|Blogs > supinefeline > one relaxed cat|
When I ask her if has been done as I said, she nods bashfully. "No panties?" A nod. "No bra?" A nod. "Garter belt?" A nod.
We are drinking coffee in a well lit coffee shop at the station, but still I slip my hand over her hip bone to feel her pubic hair close under her skirt, the stays of the belt taut under the pull of her stockings! She has come as directed, no pants, no bra, high leather boots and a garter belt with stockings! A tight, black, satin skirt completes the bottom, a satin camisole and black blazer the top.
On the way to the hotel I cannot resist the urge to slide my hand up between her ass cheeks as she walks up the stairs ahead of me out of the station. Her hand quickly pushes me away but her skirt clings to the valley of her perfect ass,if only for a moment.
Finally, in the elevator at the hotel, desire overwhelmes us. The crash of our lips meeting, hips grinding together. Quickly the skirt is hiked and her hips proferred to my waiting mouth. Panty-less, her dripping pubis is framed by the garter stays, and easily available to my probing tongue. I taste her honey, sweet and sticky, and...
...the door opens. We are still in the lobby! In our hurry, in our desire, we haven't pressed the floor button. A woman enters. Uncomfortable silence.