Another story imagined from real events that helped fuel my over active imagination. I hope you like the story of
The Candy Girl:
The Candy Girl:
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
It had started out a normal day. Early morning sex, a quick breakfast, a shower to freshen up and off to work. The day flew by like so many do these days. My workload had gotten more intense and I was spending less time watching the clock and more time entrenched in the latest problem to solve. It wasn't a bad thing to be occupied, just not my usual easy going self. I drove home in the afternoon sunshine, enjoying the change from the overcast and infrequent showers that February and March usually bring to the Atlanta area. As usual I parked the car and walked down the hill to check my mail before retiring to my apartment. That was when the day ceased to be normal and became something exquisitely decadent.
In the mail was a small manilla envelope, the kind that has bubble wrap inside to protect the contents. I couldn't figure out who would send me a package. It was too small for a book, DVD or CD, the normal fare I ordered off of Amazon. It was a hand written address, in a very precise and fluid cursive writing that you normally see on marketing junk mail. You know, the ones designed to look authentic in order to entice you to open it instead of throw it away immediately. That was my first thought, but I could feel something inside, not just some ad promoting the newest most exciting vacation share property built in Florida. I looked closer at the envelope, the writing was genuine, not just an cleverly designed font printed with an ink-jet. The paper was indented from an actual pen. I didn't recognize the return address either, I didn't know anyone with that name.
Good afternoon! I heard a woman's voice say. Startled from my detective work I looked up to see my neighbor picking up her mail while she walked the dog. I smiled and waved back. It isn't a very social apartment complex, but I do like to say hello when I meet my neighbors. Picking up the rest of my mail and my briefcase I headed back up the short hill to my apartment. I dropped my briefcase in the usual spot, placing my keys on their hook and my wallet on the shelf below them. I have learned to embrace my OCD tendencies, they don't make me check the lock three times to be sure but they do seem to keep me from losing things.
Once my after work ritual was done, I returned to the desk and the mysterious envelope. When I opened it and dumped its contents on the desk I was surprised and overjoyed. I had forgotten about the pervy request I had made a few weeks back. A hectic work schedule and full social calendar had seen to that. But now the extremely hot video of her wearing the candy necklace and squirming delightfully in front of the camera came flooding back to me. I immediately picked up the candy and held it to my nose, trying to pick her scent from the sugary bites strung on the elastic band. The necklace had been in the mail for a couple weeks, any scent of her was long gone. I smiled appreciatively, the thought that she had done me that favor was enough. I love my friends!
I sat down at the computer to post a thank you to her before retiring to the bedroom to take care of the erection I felt screaming to get out of it's prison of cotton and linen slacks. That was when I noticed the small scrap of paper poking out of the envelope. She sent me a note too! my mind squealed like a teenaged girl at a boy band concert. I tried to get myself under control thinking that I was silly for getting all geeked up about someone I had never met, but it was useless. I have no control over my crushes any more than I have conscious control over my gall bladder. I read the note. It was a short one. It read: 818-555-8472 Call me when you get this!
My hands were shaking as I picked up my cell phone to dial the number. After three tries I was finally able to make the design which unlocked the keypad. It took another three just get the number correct. When the phone stopped ringing I heard the sultry voice of a woman answer Hello? she said. I introduced myself and I heard her voice pick up an octave. Oh hello there D. She used my name and it rolled off her lips like honey dripping onto your tongue from fresh honeycomb, warm and sticky sweet. The sound of it made me turn to jell-o and I stammered. Is this y-you?. My inner voice, clearly more in control of things than my brain, ridiculed me. Oh, like that makes sense, of course she is! Like you answer your phone and say 'Hi it's me!'? I distinctly heard it say. Y-you isn't very descriptive she mocked, laughing a bit at her own joke. Who do you want it to be? I heard her ask. That inner voice knew. In fact it offered up many names, her online name, the name on the envelope, Ass-tastic, SMOKIN'..and many others much more raunchy which had been used before during masturbatory fantasies about her. My brain however, struck by some acute form of paralysis, answered back The Candy Girl. My inner voice burst out laughing Really?!? The Candy Girl? Is that the best you can do?. Sometimes I hate that inner voice. This was one of those times.
