0 comments/ 11118 views/ 1 favorites A Surprise Evening By: dquickstab As I come upstairs to your room I see your roommate going to study downstairs. This means that you are alone in the room. I will have plenty of time to do what I want to do. I knock on the door. When you open it I see the excitement in your face. You weren't expecting me home this early. You are wearing a white sweater and tight khaki pants and a white scarf in your hair. You look so pristine, so innocent. You begin to say something and I raise my finger to your lips, all that escapes is "I thought..." before your lips close. I step into the room as you take a step back. You smile, but look at me quizical. I step forward again, letting go of the door so that it closes behind me. As I do this I grab hold of the bottom of your sweater and begin to lift it. You look at me and begin to say, "My roommate is downst...” before I silence you again with my finger. I continue to lift your shirt, what little resistance is left is silenced by my stern look. You lift your arms, to help me get the sweater up and over your head. I toss it onto the chair by your desk and look at you. You are wearing a small spaghetti strap tank top that is tight on your perfect breasts but loose around your tummy, so it flirts with me, showing me hints and glances at your belly button. I admire your beautiful breasts and your neck and shoulders for a few long seconds before looking back up at your face. There is a slight flush on your cheeks. I am not sure if it is because you are turned on at me looking at you, because you are frustrated because I won't let you talk, or because you are embarrassed that your roommate could walk in. As I keep looking at your face, admiring your beautiful eyes, and luscious pillowy lips, your face reddens slightly and you turn away. I raise my hands once again and slowly unbutton your pants. You don't make a sound, or try to stop me, but you look at me and then look at the door. You are hoping that I will lock the door, but I continue. I unzip your pants and look back up at you, as I begin peeling your tight pants off of you. Your beautiful skin coming into view more and more as the cloth gives way. I smile as I notice that you are wearing a small pair of white thong panties. I get down on my knees, my face at the level of your panties and the treasure beneath them. I continue to lower you pants, until I get to your feet. I look up at you and you lift your left foot. As I am glancing up I notice your nipples are sticking out quite far, it's not cold in your room, and this makes me smile. You notice my glance and blush again. I pull your left pant leg off and you lift your right leg. I pull your pants off and put them on the chair, on top of your sweater. I put my nose a little closer to you and inhale deeply. I can smell your excitement already. The smell mixing with your perfume and making me slightly dizzy. My heart starts pumping faster as I stand up slowly. I step back and stare at you. You look away whenever our eyes lock, but I admire you. Admire you like you would admire a statue in a museum. Even half naked you are still very innocent looking, almost pristine. I begin to move around you looking at your beautiful body. Your breasts large enough to perfectly fit my hands, your nipples hard now and your breasts rising and falling with your breath. Your beautiful tummy, your little navel is so enticing, so sexy. Your legs, so long, and ending in your beautiful buttocks. Your buttocks, your beautiful tight little bum. Big enough, and rich enough to grab, but small enough and tight enough to run your hand over, and supple enough to quiver enticingly when spanked. I step forward from behind you our bodies no more than an inch apart, but still I don't touch you. I lift your hair from off of your shoulders and smell it. I run my fingers through your hair slowly and gently, and then take the ribbon out of your hair and place it on your pants. I quickly braid your hair, gently running my fingers along your reddish tresses. When I finish I don't bother tying it off. I just place it over your shoulder, so that I can look at your beautiful neck. I step around to the front of you, and grab the bottom of the tank top. I look at you waiting for any sign of discontent, any sign of a fight, but you just blush again and look away. I lift your shirt a little bit and just stare dumbfounded by your gorgeous tummy. Your arms move slightly as you fight your urge to cover up but end up just staying by your sides. I continue to lift your shirt. The cloth brushes against your nipples and then all of a sudden all you feel against them is the light caress of the air as the shirt comes off over your head. This causes them to be very hard and stick out like bullets. I look down at the last stitch of