How simple can it be? Just a chair in a room absent other furnishings. The windows plentiful but closed to most light save for that which passes through the drawn linen draperies. No other furnishings. What light that exists comes from the windows (dim, hard cast moonlight from the fullness of the orb) and from – what? Candles scattered into the corners of the room. The chair sits in the center of the room on its platform of soft, woven wool from an ancient Asian rug. No arms to the chair but an ample seat and rigid, relatively high back.
Your thoughts wander to what this can be. "Why does he want me here?" you ponder. Only briefly though, for you understand the nature of what will occur. You've prepared. The bodice of your dress covering everything that is underneath – just your skin and being. The loose fit of it occasionally touching you and grazing your permanently erect nipples. Some form of tantalization from fabric. But only a prelude.
You stand near the chair and take it all in – not that there is much – just that simple setting and single piece of furniture. You look over toward the doorway as you have sensed more than heard me enter. Stripped from the waist up but wearing cotton like your own as loose pants. Nothing more.
Our gazes meet and entwine just as we both wish our bodies would. We know they shall but the moment of encounter is savored. Smiling as I cross over to where you are and come near but not with extended arms – only extended senses gazing and feeling you as though your aura were palpable.
We face each other now and look longingly into each other's eyes. I raise one hand to cup and caress one of your breasts through the fabric just covering them. The flat of my palm glides just at the nipple while my fingers reach beneath. Almost no touch at all but just enough to stir those already felt passions. Then the other hand reaches for you and symmetrically performs the same tactile facilitation to your opposite breast. Our eyes continue to be locked though your lids now hood them just a bit at the sensation.
Your neck cranes to make the eye match possible as my fingers now move around and one by one the tips of them roll across the very tips of your nipples. You feel your wetness beginning and easing out from inside you. Just the first drops of passion.
My hands glide up to your shoulders and loose the straps holding that cotton gown over the object of my desire. It falls fully to the floor. My hands now glide over your shoulders seeking to take in your skin and listen with my fingers to the alerts, the electricity that is just starting to flow. I reach around behind you and bend my knees just slightly to allow my hands to run down your back to your ass where a firmer grip ensures messages conveyed.
Taking time and stepping just one-half step closer to you one hand slides around your hip and down the front of your thigh. The other remains at that rounded mound of your ass to support and insure your placement. My fingers now wander to the inside of your thigh as they move upward. Just the tips of them exploring that thigh to its full height. Across the front of your crotch and then down the inside of the opposite thigh.
A gentle pressure from my hands guides you closer to the chair. Then one hand urges your foot onto the seat of if. Spreading your legs I move closer still and run one hand along the length of the now elevated thigh. Back upward goes my hand reaching now for you and your building wetness. My other hand on your ass holding you in place.
