We meet at the bar of a cosy little restaurant. I am wearing one of those slinky dresses, dark green to accentuate my eyes. You’re already waiting, leaning against the bar. There’s a little wait until our table will be ready. We order a glass of champagne and you offer to take my coat. As you take it off my shoulders, the door to the kitchen opens at the same time as some other guests enter the premises and a breeze of cold evening air makes me shiver. You look down and realise that I couldn’t possibly be wearing a bra. My nipples are very hard and the slinky fabric of the dress does nothing to conceal that fact. With the special lightening, you think you can even see the rich dark red, almost purple colour of them shining through the dress, and you have to swallow hard and focus on something else.
Thankfully, the waiter appears and shows us to our table. As I get off the stool and turn around, you can’t help but check out my firm butt. My dress clings to me and you immediately focus on my neck again. We sit down at our table, the waiter reads the specials and we order some food and wine. As he leaves, you accidentally drop your napkin. As you bend down to pick it up, you can’t help but look at my long, slim legs. And for a split second you’re Michael Douglas in Basic Instinct or at least you think so… it all happened too quick!
The waiter brings our food. You already regret that you didn’t order pizza. The tortellini with sun dried tomatoes remind you of something else. We are having a pleasant conversation with lots of bantering. You’re confused and don’t know what to make of me. On the one hand I seem rather flirty but my sarcastic comments seem to be in stark contrast to that fact. You can’t outwit me and I always seem to end up having the last word. You start to flirt with me but don’t get anywhere. Your ego needs a boost and you start telling me this story about yourself to try and impress me. You watch me eat my gnocchi, the white, soft, pasty white balls, dripping with cream sauce disappear into the scarlet red lips. The image of my naked white skin lying on your black silk sheets pops into your head. The white skin, the little shadowed area between my legs, the curve of my lower back, my little breasts, nipples you want to see hard. A little drop of the sauce stays on the lips. I lick it off and you go hard. I make yet another sarcastic comment about the story, keep eating the delicious food and slowly slide my naked foot up your leg until it digs into your crotch. It’s a little painful but delightfully so. I rub my foot up and down your erection. You’re worried about the waiter refilling our glasses, you’re desperate because you know you lost. You want to be in charge. You’re used to be in charge. This evening is nothing like you imagined. You wanted to seduce me, wanted me lusting after you, you being the cool guy. But it is you who wants me. Now. You know I am playing with you. You don’t know if I even liked you. You check the nipples but the only thing that’s hard at that table is you, you feel like you’re going to explode.
You know you need to cool off. You excuse yourself and are happy about your choice of clothes and that the table is close to the gents. It reminds you of your grandma’s downstairs toilet. The dark wood, the fake flowers, the rose towels, it even smells like it. You enter the cubicle and the thought of grandma helps you to calm down. And then you begin to wonder whether I’d still be sitting out there or if you had scared me away with your stories. You leave the cubicle and there’s me, leaning against the door.
You watch me lock the door. I just look you in the eye. You don’t know what to do. I slowly walk towards you. You get nervous and excited. My fingers glide across your chest to your back down your butt. I walk around you, slide my hands towards your crotch, not touching your cock. But you want me to. I’ve finished circling you, still looking at you and you feel like a naughty schoolboy being caught by the headmistress. Your eyes travel down my neck, into my cleavage and further down. Is she or isn’t she. You want to know. You walk towards me, grab my ass, slide up my dress. You keep walking and push me backwards until we hit the sinks. You realise that the only thing between you and my naked body is that very dress. You want to slide the straps off my shoulders but I stop you. I take a step forward. Press you against the sidewall. I unbutton your shirt, slowly. You feel my cold fingers touching your skin. I undo your belt, drop the pants. I take your big hard cock into my cold hands. You shiver. I press my body against you and all you want to see is those nipples hard. But they’re not. I still smile at you like the headmistress used to. You feel the soft material of the dress against your naked skin. I’m dressed, you’re naked. I whisper that we don’t have much time before someone alerts the staff about the locked door. You lift me onto the built in sinks. You kiss my nipples through the dress and finally, there they are, little hard bullets. You slide your hand up the inside of my thigh and are surprise by how wet I already am. You see my naked back in the mirror, you see yourself. You’re in charge now. You pull my hips towards you and glide into me with one smooth and strong movement. It feels good. I lean back, tilt my pelvis so you get to enter even deeper. Long slow thrusts follow and you’re not sure how long you will be able to hold back. A strap of my dress slides down and reveals the purple nipple you dreamed of all night. But still that almost smug look on my face. You bend forward and lick the area around my nipple. You don’t dare to touch it yet. I wrap my long legs around your waste. My skin smells of roses. You pull out. You lift me off the sinks. Breast still exposed. You kiss my neck, don’t dare going to the lips, afraid of the sharp tongue. Instead you let yours wonder down and suck my naked nipple. With your thumb you caress the other one through the fabric of the dress. You turn me away from you.
