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Have you ever woken up with the feeling that the day somehow had something special installed for you? Hmm, well, this morning felt just like that. But unlike other occasions when the promise ended by delivering up something good, this morning the sensation had a ring of apprehension about it. Don’t ask me how I knew, that’s just the way it felt to me right that minute, deep in my gut. I may not have all that many years of experience tucked in my belt, but those I have have taught me to heed my ‘gut feeling’, my intuition.
“Bugger!,” I moaned to myself as I hauled my weary body from the rumpled sheets. The show must go on, time stands still for no woman … clichés began scrolling across my mind’s window. I cast a saddened glance at the empty bed then, following a few minutes of ritualistic stretching, I padded my way into the kitchen. Reaching into the refrigerator for the carton of pulp-free orange juice, so recently squeezed and shipped to me from the sunny south as announced proudly by the all too bright lettering, I leaned back against the cool granite counter and sipped the refreshing fluid, letting it slip down my throat while gazing out at a dreary grey day filtering through the warm wooden slatted blinds. My mind began its habitual scanning of the day’s schedule, noting several staff and management meetings, lunch with a new client (promising?), yet more meetings, then the arrival time of your flight from the coast. A silky smirk of a smile drew itself across my lips and I ran the tip of my tongue around them savoring the juice glistening there. “Just you wait”, I murmured to myself returning the carton to its place among the fully stocked shelves in the fridge. It’s been way too long since I laid hungry eyes on you and a tingle of anticipation ripples through my body at the thought of having you here at home for several weeks … all to myself.
I moved quickly out of the kitchen, its elevated position overlooking a jungle-lush dining and living area alive with stands of bamboo, exotic tropical plants flaunting their brightly colored flowers, and the ever-jubilant waterfall tumbling into the clear rock pool. Off to one side, entirely hidden behind a screen of thick, tall bamboo is the guest shower and facilities. My naked body threw a bouncing shadow over the stones ahead of me as I followed the path to the shower enclosure.
Minutes later hot water, steamy and luxuriating courses over my body and I can sense my whole being relaxing. Subdued lighting, sifted by the bamboo surrounding me, danced and sparkled on my glistening skin; wisps of steam swirled up from around my feet and the water gurgled down through the stone floor to the hidden drain underneath. A fragrant aroma permeated the air as I lathered the soap and began massaging my supple skin. I’m so glad I inherited a golden color from my mother otherwise I, like so many people, would be subjecting myself to the tanning booths chasing after that ever-so-youthful glow. And likewise, my hair is a midnight black blue, falling in luxurious thickness to pass my waist, another gift from my mother. Oh how I miss you, mum. A tear blended with the shower.
Nostalgia gave way to a strange sense of foreboding as I towelled off. What the hell is this about? Am I becoming paranoid or something? I haven’t had this kind of feeling for ages, and never this strong before. I quizzed my pensive reflection in the mirror but no answers were forthcoming. Dark green eyes stared intently back at me, gold flecks like so much glitter swam in those two quizzical pools. Shit!! I don’t need this … not today! I poked a pink tongue out at myself and hurried off to dress for my first meeting. Being predictable is one trait no one could assign to me. As a young girl growing up in the wild highlands of Papua New Guinea, what had started out as a game between myself and my parents in order for me to keep them on their toes and for myself to maintain some modicum of control over my small world, I learned the secret of being ever-changing. In exasperation my mother would exclaim at least once every day that she “could never work me out”; that she couldn’t tell from one day to the next what devious new ways I would devise to surprise both her and my father; be it a new game of hide-n-seek, new imaginary friends, etc. So now, standing before my full length mirror I smiled to myself as I ran a critical eye over my attire. My staff never knew what to expect me to wear to the office from one day to the next as they all regarded me as somewhat of an enigma as far as bosses go. I even suspected someone was running an office pool on what I may turn up in, or at least what my “color for the day” may be. And today I am determined not to disappoint them.
