The Room

J. Boase © 2003

The Room has an intensely erotic atmosphere. Unmistakably, irresistibly, it envelops you in sexual persuasion.

It is rectangular and roomy, a door at one end, a bay window at the other with curtains that allow you to vary the light. It has a polished wooden floor, ideal for dancing in stockinged feet. It has a fireplace, ornate but unused, and a central chandelier. The high ceiling features pressed metal panels with floral designs. Its only furnishings are a high-backed chair, a piano stool and a black, brilliantly glossy grand piano.

'Pour us a glass of wine and bring it in,' she says with a knowing look before disappearing into The Room and closing the door behind her.

I draw the cork from an excellent merlot, the kind one would expect to find in the cellar of a gourmet cook and wine connoisseuse. On the kitchen bench I find two elegant wine glasses: Riedel, of course.

A single candle and a match lie to hand where she has left them for me.

Lighting the candle, pouring some wine and holding the glass to it. Breathtaking colour. Swirling the wine in the glass, lifting it to my face, sealing my nose with the neck of the glass. Complex aromas, rich and refined, assertive yet subtle. Swirling again, taking a generous draught, resting it initially in my mouth then swishing it around to release the flavors. Holding it there until I finally swallow, to be delighted by the wine's long finish. I may have had a better red wine but I can't remember when.

'Da da da, da da da, da da da daa, da-da da...'

Beethoven! The Moonlight Sonata!

I pour both glasses and carry them to the door of The Room, opening it gingerly.

She has discarded her dress. Her bare shoulders sway gently at the keyboard. Her music fills The Room with its elegant tones, a soft yet compelling sound. I put her glass on the window sill adjacent to the piano stool.

She wears only black panties, contrasting with her fine, pale skin; black, stay-up stockings; and black, heeled shoes. She engages my eyes and smiles.

I take the high-backed chair and sip the lovely wine. A superb merlot, Beethoven, The Room and a nearly naked pianist! I marvel at the combination.

'What is the rest of the world doing at this moment?' I wonder, enchanted by her playing...

The first movement ends. She takes up her glass and walks over to me.

'To us'.

'A worthy toast!.

We clink our glasses and sip.

I stand and hold her hand.

She takes a mouthful of merlot and puts her lips to mine. The wine spills onto my tongue and runs down my throat. Some of it overflows down my chin. She holds herself to me and I draw the wine vapors from her mouth.

Her hand brushes against my cock. She has been rubbing against it while kissing me. There is a wet patch on my trousers.

'That feels promising'.

'I want another one of those wine kisses, please'.

'Liked that one, did you?'

She puts her glass to her lips and sups, holding the wine in her mouth. We kiss again. I marvel at the sensations of transferring wine, then wine vapors from her mouth to mine.

Her perfume is alluring.

Sitting again, putting my glass on the floor and drawing her to me. The scent of her arousal is earthy and obvious. Her panties are wet. Taking deep breaths, savouring her aroused state, running my hands around the shapely curves of her buttocks. My tongue seeks her sex, easing the fabric of her panties into her slit. A little shiver runs through her bottom. She tastes wonderful.

'I have something special in mind for you', she says in her warm, enticing voice.

'Oh, and what would that be?' My voice is muffled, between her thighs.

'I need to leave you for a minute to make it happen'.

'Ok... but just one more sniff and lick... I feel very self-indulgent...'

Luxuriating in the glories of the scent and wetness that she has made for me. Enjoying the feeling of maleness that comes from being able to arouse such an intensely sexual woman. My lover is addictive. Her sexuality is awe-inspiring. Her needs would frighten a lot of men.

She pulls back, slowly. My mock protest goes unheeded. She puts down her glass and walks to the door, exaggerating the movement of her hips. Her bum is magnificent. Her stockinged legs flow stylishly. Her skin is smooth and white in the muted light.

I hear her shoes going along the passage towards her bedroom. Thirty seconds or so and I hear her returning. She comes through the door carrying the duvet and a pillow from her bed. She clicks the door shut.

'Mmm... This looks like fun...'

'Do I ever disappoint you?'

She spreads the duvet, doubled over, on the grand piano and positions the pillow.

'You're overdressed'.

I take the hint, not caring that my fine wool suit finishes up in a pile on the floor.

She leans on the piano, her torso reflected in the brilliant sheen of the lid, sipping from her glass.

'So... show me your cock...'

I sit with legs apart, stroking my cock. It's longer and thicker than most, she tells me. I'll take her word for it. I've never seen another man erect in real life.

Liquid flows profusely from my cock. I use the liquid to allow my fingers to slip easily over the fleshy cockhead. I stroke it like this when self-pleasuring, pulling firmly on the head, rarely touching the shaft.

'I like watching you do that'.

She does, indeed. Sometimes we sit opposite each other and watch ourselves self-pleasuring until we come. The Room is perfect for that. We have also watched each other outside, in a secluded corner of her rambling garden, our naked bodies bathed in sunshine, surrounded by flowers and blossom trees.