You enter me from behind. And finally you see the first sign of weakness. You see me biting those red lips. Your thrusts are slow and deep at first but soon getting faster and harder. Your finger finds my clit, rubs it lightly as if to make sure it was really the right spot and then you just put slight pressure on it. You let it move naturally with the rhythm of our hips. I move against you harder now. I open myself even more. You see me in the mirror and you know, you’ve won the battle, you’re finally in charge. This gives you an even bigger kick and you want to see me completely submitting myself to you. You watch my face and I look at you. There’s that patronising look again, but you know now to focus on the clit more. It works. You feel my body tightening, so far no sound has come across my lips but now you hear a faint moan. You change the rhythm, go deeper again. I moan even more. You know I’m about to climax. You thrust hard now, real hard, you want to catch up. You might have won the battle but I was about to win the war. You want to see me win it, followed by you as a close second. You look at my face again. I’m not looking, I am in my own world. All the sarcasm is gone now. I catch you looking at me and it’s back on, but only for a split second before I let myself go completely. You go faster and faster. Someone is knocking on the door. You go faster, harder, my body goes rigid and then your vision goes blurred and your head explodes. When you open your eyes, you see that look back in my eyes.
You pull out. The dress automatically slides back and covers my ass. I pull up the strap of my dress so the breast is covered again and start to fix my hair and touch up the lipstick. Nipples still pointing, breasts heaving slightly, a little sweat glistening on my bare back. You still haven’t kissed me. You want to. Knocking again. You apologise, you’ve been a little unpleasant and will be out in just a moment. I am heading towards the door. You grab my arm and swivel me around. You look me in the eye and just want to see my eyes like they were a few moments ago. You pull me towards the old-fashioned chaise-longue.
I lie down and you kneel in front of me. You slide your hands up on the outside of my thighs, lifting the dress, revealing my dark purple pussy. You spread my legs, one on the floor, the other over your shoulder. You kiss the inside of my thigh. Working your way up. You feel a little stubble. You kiss your way around it. It’s warm, moist, the smell of sex is overwhelming. You part my lips with yours. Stick your tongue up, deep inside me. Explore, where you’ve just been. Your nose finds the clit. You kiss your way up. You suck the clit, you lick it, you caress it. Your hands travel across my belly, lift my hips, you sink your face even deeper into this wonderfully slimy world. You look up. I hold your gaze and I slid one hand in my dress, playing with my nipple, biting my lips so as not to moan and show you just how much I enjoy your touch, enjoy your power over me. I arch my back, signalling I don’t want you to stop. Your hands gone cold and you run your cold finger around my belly button, further down, seemingly lost. You’re applying the same pressure to the clit as you did before and I start to move my hips, in my own rhythm. You just sit back and watch, not really doing anything but yet it all depends on you. You run your free hand across my belly, slide around my lower back, lifting me up a little. I pull down a strap of the dress. I slide my hand down and our fingers meet at my clit. I go further down. I am really wet now. I pull my hand back up and use my own juices as a lubricant around my exposed nipple. It’s now glistening in the dark. You bury your face in my pussy once more. You want to taste me. Your tongue begins to flick the clit. Faster and faster. I arch my back. My juices flow all over your face now. I am trembling. You come up. You want me to taste my own juices. Want to proof that it was really you who did this to me. You want me to admit my pleasure to you. You kiss me for the first time. I move forward until you’re lying on the floor. I sit on top of you. I use my own hand this time to stimulate the clit. I bend backwards, moving smoothly and strongly. Your hands are on my breasts. I stop. I turn around, facing away from you now, I pull up my dress and you see the muscles of my lower back working hard. The perfect pear shape of my ass moving, moving faster and faster. Again, I climax as you still hold back. You’re not ready to explode inside me yet. I slowly get off, taking off the dress. I am now completely naked. I lie down on top of you, my clit just a tongue-lenght away from you. I grab your still hard penis with my still cold hands. Run my thumb down the underside of the shaft. My fingers glide past your balls and find that spot just before the anus. You gasp. I lick the crown. I taste me. I lick and suck you whilst still applying pressure to your spot. You try and lick my clit but it’s getting hard to focus. You feel the warm moisture in your face again. Smell me. Smell sex. You’re about to get off. I continue. You want to throw me off to finish the job I started but my legs nail you to the floor. All you can see now is the purple of my pussy. Moving in the same rhythm as the waves running through your body. You explode. I get up. I walk over to the sink and start to clean myself up, still naked. You lie and watch me apply lip stick in the nude, only wearing my stiletto sandals. I dab the sweat off me, apply some of that perfume you smelled just moments ago on my hot skin and slide the dress over my body. I step over you, giving you one last glance at my pussy and wait by the door until you gathered your clothes. I slip out.
You get dressed, still fuzzy, and follow me back to the table only to find me gone. Nothing left but a mint and the receipt for the bill.