cloth on you, and then look you in the eyes. You blush, but this time you fight the urge to look away. I smile and reach down and slide my fingers into the front of your panty. My fingers touch your skin for the first time. The backs of my fingers slide down from your tummy down your creamy thighs and then down further as you step out of them. Again I am on my knees, and I am at eye level with your clean shaved sex . Again, I inhale your beautiful aroma. It is stronger now. I stand and step back again. I take in your gorgeous naked body and I can’t help but be aroused. I step around you and come up behind you. I step forward again and whisper into your ear “Close your eyes.” Now you have no idea what is going on, and the first thing you feel is my breathing on your neck. All of a sudden you feel my hands on your hips, caressing upwards to your sides. Then you feel my hands move away. You no longer feel my breathing on your neck and now your body is tense, expectant for the next touch, but not knowing where, when, or if it will come. Then you feel my fingers lightly touch your shoulders. Sliding them up then so my whole palm is gently caressing your shoulders and neck. Then again I pull them away. You hear my feet on the floorboards and can tell that I have moved in front of you. I surprise you by placing my hands on the inside of your ankles. I slowly begin tracing my hands up along your legs. I stop briefly at your knees and feel the soft skin behind them, before continuing up your thighs. As my hands draw nearer to your sex your excitement begins mounting, and almost subconsciously your legs spread open a little. Then my hands pull up and my fingers brush against the outside of your lips, brushing by quickly before I pull my hands away. You blush because you know that I felt the wetness there and you blush even more when you hear my mouth open. You know that I am tasting your arousal, and it turns you on even more. You know I love the taste of you. Then again you feel a touch, just my fingertips this time, on your breasts. I circle my fingers around your breasts avoiding your nipples as they harden ever so slightly. I continue circling and gradually my circle is just two fingers on each breast, circling around your nipple without so much as touching them. Then all of a sudden I bring my fingers together and gently, but firmly pinch them. And just as quickly as it happened my fingers are gone. Then you hear me moving around again and I stop behind you again. This time when I step up my full body is up against yours. You feel my rough denim against your buttocks, and the buttons of my shirt trailing a straight line down your back. I put my hands on your shoulders again, and whisper in your ear “Bend over.” You hesitate to listen to me, and I gently push your shoulders forwards. You bring your elbows up and rest them on the bed. Your eyes are still closed, but you hear me move the chair closer. I must be sitting down. You feel my hands on the inside of your legs this time, and I pull them open. In this position your lips are displayed for my viewing. I admire this for a while before moving your legs further apart. Then you feel my hands slide upwards towards your sex. My fingers brush by on the outside of lips. Then you feel my hands move upwards towards your buttocks. I grab the cheeks of your magnificent ass in each hand, and gently spread your buttocks open. Your face is bright red, as you know you can’t hide anything from me in this position. Again, out of nowhere without letting go of your buttocks, you feel me touching you. I gently kiss your lips, the wetness causing my lips to easily enter you slightly. You feel my lips part as my tongue gently licks you quickly before being pulled back in and I am gone. My hands are no longer on your buttocks, my lips are no longer kissing yours. My hands return to you shoulders, and I pull them back, standing you up. I continue to pull until you get the hint and sit down on my lap. The rough folds of denim push against your moist lips. My hands move up and I begin caressing your legs. My fingers running smoothly up and down from your hips to your knees. I slowly move my hands to the inside of your legs and gently spread your legs. My hands then run up your creamy thighs to your sex. I cup your sex in my right hand as I continue up your body with my left hand stopping at your navel. I caress your tummy and tease your cute little belly button as I run my middle finger along your slit. I gently run my fingertip between your lips wetting it slightly as my other hand caresses your left breast. I circle my fingers around your aureole avoiding contact with your nipple, getting closer and closer. Until I move my hand to your other breast, where I gently caress it as well. Running my fingers in concentric