She responded Yes, that is me I suppose. So you got it? My brain, working on it's own with the laughter of that inner voice still echoing off the insides of my skull, answered Yes. I did.. Good she replied. I see you take instruction well. I nod, then, realizing she can't see me, I quickly stammer Yes, I do my best. She laughs. Her voice sounds like good blues when she laughs, deep and rhythmic affecting me at a visceral level that I cannot completely describe. Have you eaten it or did you call immediately? Shocked I reply No, of course not. I had planned on savoring it and wanted to call and thank you first. That's good she remarks, because I have plans for you. You don't mind if we play a little game for my entertainment do you? A game! I love games! My inner voice stops laughing at me long enough to interject. Of course not I respond, my mind racing inside my head. What game? How long will it last? What if she asks you to do something you don't like? What are the rules of this game? What do I get if I win? Finally I am able to get a conscious thought in edgewise and ask What kind of game?. It's like Simon Says, except that I won't try to trick you. Her voice has a musical quality, light and bouncy as if she is enjoying the mystique, You just have to do what I say. You do trust me don't you?
My inner voice goes wild again. I barely know you. How can I trust you? You don't know me. How can you possibly know what I will and will not do? Even if I agree how will you know whether I am lying? Why would you even agree to play if you were going to lie? What's the worst she can ask you to do? She is miles away in a different state, why not play along? It will be fun! Of course I trust you! I say, having burned through the previous questions in less than a second. It's amazing the speed at which your mind can work when it wants to. What I really meant was that I trusted myself to be OK with whatever she could possibly ask of me. In the end, trust is more about yourself than it is about the other person. You cannot control anyone else, it is folly to try. You can however control your reactions to what they do or say. I trust myself to be able to handle anything she might throw my way, so I agree to play her game. What would you have me do? I ask.
Now that you have accepted she says, Grab the necklace and hold it up to your face. Do you smell it?. Yes I say, but it has been too long, it only smells like candy to me. Then you'll have to pretend I guess she says with a bit of sarcasm. I smile. I like this woman. She doesn't take things too seriously and likes to have fun. Close your eyes she commands. I do so. I take a few deep breaths with my eyes closed, focusing on her voice, letting it become my world. I hear the soft timber of her voice as it speaks to me, channeling my thoughts in whichever direction she leads me. I put the phone on speaker and lay it on the desk beside me, trying to imagine her sitting next to me telling me what to do.
I want you to picture that video, see the necklace on my neck as I pull it down between my tits. It stretches delightfully, the small compressed discs sliding along her tan skin inked with brilliant colors, I can almost hear the beads clink together as she moves them down along her body. Her voice drifts into that vision, helping to form it. I watch as she pulls the necklace further down, rubbing a few of the candies between her legs. She takes the necklace off, bunching it up and smearing her pussy all over it, then offers the necklace to me, placing it under my nose. Can you smell it now? I hear her sultry voice say. Yes, it smells wonderful I say, the scent of her beginning to excite my loins, stirring sexual desires in me. Does it smell good she asks from the phone. Of course it does! I reply, my eyes still closed, my senses fully engaged in the fantasy she is spinning for me.
She tells me to lick the candy, letting the tip of my tongue play along the edge, tasting the sweet sugary treat covered in her feminine scent. Reach down with your spare hand and caress yourself she orders. My hand complies without me having to think about it, I am her marionette, her voice is my strings. What she says I will do, my pleasure will be to experience first hand what she has dreamed up for me. Unzip your pants and pull your cock out I tug at my zipper, working it slowly down with one hand and fish my now rigid cock out of my underwear. Stroke it for me while I dance for you she says, taking the necklace back and rubbing it seductively up her thigh back to that sweet pussy of hers. I stroke my cock, slowly running my fingers up the length of it before starting the downward stroke, equally as slow. Her gyrations are mesmerizing, her voice soothing. I imagine my cock in her cunt, as she grinds those hips standing in front of me swaying back and forth. It is easy to picture her straddling me as she moves those hips in slow lazy circles, the candy necklace being used to lift her breasts. I want to suck on them, pull those nipples into my mouth and dart my tongue around them like a horse on a track, but she has not asked that of me. I continue to slowly stroke my cock, watching her dance, pulling the necklace down across her beautiful ass as she bends over in front of me. I can see the dark folds of skin peeking out between her thighs, summoning to me. I only stroke my cock, my hand running up and down the shaft, caressing the soft skin and running my fingers over the bulging veins.
