by Adrianna de la Rosa
(03/20/02)
She liked the way that his hands encircled her breasts through lace. In fact, she could have spent hours watching him stroke them. His fingers knew how to find her nipples in the dark. He had a way with them, like a kind of snake charmer. If he had been blind, he could have found them and made them stiffen. This was simply a manifestation of his desire. He felt they were made from pink alabaster, and he told her this constantly. He liked to suckle them and draw them out like little pink pearls. She loved to watch him do this.
At that time she wore a twin strand of freshwater pearls. He was jealous of where these pearls went down into the crease her cleavage formed. Many times he told her he would like to be this necklace. He would trace the slow descent as she grew wet in anticipation of his next move, his still-frame choreography.
She knew he loved breasts. Large ones. She had gone to Victoria's Secret in anticipation of this affair and bought many different bras and panties. Some were lace-encrusted and some were entirely plain. There was something else she bought. A unitard made of black lace. It almost made her come when she viewed herself in it. She looked just like the picture in the catalogue. She wanted him to see her in this and put his fingers up into her through the veiled slit which was discreetly open between her legs. The place where she secretly foamed for him. She wanted him undone, with his fingers up her ass and her pussy through this little slit, this planned rending of the fabric sheath. Thinking about this made her very wet.
It is always like this in the beginning with a lover, isn't it? His sharp intake of breath when he views her nakedly in those early moments. This corresponds to the equally sharp and jolting sensation just behind and lower than her navel. This is where her pussy holds its breath, waiting.
What is more delicious than thinking you have undone a man?
She did this over the dinner that he made for her. Crab legs and artichokes that first time and she was so wet, she was oh so very foamy that she didn't even care when she opened her jacket and said that she had a little something for him and it was this glistening bra, completely transparent, with leopard print spots, and she waited for his breath and his glittering eyes to return to normal, and she knew she had him right then and there, pinioned.
What she really wanted in that moment was for him to take her, pushing her back up onto the table with her legs spread so wide that anyone could have seen her pink lips glistening and foaming at the nether mouth for him, and she wished that all his friends could just be outside the curtainless windows watching as he took her slowly and she screamed. She wanted to be this open.
Instead, he never missed a beat as as she stood up and slid her panties off and placed them on the table next to the cracked crab shells. He knew how to make her wait. But it was a kind of dance they did around the edges of the fact that she really wanted him to fuck her right up the ass, her breasts pushed into the remnants of the crab shells and his tongue rimming her and going in and out like crazy, but she would never say this to him. It wouldn't be ladylike, and yet she wanted him so far up there that she could scream and beg for mercy and still he would keep on pushing until he reached someplace that broke inside of her and she was his, all his forever.
But that isn't what happened exactly. She knew she had him by his eyes, and the discreet placement of her panties near the crab shells, and it was all silent. He never said a thing or missed a beat, and yet when he took her that night on his maroon sheets, another place inside her opened.
Man in the Moon is a continuing series.
Man in the Moon
Man in the Moon: 2 Baths