circles. Meanwhile my finger is slowly moving back and forth and making you wetter and wetter as I inch it further inside you. Finally, my finger lands on your clit makig you jump slightly, then moan as I continue to finger your clit with my hand wrapped around your perfect breast. “Do you want me to make you come?” I whisper gently into your ear. You nod your head. “I said do you want me to make you come?” I whisper again. “Yes,” you manage to whimper as I pinch your nipple and flick your clit. “Then say it.” “Please, make me… come.” Once you say this my hand comes up from your nipple tracing the line of your graceful neck. And I gently put my index finger and middle finger in my mouth. As I do this I continue the rhythmic flicking on your clit. I place my first two fingers at the opening of your sex and begin to move them back and forth across your slit. When they are wet enough with your juices I gently force them inside you slowly inch – by inch until I can’t push them in further. Then I twist my fingers up and graze your most sensitive of spots. I continue to flick your clit at a faster and faster pace. You start shaking, your bum pressed into my denim-covered cock. I continue to tickle your clit and switch from your G-spot to really quickly pushing my fingers inside you, then pulling them back out very quickly three or four times followed by two long slow strokes. As your body begins to tense up I increase the speed of tickling your clit and curl my fingers again. All of a sudden I feel you slump in the chair as you contract around my fingers. You lean your head back and whisper “That was wonderful.” I turn my head and kiss you deeply before removing your blindfold. “I love you so much.” I say, then kiss your neck until you regain your strength and get up. A Surprise Evening I came home the other night to an evening of unexpected pleasure. As it involves the man in my life, I asked his permission to share it. To my delight, he not only permitting me to write this, he insisted! Of course, he read the comments to my last entry and the sweet emails sent by some readers. I was afraid he might be angry that some readers were flirting with me, but he only laughed and told me that of all people, he could understand the delight that people found in me! I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him as hard as I could. My affection was returned and our kiss (OUR kiss - how sweet that sounds - something neither of us could make, apart) went on a long time, our lips in tender embrace, mine parted with his rough tongue exploring mine. His arms held me and once again I marveled at his strength and appreciated how tenderly he applied it. No woman has felt so loved and valued as I did at that moment. I loved him, I loved his affection, I loved his manhood, and I wanted just to be everything that he wanted me to be, forever. If he desired my submission, I would give it with all my heart and soul and imagination and being. If all he wanted was a sandwich, a salad, a cold glass of tea, I would provide the best one ever made. If his lust desired my body, I knew all the ways he would signal the exact pleasure that he imagined and he would have that and more, as much as I knew. I washed with a sense of appreciation for my womanhood and femininity and that he found fulfillment in me and what I was and what I offered to him, without reserve, not because of obligation but because what most fulfilled me was expressing my love for him. I don't always have this wonderful sense of my self and my place in that world - no one does. I do understand and feel obligation to him because of our relationship and the promises we've made each other. I have done things I didn't want to or didn't understand out of that sense - it's my bottom line, I guess you'd say. Outside of friendly teasing (and that, not for long), I have denied him nothing and he knows it. That he returns my devotion and submission with love and affection and respect and the sense that I can always trust him is a delight to me. I don't give to him because of that, but it is fulfilling. Every morning I wake with the sense that I am his wife and that I know what that means. There have been vanishingly few days that I didn't go to sleep feeling my life was that best any woman could know. Of course, as I've written, I've given a lot. Compared to what I've read about other relationships, I mean. I'm not bragging or proud, I would give more. Infinitely. Sorry to digress - we were kissing and still are! I wasn't thinking all those things, I was concentrating on his lips and tongue and arms, but a small part of my imagination wondered where this was going. His hands slid down my back and he rubbed my bottom roughly, pulling me tightly against him. This was unnecessary, since I was pressing myself against him already. I'm ashamed that this was involuntary, but I am human and a virile male was making love to me. My body responded by seeking closer congress. I try so hard to control myself, but I lust, people, just as you do. I felt his body responding to our embrace, which had moved just a bit past 'tender'. I marveled and thanked God silently that this man responded physically ...