She commands me to the bedroom and asks me to remove my clothes. I get up, opening my eyes long enough to grab the phone and make my way to the bedroom. My shirt is left on the living room floor, my pants in the doorway. Socks and underwear are tossed in the general direction of the closet hamper and the phone is set down on the pillow next to my head so I can hear her sweet voice. I'm there in the room with you, can you see me? she asks. I respond Yes having shut my eyes again and entered back into the fantasy. Stroke your cock, I want to watch you masturbate she commands. I comply, stroking my cock a bit faster now, my hand sliding up and down the skin with barely enough pressure to keep it in contact with the base of my fingers. Tell me what you imagine me doing when you masturbate she says. My eyes still closed I say You climb on the bed, running a hand up my leg to my cock stroking my cock while I imagine her long slender fingers being dragged lightly up the sensitive inseam of my thigh. You caress my balls and grip the base of my cock with your hand, bending down to kiss it gently on the head. I moan, my hand sliding up my cock and pausing briefly while my thumb flicks across the head of penis, giving me the sensation of soft lips touching me there, before descending again.
I lay there for a few seconds stroking my shaft and moaning lightly at the thought of her actually there, her warm breath washing over my penis, teasing it with the presence of a warm wet mouth but denying it the pleasure of a blow job. Go on I hear her prod. Tell me more. What do I do next? I continue to use my hand to pleasure myself, saying You straddle my chest, pushing your ass up where I can see it, but far enough away that I can't lick it. I feel your hand stroke my cock while the tip of your tongue licks the head. My hand strokes my cock and I feel my hips thrust as if to force my penis into the imaginary mouth that it yearns to feel. You make me beg for your pussy before shoving it back into my face. I moan louder, the scent of her womanhood is strong in my nostrils, my tongue tastes her sweet cunt and I rub my face into her wantonly. My cock is solid in my hand, and I can feel the first stirrings of an orgasm starting at the base of it. I stroke it a bit faster. I can hear my breathing getting louder and more sharp. I lick my lips, imagining her cunt in my face, her body pressed down on mine in a 69 position as she strokes my cock, occasionally licking the head of it to remind me that her mouth is still there, still denying me that pleasure. I wrap my hands around your thighs and pull you onto me, licking your now wet pussy with my tongue and using my lips to caress your labia as I dig deeper into your cunt with it. I can feel the my cock start to throb, my breathing is ragged now, I am having a hard time speaking and the orgasm is imminent.
I can feel you.. I start to say, sucking air into my lungs before continuing ...thrusting your hips against my face. Another ragged breath of air and I gasp grinding yourself into my mouth letting me know how much you are enjoying my skills. I moan even louder now, my hand still working up and down my cock. Careful now, you don't want the neighbors to hear you I hear her say on the phone. Fuck em I gasp, This will be over soon. I imagine her body on mine, the weight of it pressing on my chest. I imagine the heat of her cunt on my tongue and her mouth mere fractions of an inch from my penis and I tense my legs, the pressure of orgasm is building.
Suddenly there is a knock at the door. Crap. I say, I don't need this right now I stroke my cock faster thrusting it into my hand now as if I were fucking that mouth. They can wait I mumble as I moan again, my need to cum an imperative. You're not going to answer the door? I hear her ask incredulously. No I reply, still stroking my cock. The knocking gets louder, I am finding it hard to concentrate on the fantasy with her comments and the person a few feet away waiting patiently for me to come to the door. You should stop and send them away she says This is interrupting our play time. I'm so close, but she is correct. If I am going to finish this, I would prefer to do it without some stranger listening in from outside of my apartment. I'll be right back I say to her as I scoop up my jeans from the floor and hop my way to the shirt in the living room. I pull the shirt on and open the door. I'm sorry, I don't need any magazine subscriptions or church invite.. My voice is cut off abruptly as I look up into the prettiest green eyes I have ever seen.
She is standing there, wearing a long dark coat, a black beret hangs off her head to the side, showing delicate curls of brunette hair dangling from underneath it. Her make up is perfect, rose red lips and just enough blush to add a bit of color to her already dark complexion. She is wearing a wonderful pair of ankle boots with open toes over her fish net stockings. I can't seem to say anything, the paralysis returning to my brain and infecting my entire body. She smiles up at me as she closes her phone and drops it in the pocket of her jacket. She pushes past me into my apartment and I mechanically close the door behind us. She drops the coat to the floor, revealing a black and red lace teddy on top of the black lace garter holding up her thigh high fish net stockings. Now where were we? that sultry voice says as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards the bedroom...
