My tongue wrestled with his as it moved demandingly, tasting hungrily.
Our lips locked as we greedily devoured each other.
He was so powerful, so demanding, evoking a similar need I had barely known existed.

And still he became more insistent.
His hands moved down my back, exploring my body.
I knew he had realised. I’d come prepared, available.
The dress formed the only barrier between my body and his questing hands.
And he knew it.
I moaned softly as his hands cupped my ass and grabbed my cheeks firmly.
His hands moulded my buttocks, shaping them, until his fingers slipped into my crack and he pulled me against his crotch.
I gave a soft moan, loving the way he had taken possession of my ass.
I felt his hard cock push intimately into my crotch as his hands pressed me onto it, making sure I could not avoid the circular movements of his hard on as he rubbed against me.

That intimate grinding caused a flood of heat to sear deeply between my legs.
I had to have him. I’d known before, but now …
I moved my hands and took hold of his ass pulling him tighter, my own hands enjoying the sensation of his firm buttocks beneath my fingers.
Urgently I dragged him to me as I humped against his now rigid member.
My hand dropped and I dragged my nails gently over his ass and let them trail to torment his balls. They were so heavy and his soft groan drove me to score them lightly once more before moving my hands back to his ass and squeezing his buttocks demandingly.

Finally breathless, we broke apart.
I knew my cheeks were flaming in aroused heat and could feel the aching need we had created as I drew my breath raggedly and saw an answering hunger in his own eyes.

"Do you know what you're getting yourself into?
Or are you just out hunting trophies?"

Was his hoarse enquiry.

I answered him honestly.

”Maybe I don’t know exactly what I’m getting myself into, but I like to live dangerously…and some things are worth the risk ... ”

My voice was still husky from the heated exchange.
As I took up his offer to move to the livingroom, I took up my glass and moved along beside him. Sitting on the sofa, I watched him take the solitary match and lean forward to light the newspaper.
I watched the flames catch and spread and knew that his first kiss had similarly ignited me, that first taste of him had been like a match to the blue touch paper.
Far from being intimidated, I knew I would be able to ride out the furnace.

I leaned back on the sofa and watched him come and sit beside me, our thighs touching. The warm glow was playing on my hair, my skin.

”As to trophies … “

I whispered, following on from his earlier query.

”… if I were to go to the bother of collecting trophies, I’d start with collecting the best …”

I moved forward then pressing a kiss hard on his mouth and pulling his head downwards towards me, darting a questing tongue into his mouth and lapping along the sensitive flesh before pulling back.

”And you doctor … I know you collect … amusing little … ornaments … ”

I could have been referring to his collections, but he knew that I meant the many ornamental ladies who hung around him eager to be decoration on his forays out into society.

”But … as a connoisseur, Doctor, I wonder if you realise that it’s not the price you pay for the object of your … desire, which makes it so precious…”

My eyes watched his wondering if he understood my meaning.

”… nor is a lengthy pursuit necessary to make that object … valuable …”

I moved close to him, pressing my body against his, making sure he could feel every curve of my flesh beneath that sheer dress. My voice is husky with promise.

”If you want it enough, if you ache for its possession, then surely that treasure would be no less valuable, should it be offered to you, merely to take.
Without pursuit or cost, even in defiance of reason or explanation, what else could you do, Doctor, but accept such an offering into your … collection … ?”

 

[dr_mabeuse]

”If you want it enough, if you ache for its possession, then surely that treasure would be no less valuable, should it be offered to you, merely to take. Without pursuit or cost, even in defiance of reason or explanation, what else could you do, Doctor, but accept such an offering into your … collection … ?”

Her words made me laugh even as I felt them as a premonition of what was to come. What an extraordinary woman this was! Gorgeous, sexual, exciting, and obviously intelligent. What a formidable opponent in thie wonderful game of seduction. The object of the game was the same as it has always been: to make the other give in to their passions, to surrender their veneer of sophistication and reveal the sexual animal within. But as always, it was the play that was so thrilling. The teasing, the arousing. The woman was a master. Or should I say a 'mistress'?