(kiss)...to....(kiss)...me...(kiss, again.) I felt his hands inching my skirt up. He didn't have far to go, as I have my clothes tailored in a way unique to me. For shorter hemlines, I find the length of skirt or dress that exactly fits the current fashion and then have it altered upward by one half inch. This allowance is my reminder to myself that I dress to be appropriate for society - attractive and desirable, yes, not provocative or slutty - then I raise the hem a bit to remind myself I am a sex object for him. It's for his ... convenience. (Ha - this will be the first time we've talked about this, I mean, when he reads it! I wonder what he'll say? See, Husband, one of the thousand secret ways I offer my everything to you.) Our kiss, sadly, ended and I lay my head on his chest, offering my neck to his mouth. This is both a vampire fantasy, an act of submission to his virility and strength, and a chance for me to draw in his smell, which always makes me ... respond. He kissed the top of my head, which smelled gently like strawberries, that evening, and pulled my skirt all the way up, then ran his fingers down in my panties. The touch of his fingers on this tender area gave me a gasp of pleasure and he began kneading the soft flesh, taking his pleasure what must feel very feminine. I could feel him responding to me, too. I felt his fingers separating my cheeks and then one finger began rimming the orifice he found. This was a special treat, as he knows how sensitive I am and how much I love his attention there. He reserves this play for special occasions when he's very, very pleased with me and wants me to understand that my offering to him tonight will be to enjoy the evening rather than to ensure my pleasure through his. I am instantly thrilled, not because I know he's very skilled at pleasing me, but because I know I've made him happy. I raise my head and look into his eyes. He sees my question and tells me he's read that article that I shared with you, dear readers, and the comments and emails it inspired. He knows my love and devotion and my philosophy of his happiness, but he appreciated my putting it in words. He is enchanted and delighted in the responses he saw and has dedicated tonight to my enchantment and delight. Unhappily, his finger moves away with a promise to return before I sleep. He pulls my panties back up and smoothed them over my buttocks, lingeringly, again, a promise. Finally, he pushes my skirt back down and holds me at arms length to tell me about our evening. I know you didn't come here to read about our public time together, but I'll share just a little so you understand my mood when my devoted Husband and I again are alone. He had engaged a couple we know as masseuses to assist in our preparation for dinner tonight. First, we spent an hour in a warm, candlelit room, sipping wine and talking to each other while the husband rubbed me down and the wife massaged my husband. To my delight, they switched back and forth between us, giving each of us the feel of masculine and feminine touch. The oils they use scent the air with exotic fragrance and provide a most enchanting atmosphere. Each of us gets the full treatment, alternately, so the other gets to watch their love brought to an orgasm in the desire of full relaxation. Finally, we relax nude on pillows on the floor, sip more wine, and watch the husband and wife please each other for our enjoyment. So much more fun than a movie, and this is just the prelude to our dinner! I am focused on enjoying this spectacle since that's why my husband told me to do, but I am his wife and I cannot help but look for his pleasure,as well. I receive several memorable smiles for my collection! Everyone showers together, laughing and playing, and the couple bathes us with the special products they provided for this purpose. We're dried and they assist us in dressing for a formal evening. My husband has purchased a gorgeous evening gown in emerald with matching heels for me and he's engaged my favorite lingerie shop to provide underthings for my enjoyment. I am spared the silly things men think we wear for any purpose but to please them, as this is my night! The female masseuse is a makeup artist, to boot, so I am pampered fully until I am ready. Finally, we kiss and hug the couple and wave good-by and pile into a waiting limousine. Of course there is champagne and cheese and fruit for the ride. My husband encourages