It had started out a normal day. Early morning sex, a quick breakfast, a shower to freshen up and off to work. The day flew by like so many do these days. My workload had gotten more intense and I was spending less time watching the clock and more time entrenched in the latest problem to solve. It wasn't a bad thing to be occupied, just not my usual easy going self. I drove home in the afternoon sunshine, enjoying the change from the overcast and infrequent showers that February and March usually bring to the Atlanta area. As usual I parked the car and walked down the hill to check my mail before retiring to my apartment. That was when the day ceased to be normal and became something exquisitely decadent.
In the mail was a small manilla envelope, the kind that has bubble wrap inside to protect the contents. I couldn't figure out who would send me a package. It was too small for a book, DVD or CD, the normal fare I ordered off of Amazon. It was a hand written address, in a very precise and fluid cursive writing that you normally see on marketing junk mail. You know, the ones designed to look authentic in order to entice you to open it instead of throw it away immediately. That was my first thought, but I could feel something inside, not just some ad promoting the newest most exciting vacation share property built in Florida. I looked closer at the envelope, the writing was genuine, not just an cleverly designed font printed with an ink-jet. The paper was indented from an actual pen. I didn't recognize the return address either, I didn't know anyone with that name.
Good afternoon! I heard a woman's voice say. Startled from my detective work I looked up to see my neighbor picking up her mail while she walked the dog. I smiled and waved back. It isn't a very social apartment complex, but I do like to say hello when I meet my neighbors. Picking up the rest of my mail and my briefcase I headed back up the short hill to my apartment. I dropped my briefcase in the usual spot, placing my keys on their hook and my wallet on the shelf below them. I have learned to embrace my OCD tendencies, they don't make me check the lock three times to be sure but they do seem to keep me from losing things.
Once my after work ritual was done, I returned to the desk and the mysterious envelope. When I opened it and dumped its contents on the desk I was surprised and overjoyed. I had forgotten about the pervy request I had made a few weeks back. A hectic work schedule and full social calendar had seen to that. But now the extremely hot video of her wearing the candy necklace and squirming delightfully in front of the camera came flooding back to me. I immediately picked up the candy and held it to my nose, trying to pick her scent from the sugary bites strung on the elastic band. The necklace had been in the mail for a couple weeks, any scent of her was long gone. I smiled appreciatively, the thought that she had done me that favor was enough. I love my friends!
I sat down at the computer to post a thank you to her before retiring to the bedroom to take care of the erection I felt screaming to get out of it's prison of cotton and linen slacks. That was when I noticed the small scrap of paper poking out of the envelope. She sent me a note too! my mind squealed like a teenaged girl at a boy band concert. I tried to get myself under control thinking that I was silly for getting all geeked up about someone I had never met, but it was useless. I have no control over my crushes any more than I have conscious control over my gall bladder. I read the note. It was a short one. It read: 818-555-8472 Call me when you get this!
My hands were shaking as I picked up my cell phone to dial the number. After three tries I was finally able to make the design which unlocked the keypad. It took another three just get the number correct. When the phone stopped ringing I heard the sultry voice of a woman answer Hello? she said. I introduced myself and I heard her voice pick up an octave. Oh hello there D. She used my name and it rolled off her lips like honey dripping onto your tongue from fresh honeycomb, warm and sticky sweet. The sound of it made me turn to jell-o and I stammered. Is this y-you?. My inner voice, clearly more in control of things than my brain, ridiculed me. Oh, like that makes sense, of course she is! Like you answer your phone and say 'Hi it's me!'? I distinctly heard it say. Y-you isn't very descriptive she mocked, laughing a bit at her own joke. Who do you want it to be? I heard her ask. That inner voice knew. In fact it offered up many names, her online name, the name on the envelope, Ass-tastic, SMOKIN'..and many others much more raunchy which had been used before during masturbatory fantasies about her. My brain however, struck by some acute form of paralysis, answered back The Candy Girl. My inner voice burst out laughing Really?!? The Candy Girl? Is that the best you can do?. Sometimes I hate that inner voice. This was one of those times.