I looked into those green eyes and all the pleasure they offered. "I am not one to confuse the price of something with its true value." I said, my hand going out to caress the soft smoothness of her cheek. "A true treasure is often found in the most unexpected places."

She pressed her cheek against my hand, her lips opening in sensuous abandon, then she grabbed my wrist and took my middle finger into her mouth, where she proceedied to suck on in and slide it back and forth between her soft lips.

Such a blatant and lewd gesture performed by a woman of her breeding and sophistication raised the hairs on the back of my neck. She made no secret of her oral skills, and let me see her eager pink tongue as it tickled my captive finger, creating the most intense pleasure and raising both my excitement and the hardness of my tool by several notches.

I was not to be outdone, and when she released my finger at last, sliding her pearly white teeth maddeningly over my skin, I picked up her lovely hand and held it in my own. I kissed her palm, then slid my tongue along the crease between her middle and ring fingers, flisking it slighty against her soft and fragrant skin. I drilled into the joint where her fingers met her palm, then forced my tongue between her fingers and slid it back and forth, being just as bold as she had been.

To her credit she threw her head back and laughed. Or rather, it was half laugh and half moan, but obviously she had a sense of humor as well, and with that my infatuation for this wonderful creature was complete. When I released her hand we looked at each other with new respect and understanding. Round one had been a draw. We had both won.

I moved my face to kiss her and she opened her mouth and closed her eyes. We now longer had to prove ourselves to one another, and now our kiss was deep and sweet as we told each other what we wanted and what we would give. Her kiss said she would hold nothing back and she expected the same of me. It was a dizzying moment, her breasts soft against my chest, her fingers gentle on the side of my face, her soft lips and tongue questioning and answering, showing me how well she knew me already.

I felt victory slipping through me grasp as he mouth took me prisoner, and I didn't care at all. I was glad to surrender to her if that was the price she demanded, and was quite beside myself with lust for her as I dropped my lips to the edge of her jaw, down her neck, over the pounding pulse of her blood in his throat, and down to the warmth of her collar bone as I cradled her face in my hands as if she were the rarest and most delicate jewel in the world. She threw her head back and gasped, thrusting her breasts out, enjoying my impassionaed surrender as she felt my ardor get the better of me.

Vixen that she was, she was not satisfied with my concession, and she dragged her nails over the front of my trousers, tracing the outline of my painfully aroused cock as i kissed her. The sharp. slmost painful path of her nails making me moan with hunger for more of her maddening touch.

Her gown was of some simple jersey-like material, stretchy, but very sensuous under my hands. That explained why it fil her like a second skin. The sweet and heavy globes of her breasts were unconfined, naked beneath the fabric, and were like heaven in my hand, full to bursting as if with sexual nectar. In my mindless state I did not think twice about her gown. I pulled the bodice out and away from her, freeing these treasures and exposing them to the golden light of the fire.

I was panting like a mad bull as I looked at them; perfection made flesh. Then I lowered my head and paid obeissance with kisses and licks of my tongue while she ran her fingers through my hair like a goddess amused at the mere worship of mortal man. But her gasps and sighs of pleasure showed that she was not immune to my excitement. By the time I circled her nipple with my tongue she was herself beginning to writhe in abandon, forcing herself against my mouth and moaning with delight.

My other hand slid up the long length of her thigh beneath her gown, sliding over the nylon of her stocking until I encountered the warm and impossibly soft flesh where her stocking ended. I could feel her wramth and her humidity as she gasped and tyhen deliciously spread her legs to make my access easier. But like a noice faced with the holy of holies I hesitated, by fingers trembling, not wanting this wonderful anticipation to end. I stroked her softly there and she pulled my face up to hers, kissing me fiercely and telling me "Yes! Now!" but still I resisted.

I pulled away from her then and stood up. I removed my jacket which had become uncomfortably warm. I began to loosen my tie when she said "Let me."

She looked like some pagan goddess in the fire light. Her breasts were exposed, her hair tousled and hanging wantonly across her
lovely face. I sat back down next to her and turned myself over to her expert ministrations.