me to snack freely and we kiss delightfully as we ride along. The maitre'd of our favorite restaurant has opened his own place and this is our first chance to try it! The place looks fabulous, decorated in the style of a French chateau, and is lit only by candles. The new patron introduces the entire wait-staff and then the cook and his minions. I suddenly realize we are the only customers, tonight! My husband smiles and tells me it's all for me. The meal, of course is fabulous and an orchestra permits us to fill pauses in the courses with dancing, so I know this is real dedication - my husband is an excellent dancer, but spoken charitably, he would never engage in the practice unless it was for my enjoyment. He knows I'm always ready for him in a physical sense, but that the music and wine and dancing make me especially receptive and responsive. Throughout, my love for this man washes over me again and again, like waves at the beach. Oh, I almost forgot. The patron whispered to my husband and he nodded, then turned and smiled at me. The maitre'd himself brought out a small covered dish and placed it on our table. Inside were two oyster shells, piled with an unusual white flesh rimmed in pink. He told us that these are very rare and prepared especially for us. I used a small fork to pick up the shellfish while my husband, the patron, and the maitre'd watched. The flavor was most unusual, starting with a mild seafood flavor, then ripening into something more earthy as I chewed. It was delicious and I was sad when I swallowed, looking up at the men to nod my appreciation. Then, I orgasmed. It was not my most intense, but it was definitely up there. The men watched while I came, my body spasming and my breathe gasping. I must have ended up bug-eyed and they looked a bit alarmed, wondering at my reaction. I burst out laughing and they relaxed and joined in. I jumped up from the table and kissed all three men, thanking them for the unique experience. We shared hugs and more laughter. I looked at the remaining plate and then at my husband. He smiled and nodded but he'd misunderstood me - I told him I wanted him to eat it. More laughter, then the patron told us that sadly, the fish had not the same effect upon men. I grinned salaciously and told him that I'd have it, "To Go". They all died laughing at my joke and then cleared the table. I leaned over and kissed my husband and told him that I didn't need any help tonight, did I, since I had him? He affirmed my query with a smile and asked the maitre'd to order our limousine. As we got in, I told my husband I hoped he didn't expect me to wait until we got home for the pleasure of his touch. He tried to act surprised, but I know him too well. He knows I enjoy sex in a car and this was an unusual splendor of room and pleasant surroundings. He gave instructions to the driver and the privacy panel raised. He took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly and stroked my shoulders passionately. I signaled my desire by throwing my head back, offering my décolletage for his lips. He began kissing his favorite place, just above my breasts and I felt him unzipping the gown - I think he had the dress shop explain just how to remove it in close quarters! Soon, he had the lovely green demi-bra exposed and his kisses moved all over my shoulders and neck, then back to my breasts. I felt the clasp release and my breasts fell free, the air in the limo cool to my nipples. I gasped then felt the warmth of his mouth surround first one, then the other. He's so very, very good at this, one arm behind me, holding me up to his head, the other caressing, rubbing, pinching, teasing whichever breast his mouth left free. In its' spare time, one hand began rubbing my belly. A few minutes of this and I'm desperate for him to take further liberties. My knees quit pressing together in a ladylike pose some time ago and I'm making involuntary thrusts like I'm feel him already between my legs. He lays me back on the car seat and my nostrils fill with the odor of real leather and saddle soap. Am I the only woman that is encouraged by such things? I kick off my heels and thrust my hips upward and demand that my gown be fully removed with such passion that both of us burst out laughing. This is the most realistic laughter there is, readers, and is borne of our love for each other, our passion for one another's pleasure, our appreciation for the erotic symphony we've created and yes, of pure lust. Of being pleasured and enjoying it and demanding more of someone who you know is going to provide it, and not just this time, but tomorrow and the next day and the next day...but then, there's right now. He releases another clasp and a small zipper at my waist and I feel the gown slide down my legs. An expensive pair of silk pantyhose is