I stood in the bedroom upstairs, waiting for you.
I had gone upstairs about an hour earlier, saying I was sleepy. I'd taken a long, slow bath. Before that I had watched you all evening, and watching your hands always excites me. You were working on plans for something you wanted to build, and I watched you bending over the desk, measuring, making notes, holding the pencil, your eyes intent. Your silky dark hair fell forward, almost into your eyes, and occasionally you brushed it away from your forehead with those big, deft fingers. I knew how those fingers felt on my skin ... how they stroked and prodded, caressed and teased, and how gently they could penetrate damp little openings ... and their strength, their power when they thrust inside my warm, eager flesh.
Your birthday was coming up in just a few days. We had plans with family on that day, but tonight ... as a surprise ... I'd made sure the kids were spending the night with grandparents, and I smiled as I watched you working, not wanting to interrupt your concentration. I kissed you softly on the cheek and told you I was going upstairs to bed. I allowed you think I was too sleepy for anything to happen ... I hadn't told you about any surprise ... so you kissed me, and whispered good night, and went back to your work.
As I smoothed your favorite scented lotion on, I wondered how you would react when you saw what I had done, there in the bathtub. I felt nervous ... a little apprehensive. I put on a new silk nightgown, floor length, deep cherry red, enhancing the pink tones in my fair skin. It was fitted closely at the top, so my full breasts were nearly spilling out of the low-cut lace, and with a slit up the front so high it was really indecent. I smiled, thinking about what you were going to see at the top of the lacy slit ... and then I heard you turning off the lights downstairs, locking the door, and my heart began to hammer as I heard you come up the stairs.
I stood with my back to the dresser, my hands behind me, my blondish-brown hair flowing over my shoulders, the way you loved. Candles softly lit the room. I wanted you to feel the tension in the air ... to feel my excitement ... and to wonder what was behind it. You opened the door softly, thinking I was sleeping, but when you noticed the empty bed ... covers pulled back and some of my favorite toys spread out over the pillows ... you looked over at me, and I heard you take a deep, slow breath.
"Honey," you said softly, your eyes narrowing as you closed the door behind you. "You look like a woman who wants to get fucked."
"Is that what you think?" I giggled softly, standing with one foot slightly in front of the other to draw your eyes to that slit in my gown. It worked. Your eyes dropped and I felt them warming a path from my ankles up the insides of my thighs, then resting at the top of the slit. It was too dark for you to see clearly, but you tried, and I shifted, slowly circling my hips, to give you something to look at.
"I don't think it, darlin, I know it. If you stand there like that in that sexy nightgown, you know damn well you're gonna get fucked ...so of course, you want it." Your voice was low, intense, and thick with sex, and I squirmed, my nerves jumping.
"You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you," I murmured softly, and you grinned. "You know what I'm sure of? I'm sure of how hot you are ... of how sexy you
are ... and of how much you love having my big, hard dick inside you ... so yeah, I'm pretty sure I know what you want."
"Then give me what I want," I whispered. You crossed the room in long strides and caught me in your arms, pulling me so tight against you I could hardly breathe, kissing me, tongue thrusting inside, hot and demanding. I wrapped my arms around your neck and surrendered, drinking in that passion, that heat, letting that urgent hot desire burn against me. You moved me toward the bed and lifted me onto it, spreading open the slit in my skirt, and when your hands brushed up the long smooth muscle of my inner thighs I heard you catch your breath.