She responded Yes, that is me I suppose. So you got it? My brain, working on it's own with the laughter of that inner voice still echoing off the insides of my skull, answered Yes. I did.. Good she replied. I see you take instruction well. I nod, then, realizing she can't see me, I quickly stammer Yes, I do my best. She laughs. Her voice sounds like good blues when she laughs, deep and rhythmic affecting me at a visceral level that I cannot completely describe. Have you eaten it or did you call immediately? Shocked I reply No, of course not. I had planned on savoring it and wanted to call and thank you first. That's good she remarks, because I have plans for you. You don't mind if we play a little game for my entertainment do you? A game! I love games! My inner voice stops laughing at me long enough to interject. Of course not I respond, my mind racing inside my head. What game? How long will it last? What if she asks you to do something you don't like? What are the rules of this game? What do I get if I win? Finally I am able to get a conscious thought in edgewise and ask What kind of game?. It's like Simon Says, except that I won't try to trick you. Her voice has a musical quality, light and bouncy as if she is enjoying the mystique, You just have to do what I say. You do trust me don't you?
My inner voice goes wild again. I barely know you. How can I trust you? You don't know me. How can you possibly know what I will and will not do? Even if I agree how will you know whether I am lying? Why would you even agree to play if you were going to lie? What's the worst she can ask you to do? She is miles away in a different state, why not play along? It will be fun! Of course I trust you! I say, having burned through the previous questions in less than a second. It's amazing the speed at which your mind can work when it wants to. What I really meant was that I trusted myself to be OK with whatever she could possibly ask of me. In the end, trust is more about yourself than it is about the other person. You cannot control anyone else, it is folly to try. You can however control your reactions to what they do or say. I trust myself to be able to handle anything she might throw my way, so I agree to play her game. What would you have me do? I ask.
Now that you have accepted she says, Grab the necklace and hold it up to your face. Do you smell it?. Yes I say, but it has been too long, it only smells like candy to me. Then you'll have to pretend I guess she says with a bit of sarcasm. I smile. I like this woman. She doesn't take things too seriously and likes to have fun. Close your eyes she commands. I do so. I take a few deep breaths with my eyes closed, focusing on her voice, letting it become my world. I hear the soft timber of her voice as it speaks to me, channeling my thoughts in whichever direction she leads me. I put the phone on speaker and lay it on the desk beside me, trying to imagine her sitting next to me telling me what to do.
I want you to picture that video, see the necklace on my neck as I pull it down between my tits. It stretches delightfully, the small compressed discs sliding along her tan skin inked with brilliant colors, I can almost hear the beads clink together as she moves them down along her body. Her voice drifts into that vision, helping to form it. I watch as she pulls the necklace further down, rubbing a few of the candies between her legs. She takes the necklace off, bunching it up and smearing her pussy all over it, then offers the necklace to me, placing it under my nose. Can you smell it now? I hear her sultry voice say. Yes, it smells wonderful I say, the scent of her beginning to excite my loins, stirring sexual desires in me. Does it smell good she asks from the phone. Of course it does! I reply, my eyes still closed, my senses fully engaged in the fantasy she is spinning for me.
She tells me to lick the candy, letting the tip of my tongue play along the edge, tasting the sweet sugary treat covered in her feminine scent. Reach down with your spare hand and caress yourself she orders. My hand complies without me having to think about it, I am her marionette, her voice is my strings. What she says I will do, my pleasure will be to experience first hand what she has dreamed up for me. Unzip your pants and pull your cock out I tug at my zipper, working it slowly down with one hand and fish my now rigid cock out of my underwear. Stroke it for me while I dance for you she says, taking the necklace back and rubbing it seductively up her thigh back to that sweet pussy of hers. I stroke my cock, slowly running my fingers up the length of it before starting the downward stroke, equally as slow. Her gyrations are mesmerizing, her voice soothing. I imagine my cock in her cunt, as she grinds those hips standing in front of me swaying back and forth. It is easy to picture her straddling me as she moves those hips in slow lazy circles, the candy necklace being used to lift her breasts. I want to suck on them, pull those nipples into my mouth and dart my tongue around them like a horse on a track, but she has not asked that of me. I continue to slowly stroke my cock, watching her dance, pulling the necklace down across her beautiful ass as she bends over in front of me. I can see the dark folds of skin peeking out between her thighs, summoning to me. I only stroke my cock, my hand running up and down the shaft, caressing the soft skin and running my fingers over the bulging veins.