all that's between him and my most intimate area. I see his eyes pose a question to mine and I beg him that we can always buy another pair that for now I want him to take me as hard as he can as quick as he can. He pulls a pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket and gives me a no-nonsense look. Now, readers, this night is mine and you don't need to confuse this with a change of mood. I love having my wrists bound while my husband does whatever he wants with me - I simply love it. He bends over me and clasps my wrists in one hand and fastens the cuffs through the door handle so that I'm spread across the seat in a most vulnerable fashion. My eyes and naked breasts look up and him and a pair of silken (and sodden) pantyhose cover my belly and the rich, luxuriant growth of hair covering my pubis. He insists I wear it natural in the winter and, of course, I comply with devotion and satisfaction that there's one more way that I can please and tempt him. He slides one hand under my butt and raises it off the seat. He pulls a switchblade out of the pocket of his jacket (when did he get that?) and moves the point opposite my pussy. My eyes widen in fear until he smiles. He tells me to hold my hips up and slides his fingers inside the hose, holding it away from my skin, and then slices the hosiery with the razor-sharp knife until it splits away, filling the back seat with the aroma of lust provided by a woman who's waited way too long this evening for her husband's most intimate attention. With a snick the blade snaps back into the handle and he places a blindfold over my eyes. Another fetish, dear reader, and you can tell by now I enjoy my toys, can't you?. The darkness is filled with the sound of him removing his jacket, his shirt, his shoes, trousers, and underwear. When you've been together for a while, you can interpret the sounds and my imagination fills with lust for what I know is the scene before me. These kept me on the plateau of pleasure as I considered the unspoken promise yet unfulfilled. A hand sneaks under my ass and the finger finds its' little friend yet once again and the delicious rimming continues just where it left off. Another finger finds its' way into my pussy, first pinching and stroking the lips and mons, finally entering and trying a dozen spots to caress to elicit a gasp of response. This is his tease - he knows where to touch, how hard, and when, but he denies me in the most exquisite fashion. When I think I cannot stand it anymore, I feel his lips join the game, sucking and licking and nipping, the tongue moving everywhere but to my center in an infinite counterpoint. I'm grinding against his mouth, careful not to move away from those incredible fingers, occasionally involuntarily moving to encourage their deeper exploration. I've lost all sense of time and place and am filled with only the raw sensations at the center of my pleasure. Somewhere in the middle of all this, he suddenly turns me on my tummy, I cry out in my desire,and my ass raises voluntarily to what I desire most, his powerful masculine service. I feel fingers fucking my ass, (dear, sweet Husband, please hurry!) two, then three, (I'm fucking his hand wildly) from somewhere a warm lubricant spills over my bottom (Oh, please, I beg you, please!) and I feel his sex tease the opening, the soft touch all around the rim, again, again, (You bastard, no more, its' ready, its' ready!) but I still feel the gentle, controlled stretch of the soft head (How does he control himself?) now, finally plundering (Yes!), first gently, then forcefully popping inside me. I moan (scream?) my pleasure (isn't the driver hearing all this? - I don't care I don't care I don't care) and my husband begins a rhythm of irregular strokes, some short, some long, the pattern impossible to predict, I try to force back for more and more as I come to enjoy the longer ones and then and then and then I press back against him to the fullest and I explode...this is my peak, my best, my best ever, I cannot ever have better, it ... goes ... on ... and on ... and ... I return to this world. I'm still cuffed and blindfolded, totally helpless to his attentions. I feel the hair of his thighs against my buttocks and the throbbing of his orgasm as he empties into me. I try to move to give him more pleasure, but I'm helpless in my afterglow, sated to exhaustion. I hear him laugh when he realizes he's utterly defeated me. He removes the blindfold and handcuffs and covers my neck and back with kisses as I recover. From somewhere a warm towel makes it to my hands and I roll over and wipe him off, first, to say 'Thank you' in our wordless language of true intimacy, then I clean myself. He stops me, throws the towel to the floor, takes me in his arms and asks me if I know he loves me? Silly man.