I never told Mark specifically what I wanted, but the seeds of it were always there. They were there in the way he pinned my wrists above my head with one strong hand, his dark eyes meeting mine as he drove into me resolutely, the fingers of his other hand teasing at my clit until a shuddering orgasm tore a hoarse cry from my throat. It was there in the way he teased me, leaving me right on the edge of coming until I begged to feel his cock inside me.
It started that afternoon. My phone buzzed in my desk drawer, and I pushed a button to light up the screen.
'I have a surprise for you when you come over for dinner tonight. Wear something sexy, M x.'
I smiled. He had told me explicitly that since he thought I was so sexy in anything, 'wear something sexy' had a very specific meaning. Black lace lingerie. A suspender belt. Stockings, the 40s pin-up kind with a seam up the back. And a pair of stiletto heels.
Another text later that day, just before I sank into a scented bath. 'I'm already imagining what you're doing. You're planning to take a bath. Don't touch yourself while you're in there x.'
I obeyed. It was hard. My pussy was already swollen with desire when I climbed out. I shimmied into my bra and suspenders in front of my mirror, rolling the stockings slowly up my legs. Finally, I slid on the matching panties. They barely covered my freshly trimmed mound. It looked a little odd over the suspender belt, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Paul would slide it off and fuck me in stockings and suspenders. I blew myself a kiss in the mirror before slipping into a wrap dress, which hugged my curves but which would slither off with one tug of the bow at my waist.
His room was dressed for seduction when I arrived. The lights were dimmed, unobtrusively sexy music played from the expensive hidden speakers. Mark had just arrived home and had had no time to change - I certainly wasn't complaining. Dinner was ready, rich sensuous foods requiring a lot of fingers to eat them. No standing on ceremony here! I helped Mark in the kitchen in-between courses and he took advantage of the chance to push me up against the counter, kissing me deeply. My hand instinctively curled around his neck, above the collar of his shirt. The next time I followed him in, he lifted me up, perching my bottom on the table. Standing between my spread legs, he kissed my neck, my collarbones, the top of my breasts above the neckline of my dress. I moaned and pushed against him. I could feel his hardness against me, but he just pulled away with a smile, leaving me even more frustrated.
After dinner, we relaxed with a glass of wine, exchanging idle small talk. I could barely concentrate, as my eyes roamed over his body. I couldn't wait to get him naked, to shed his uniform and reveal his naked form, but most of all his magnificent cock. But this evening wasn't about what I wanted. Or was it? I realised he had asked me a question as I stared at him.
"Hmm?"