Black is my color for today. From head to toe I am clad in black semi-aniline leather. My preferred choice of clothing fabric, leather doesn’t itch and it doesn’t scratch when you put it on. Leather is first cool to the touch and tekirdağ escort then warms to your body temperature, forming to your shape, much like your favorite pair of jeans. However, nothing smells quite like leather. All leather has its own aroma that is unmistakable. The smell of new expensive shoes or boots … the interior of a luxury car … I love it. The pants were tucked into knee-high boots with stiletto heels, the jacket with collar turned up in anticipation of the outside cold accentuates my wide shoulder frame and is cinched in at the waist by a 3 inch-wide studded belt. Apart from the leather thong, I wore nothing else under my outer shell. To enhance the diabolic look my lips sported a glossy fire-red. Then to finish off my apparel I slipped my Glock 28 subcompact pistol into its concealed holster inside the jacket. After all, a girl can never be sure when a dinner date may become overly amorous and not want to accept ‘no’ as a directive. Satisfied with the overall look I turned on my heel and headed down to the subterranean garage.
The spiral staircase between the main bedroom and the kitchen delivered me into the garage. Sensors detected my decent and illuminated the spacious area with incandescent lighting. The focal point of the garage is the sleek black Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren. My new pet is a sports car and supercar automobile codevelop by DaimlerChrysler and McLaren Cars. It is one of the fastest automatic transmission cars in the world. Most people presume “SLR” to stand for “Sportlich, Leicht, Rennsport” (German for “Sport; Light; Racing”), while it actually means “super-leicht, Rennsport” (super-light, racing). My 722 Edition refers to the victory by Stirling Moss and his co-driver Denis Jenkinson in a Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR with the starting number 722 (indicating a start time of 7:22 a.m.) at the Mille Miglia in 1955. The “722 Edition” creates 650 bhp, with a top speed of 210 mph and 0-60mph in 3.6 seconds. All in all a good match for my life-style … besides, I just love the gull-wing doors. The inside of the SLR is as exotic as the Batmobile exterior, with carbon-fiber seat shells covered in fine leather and a cockpit built of contrasting colors and textures. Slipping on my leather driving gloves, I turned the stubby key, flipped a cover at the top of the gear selector, and thumbed the button that hid there to bring the 5.4-liter V-8 rumbling to life.
The whisper-quiet garage door cycled open and the sleek sports car, emerging like some black panther from its lair, slid out onto the cobblestone street now slick from a light drizzle and roared off into the misty grey morning. A shadow detached itself from an adjacent dark doorway and slit eyes watched as the car disappeared around a far corner then shifted their intent gaze to the recently vacated brownstone building.
Despite the dreary weather and the pall of weariness it had leveled on everyone shuffling about the city, I was most content with the day’s business. All the meetings had started on time for a change and all attendees had been keen to have the proceedings done with as quickly as possible. It was Friday after all. The luncheon, too, had been more than fruitful, bearing a new 10-year contract for the company and a rain-check for a future dinner date for myself. I smiled wickedly. And I hadn’t had to use any undue force to secure that either, just a surreptitious touch of the guy’s inner thigh. I glanced up at a leaden evening sky.
Through the windshield the street lights and headlights of passing traffic appeared as a glossy oil painting, colors leaking into one another as pools of water tentatively touched each other then raced to form into larger palettes of shimmering rainbows. The tires of my car hissed as they swished through puddles stretching across the road. Up ahead the city loomed as a sparkling crystal citadel rising from the swirling tendrils of fog hugging the wet earth. I’m excited to see you again after so long a break, and my breath fogged the glass forcing me to turn on the air to clear it. The rush of cold air swirled around me, reached under my coat, and teased my nipples into hard, excited nubs of sensitivity. They rubbed on the inside of my coat and the pleasurable tingle coursing down my back made me let out a soft moan and I squirmed in my seat. I had time after work to dash home and change into my thigh-length leather jacket. The night was full of promises.