She commands me to the bedroom and asks me to remove my clothes. I get up, opening my eyes long enough to grab the phone and make my way to the bedroom. My shirt is left on the living room floor, my pants in the doorway. Socks and underwear are tossed in the general direction of the closet hamper and the phone is set down on the pillow next to my head so I can hear her sweet voice. I'm there in the room with you, can you see me? she asks. I respond Yes having shut my eyes again and entered back into the fantasy. Stroke your cock, I want to watch you masturbate she commands. I comply, stroking my cock a bit faster now, my hand sliding up and down the skin with barely enough pressure to keep it in contact with the base of my fingers. Tell me what you imagine me doing when you masturbate she says. My eyes still closed I say You climb on the bed, running a hand up my leg to my cock stroking my cock while I imagine her long slender fingers being dragged lightly up the sensitive inseam of my thigh. You caress my balls and grip the base of my cock with your hand, bending down to kiss it gently on the head. I moan, my hand sliding up my cock and pausing briefly while my thumb flicks across the head of penis, giving me the sensation of soft lips touching me there, before descending again.
I lay there for a few seconds stroking my shaft and moaning lightly at the thought of her actually there, her warm breath washing over my penis, teasing it with the presence of a warm wet mouth but denying it the pleasure of a blow job. Go on I hear her prod. Tell me more. What do I do next? I continue to use my hand to pleasure myself, saying You straddle my chest, pushing your ass up where I can see it, but far enough away that I can't lick it. I feel your hand stroke my cock while the tip of your tongue licks the head. My hand strokes my cock and I feel my hips thrust as if to force my penis into the imaginary mouth that it yearns to feel. You make me beg for your pussy before shoving it back into my face. I moan louder, the scent of her womanhood is strong in my nostrils, my tongue tastes her sweet cunt and I rub my face into her wantonly. My cock is solid in my hand, and I can feel the first stirrings of an orgasm starting at the base of it. I stroke it a bit faster. I can hear my breathing getting louder and more sharp. I lick my lips, imagining her cunt in my face, her body pressed down on mine in a 69 position as she strokes my cock, occasionally licking the head of it to remind me that her mouth is still there, still denying me that pleasure. I wrap my hands around your thighs and pull you onto me, licking your now wet pussy with my tongue and using my lips to caress your labia as I dig deeper into your cunt with it. I can feel the my cock start to throb, my breathing is ragged now, I am having a hard time speaking and the orgasm is imminent.
I can feel you.. I start to say, sucking air into my lungs before continuing ...thrusting your hips against my face. Another ragged breath of air and I gasp grinding yourself into my mouth letting me know how much you are enjoying my skills. I moan even louder now, my hand still working up and down my cock. Careful now, you don't want the neighbors to hear you I hear her say on the phone. Fuck em I gasp, This will be over soon. I imagine her body on mine, the weight of it pressing on my chest. I imagine the heat of her cunt on my tongue and her mouth mere fractions of an inch from my penis and I tense my legs, the pressure of orgasm is building.
Suddenly there is a knock at the door. Crap. I say, I don't need this right now I stroke my cock faster thrusting it into my hand now as if I were fucking that mouth. They can wait I mumble as I moan again, my need to cum an imperative. You're not going to answer the door? I hear her ask incredulously. No I reply, still stroking my cock. The knocking gets louder, I am finding it hard to concentrate on the fantasy with her comments and the person a few feet away waiting patiently for me to come to the door. You should stop and send them away she says This is interrupting our play time. I'm so close, but she is correct. If I am going to finish this, I would prefer to do it without some stranger listening in from outside of my apartment. I'll be right back I say to her as I scoop up my jeans from the floor and hop my way to the shirt in the living room. I pull the shirt on and open the door. I'm sorry, I don't need any magazine subscriptions or church invite.. My voice is cut off abruptly as I look up into the prettiest green eyes I have ever seen.
She is standing there, wearing a long dark coat, a black beret hangs off her head to the side, showing delicate curls of brunette hair dangling from underneath it. Her make up is perfect, rose red lips and just enough blush to add a bit of color to her already dark complexion. She is wearing a wonderful pair of ankle boots with open toes over her fish net stockings. I can't seem to say anything, the paralysis returning to my brain and infecting my entire body. She smiles up at me as she closes her phone and drops it in the pocket of her jacket. She pushes past me into my apartment and I mechanically close the door behind us. She drops the coat to the floor, revealing a black and red lace teddy on top of the black lace garter holding up her thigh high fish net stockings. Now where were we? that sultry voice says as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards the bedroom...
Yes, this one was for you. Hope you like it. 
ellemayra:
thank you 