I pull down on the skin at the base of the shaft and thrust my groin forward, displaying my full length.

'God, do I take all of that inside me?'

She sounds genuinely incredulous.

I hold my cock against my belly and lift my balls with the other hand. They feel full and heavy, a pleasurably male sensation. Her eyes fixate on them. I single out the bigger left one and display its shape to her with the skin stretched tightly around it. She sips and watches intently.

'I suppose you'll be wanting to empty those?'

'One way or the other, I promise you'.

'I leak for days after I've been with you'.

'I hope so, woman! I do my best'.

'Tell me about it! When I went back to the office the last time I had a flood of it in a meeting and had to sit in wet knickers'.

'Ah, the plight of you ladies... You do like the stuff, though... You told me...'

'Yeah, sort of...' she says with a wry smile and a meaningful look.

She drains her glass and puts it on the floor, under the piano. She flicks off her shoes, then draws her panties down her legs and tosses them to me. I put them to my nose. Earthy, like a good Bordeaux red: 'Chateau D'. She always laughs when I make this comparison. Her body hair has been recently waxed and only a tiny strip remains. The lips of her cunt are prominent, the way I felt them when I tongued her through her panties.

She climbs onto the piano with the aid of the stool and lies back on the duvet, her head on the pillow.

'Sit on the stool'.

I follow her direction, cock swaying stiffly as I walk.

'You clever woman, you!'

The height of the piano stool is the perfect height to let me put my mouth on her. She wriggles forward until her cunt is accessible to me.

We have a little ritual. She must not come too quickly. If she senses the onset of orgasm she touches me on the top of my head and I take my mouth away from her clitoris. When the moment has passed, she touches me again on the head which tells me that I can work my way back to her clitoris. She must draw back from her peak at least twice before coming.

My lover is capable of coming many times and can reach high arousal in a very short time. We joke that her idea of foreplay is to have three quick orgasms to relieve the tension before she settles into serious lovemaking. Her sexual needs are constant, overwhelming. Like me, she knows the blessing and the curse that characterise obsessive sexual need. We understand each other.

Taking my time, working my tongue into the folds and recesses of her cunt, relishing the different textures of the skin. Her inner lips are a work of art, perfecty symmetrical. Running my tongue tip along the length of them and sucking on them. Using the blade of my tongue to lap through her opening; big, broad swathes of tongue-lapping that collect her juices; penetrating her with gentle, then vigorous tongue thrusts. Putting butterfly kisses on the skin above her clitoris, drawing her lips back to give me access to that moist and fragrant flesh. Running my tongue between her outer and inner lips, pushing in against the folds, touching every tiny part of her. Tonguing along her perineum, pushing down on it through her cunt, clamping my lips on it, sucking gently. Licking lower, around her exquisite anus, sucking lightly on it.

Hearing the sounds of her pleasure echo softly around The Room.

Her strong arousal scent has been superseded by a sweet, fresh scent. Her liquid is also sweet. Her body is amazing in its responses. Earthy arousal scent and taste to attract me; sweet, fresh scent and taste when she has claimed me and has welcomed me into her beautiful, beautiful cunt.

My cock and her cunt fit perfectly, amazingly so.

Another pat on my head. From now on she is allowed to come.

Pushing my lower lip up under her clitoris and drawing it away from her body. Licking down one side of it, the part where her middle finger works when she is bringing herself to orgasm.

Feeling her bottom tensing up.

Hearing her cries of heightened arousal.

I know from watching that she strokes her clit vigorously to achieve orgasm. I have had her work my hand in order to get a sense of the pressure she likes. She has held my hand to hers and showed me the technique that she likes.

'Oh yes... Oh yes...!!!'

Pressing my tongue hard against her clit and lapping her relentlessly, centring the pressure on the part she favors. Continuing to draw her clit up and away from her body with my lower lip, trapping and holding it with my upper lip, stretching the skin over it, sending her over the edge.

'Uuuunnnnhhhh!!!'

Pressing my tongue-tip to her clit and holding it there. Her thighs push against my face, then part again as she opens her body to me. Slipping my thumb tip into her anus, feeling the muscle convulse and pulse. She throws her head back, revealing the tell-tale white patch on her throat when she comes.

Her orgasm is prolonged and incredibly intense.

Holding my tongue against her until I feel her relax, then clamping my mouth softly around her outer lips. Little after-shocks cause her bottom to lift and her thighs to twitch around my head.

She lies back gasping, eyes closed, sated and spent for the time.

Easing my tongue into her. Supping the sweet, creamy come-fluid that she has so joyously released.

She will want to be filled with cock soon. She is the original Cock Woman. When she is ready I will carry her into the bedroom and fuck her brains out. She is in that mood. But for now we enjoy erotic tranquility.

Her legs rest over my shoulders.

Waiting for her to return to me, not moving, not wanting to distract her, revelling in her wonderful woman-sights just in front of my eyes, delighting in her scent and taste.

Other sexual scenarios for The Room run through my head as I wait.

We will try all of them.