I pulled up in front of your apartment and you were already waiting for me. At first you didn’t notice my car and I took the opportunity to run my eyes over your lithe body as you stood chatting with the burly doorman. He said something to cause you to throw your head back and laugh generously and my eyes followed the sensuous curve of your neck till it met the plunging vee of your black shirt. My breath caught and my pulse quickened. It was all I could do not to call your name and tokat escort you turned at the sound of the huskiness emanating from a strange car. You pecked the doorman on the cheek causing him to blush, then you glided over to my car.
“New wheels, I see … I like very much.” For a few seconds nothing else was said…hot silence sat between us as we both drank in each other. Then the spell was broken. You let out a soft laugh, leaned over and kissed me softly, full on the lips and settled back into your seat. I laughed, tossing my thick hair, and gunned the Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren out into the flowing traffic. ” … and the car’s not too bad either.” You smiled wickedly as I cast a smoky glance your way.
We sped through the center of the city and our conversation kept pace as we both endeavored to make up for lost time by recounting every second that had passed since we were last together. The interior of the car filled with companionable warmth, friendship … and love. Outside I could see people huddled down against the falling rain as they made their way home to their own loved ones. At least I hoped they were not alone on a night like this, I think to myself. The SLR grumbled down through the gears as if it resented having to slow down as I swung off the main road and into a narrow, tree-lined cobbled street. Fashionable old-world gas lamps spilled pools of yellow light onto the street and I rolled the car down into the garage even before the door was fully retracted. You arched an exquisitely curved eyebrow as you eye.
“New place, too, hon,” I said, then noticing your expression I smiled. “It’s been a good year.”
As we mounted the spiral stairs you couldn’t take your eyes off my figure moving sensuously ahead of you. The glow from concealed lights were captured, then thrown back randomly in muted tones from the ultra soft red leather coat I wore which fell to mid-thigh. It was cinched in at my narrow waste by a wide leather tie knotted casually on my left hip. The collar was turned up at the back against the weather but couldn’t contain my thick dark tresses that cascaded over my shoulders and way down my back. The tip of your tongue flicked out and reamed your lips as your eyes glided down my legs to my feet cupped in soft red leather ankle boots that matched the coat. My hips swayed seductively up the stairs and you sensed a warm sensation of anticipation emanating from your groin.
Once the door had closed behind us, you couldn’t help but catch your breath as you took in the surroundings. The carpet was thick and a rich coffee bean color; the walls a dark green seemed to softly shimmer as flecks of imbedded gold caught and threw back the light emanating from somewhere above or among the dense stands of bamboo, you couldn’t determine which. The sound of tripling water intermingled with an aroma suffused with the smell of lush jungle and tropical blooms. You sensed rather than heard the strains of music flowing among the leaves as some primaeval rhythm. You caught me smiling at you as you suddenly realized you’d been holding your breath for some time.
“My god, this is … is…beautiful!.” You felt a compulsion to whisper.
I shucked off my boots and, hooking my finger, beckoned you to follow me deeper down the passage, which seemed more like a jungle trail than a hallway. Leaving your shoes at the head of the stairs, you followed me bare footed revelling in the deep carpet pile and it seemed to you that we were walking on heavy moss. You stretched your toes in sensual delight. Making a left turn and walking a half dozen steps we emerged from the bamboo-lined trail and stopped at the edge of a sweeping set of wide stairs, or rather various planes of rock shelves, because that’s what they looked like as they lead down to a lower level … more a jungle clearing, because the room was filled with yet more bamboo in cohabitation with lush tropical greenery, gorgeous arrays of orchids, and numerous other equatorial flowers. It’s only when you felt me take your hand that the spell was broken and you suddenly noticed the water running among the stone stairs and spilling into a good sized rook pool from an ten foot high waterfall at the edge of the clearing. I lead you gently down beside the cascading water till we were standing at the pool side.
