Dressed

I was pleased to see him. Looking splendid, standing out from the crowd.

We smiled slightly, nodded politely, kept our eyes from each other, hesitant to give off signals.

After so long, so many stolen hours of pleasure, we dare not be exposed.

After my date was occupied, soaked with champagne and distracted by the nubile charms of a baby faced sexpot, I slipped away.

Waiting for you, anxious, those few moments felt like hours.

Then you were calling my name softly, as you entered the room, your subtle scent of bergamot and oranges filling the air.

Rushing to you, throwing myself in your arms, I feasted upon your lips.

I knew the routine, however.

Obediently I turned my back to you, waiting… barely breathing. Remembering the burn from last time, how every time I sat upon my chair to fix my hair, the discomfort of my ass was a present from you.

Trembling, I stood there.

Waiting.

For you hands to touch me and my mind to expand.

~ by daturainoxia on December 4, 2008.