She sits on the couch, ringing her hands nervously. She wears a grey v neck T shirt and black leggings. Underneath it is the surprise: red lace panties and a red lace bra to match. Does she really want to do this? She wonders. She grips a glass in her fingers, filled with cranberry and pineapple juice and a splash of vodka. The ice has melted and she wipes the sweat off the outside of the glass, rubbing her hand dry on the couch cushion.
But she is aching inside, and she wants, no needs, to be with someone. It's been almost 7 years since she entertained the notions of sex. Her last date was such a bust, the guy pawing her after dinner, then too drunk to get his cock hard. And a woman can only play with her toys so much. She wanted to feel fingers not her own on her clit, stroking her hot, wet pussy. Maybe a little tongue action, oh how she missed a guy with his head between her legs, tongue licking her pussy, playing over her clit, rubbing it...Oh god, she was getting wet in anticipation. She reaches a hand to her breast and caresses it through her shirt. To have someone else do this, touch her, would be orgasmic.
She looks at the clock. Almost time, but did she have the guts to go through with it? She could still call it off, go get the kids and do dinner instead. No this was what she wanted, needed. Running her fingers, wet with condensation from her drink along her almost exposed cleavage, she takes a giant swig of her drink. With butterflies in her stomach, she hears a knock on the door. One last tug at the bottom of her shirt, and putting the drink down on the counter, she says "come in"
In he walks tall, dark haired. She walks over, unsteady on the heels she decided would be sexy, whispers ,"hello". He leans over as to kiss her, and she reaches out to grab his arm, her heels (his request) making her a little unsteady on her feet. A quick peck on her lips and He asks if she is nervous. "A little" she whispers again.
This is not the thing she has done before. Can she go through with this? She could still say no, couldn't she?
He reaches down and takes her hand in his. He pulls her close with his other arm and leans down to kiss her again. His lips feel soft against hers. His hand untangles from hers and reaches behind her head grabbing a fistful of hair, pulling her head back and letting his tongue graze her lips, nipping at them hungrily. Hand still gripping her hair, he uses his other hand to grab her ass and pull their bodies closer. She opens her mouth and lets her tongue wash over his lips, then greedily lets it slide into his open mouth. She pushes against him and wraps her arm around his waist, his hardness pressing against her.
She moans a little and leans her lips full into his. Her stomach full of butterflies has slowly subsided. She lets her hand run down his torso, letting them rest on his ass, squeezing a little. A little giggle escapes her lips. That little mischievous giggle she gets when she knows things will happen.
He pulls away, looks her in the eyes, "What's funny?"
She grins a cheeky grin, "Oh nothing", she says as she placed her mouth over his, her tongue buried inside, her hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer.
Their lips part and he pushes her towards the couch. He starts tugging up her shirt.
"Arms up" he demands.
'Forceful' she thinks as she obeys. His demanding turns her on. He slips her shirt above her head, taking in her red lace bra.
