A Quiet Night....

As ever, it began quietly. A look, an 'accidentally' raised hemline, stooping just too low allowing the valley of my breasts to cascade across your view as I brought you your wine.  I think it was twenty minutes ago that I abandoned all pretence of this being a normalcy when I was instructed not to speak and to do as told.  I had to hide my smile behind a gasp.  And so the game was afoot. Sitting before you awaiting your next request you asked that I put the radio on.

You watched as I raised one side of my hemline in my right hand (a habit) revealing my stockinged calves, accentuated by five inch heels, each step a precise beat echoed within your veins. I bent at the waist to turn the music on, hopefully framing the heart of my behind.  Your eyes casually moving over my hips and down my legs.  My every move seemingly a perfectly calculated tactic within this conflict. As I turned your eyes seemed to darken, with what I cannot know.  My eyes dropped back to the carpeted floor of your hotel room.  I knew you'd been watching me and I couldn't help but smile in that knowledge.  

I moved to stand in front of you and risked a glance at your face. You weren't looking at me, more through me, indifference perhaps. The song on the radio was building and I could feel myself wanting to speak or provoke a reaction of some kind.  I'm definitely unaccustomed to this.  I keep fighting the urge to burst into song or chatter away like we did over dinner only an hour before.  I turn to face away from you, it's all I could think to do since you were giving no signals, no clues.  I figured I best amuse myself. I closed my eyes allowing you to enjoy the show without breaking the spell I was hoping I was weaving around us.  

It was unnerving being watched so silently by you and in fact nothing has ever held my attention quite like it.  I raised my hands high and slowly let my body lead the show.  Feeling the music, eyes closed and swaying to the rhythm.

This continued for a while until that moment when I lowered my hands to my shirt buttons and slowly undid each one, I slid the material from my shoulders, it slowly fell down from my arms and my back and it dropped unceremoniously at your feet.  The white lace of my garter chemise provoking.......Nothing.

I began to push the waist of my skirt down. One long languorous movement slowly revealing first one fleshy hip and outer thigh than the other all the way to the tops of the vintage stockings with their pale blue lace flowers at the band before the material slipped carelessly from my fingers.   A momentary pause, calculated for full effect, and then with a deep breath and a sway of my hips I turned to face you again, in only my white lace lingerie, no panties and heels. An image of I don't know what in front of you, waiting for something, anything!

I stepped forward and my slow dance  became more personal. Your eyes now unnecessary, redundant before my smell and touch. Skin brushed on skin as I moved over you. My hands ran through your hair and along your cheeks. My legs stretched across your lap opening my pussy to rub against you. The short gasps this brought forth from me adding to the raw assault on your senses that I hoped I had become. On and on my mind reeled as it tried to make sense of the information it was receiving. My breasts traced the contours of you as I moved. Please let me break through every barrier as quickly as you seemed to erect them. Sweat rose on the back of your neck as you fight instinct. Fighting, fighting. Resisting. You are in charge. I must wait.  I must wait for your instruction.  But I don't want to wait.

As I place my cheek and gently rub it along yours your arms lash out and before I can register I am face down over your lap, the noise of the spilled wine glass shattering lost in the sudden thundering in my ears. My eyes dart back and forth as shock and fear courses through me.  My efforts to roll away from you ..... futile at best as your strong arms pin me in place over your knees.

But as I catch the look in your eyes, all thought of escape leaves me.  My lips curl upwards at the corners of my mouth, the only outward betrayal of the calmness enveloping me.  This is what I have requested, what I was unwittingly trying to ask for; and as you raise your hand over my exposed buttocks I accept what is to come.....

I wish I could say I'm truly ready Master Pie, please be "gentle"....... afterwards for I know not what I do.