“Care to join me?” I asked, slipping out of my leather jacket. I was completely naked. My skin appeared to have an inner glow all its own; the subdued light only helped to enhance the very fine golden hair on my skin. The twin globes of my full, supple breasts were tipped with the hard nubs of my nipples and as I stepped up to you my breasts jiggled ever so slightly with my feline movement. The deep emerald of my eyes twinkled with mischievous intent as I helped you out of you short black skirt, letting it pool at your feet like a discarded shadow. Our bare breasts pressed softly at first, then harder as I took trabzon escort you in a passionate embrace. My tongue glided around your lips, savoring your taste then insinuated itself pass your teeth and deep into your inviting mouth as you uttered a guttural moan, and your eyes flickered then closed with delight. My tongue was alive in your mouth, reaching round every curve, massaging your own tongue and all the while we both moaned and mewed with sensual pleasure.
My hands were in your hair feeling its rich texture then one hand slipped gently to your neck where it teased the fine hairs there and I felt a shiver coarse through your body … then your pressed harder to me … ground your hips against mine … both your hands clasped my arse, squeezed, kneaded the supple fullness, pressed me even tighter into your own body. I took my mouth away and dropped my head to your neck biting, nibbled, sucked like some vampire while you threw your head back and let out a loud moan. I continued to nuzzle your neck as I drew you down gently until we were both kneeling. I pushed you further till you were laying on your back.
Your eyes were closed in ecstasy, your arms raised above your head, your fingers digging deep into the carpet. I gazed down at your wonderfully full breasts now that they were stretched up and apart. I ran my tongue along their underside, first one then the other while my hand kneaded the other … my thumb reached up and played around one hardened nipple, rocked it back & forth, round & round. My lips closed in over the other nipple, sucked it into my mouth … I teased it with the tip of my tongue, flicked it … my tongue circled the nipple which grew even bigger, even harder under my attention. You moaned and twisted your body, taking short, sharp breaths as your breasts and nipples grew more and more hot and sensitive at my touch.
Your hands came down and pulled my head harder to your breast, urging me on … while I continued working on one nipple and breast, alternatively sucking and licking, my hand left the other breast. I raked my finger nails ever so lightly over your stomach, around your belly button, down to the edge of your black panties. One, then two, then my whole hand sloooowly slid under the band of your panties; finger tips touched the silky curls of your hidden bush; pressed down gently onto your mons … a load moooan escaped your lips, and you arched your back, pushing your hips up to meet my hand down there. I smiled to myself. My fingers pressed down firmer. The outer fingers pressured your mons while the inner two fingers slipped down between the cleft of your pussy lips—it was moist with your love juices.
“OH … OH … my … my god!” you exclaimed aloud. You whipped your head back and forth. I forced my head up despite your hands pulling me down, so I could watch the action between your legs which were now wide apart, slightly bent. My fingers were buried in your pussy now. I thrust deep into you … sloooowly, then faster … harder … my whole hand now wet with your juices. “NO, no … let … me …” You abruptly sat up and tugged your panties off then slumped back with a sob. I could see your whole pussy now, the hair glistening with your love juices. I abandoned myself to desire. My hand and fingers pumped in, out, in, out … faster, faster … fingers searched out your G-spot while the thumb roamed back & forth over your hardened clit. I knelt closer to your bucking, grinding hips, working on your pussy. Your hands grabbed your breasts and kneaded them hard, pinching, twisting the nipples. Sobs and moans escaped your lips as your tongue darted in and out, licking.
I moved round till I was between your legs. I glanced up over your rising and falling stomach, between your quivering breasts now beaded with perspiration, you bit your lips. Then I lowered my head and closed my mouth over your pussy. I slid my tongue up and down your labia, savoring your taste. Suddenly you bucked, thrusting your hips up in convulsion. Your hands seized my head and pulled it harder into you pussy—you moaned louder. My tongue searched out your clit and as I sucked hard on it—swirled my tongue over, round it—I forced my tongue to pressure your clit. My passion was driving me on faster. I slid two fingers inside your drenched pussy. I penetrated you deep—deeper—you could feel my fingers touch the walls of your love cave—felt them massaging the inside of you—pumping in, out, in out … faster … FASTER … HARDER!
You’re spent now. Your breasts heaved with every gasp—every pant—every MOAN. I gave you no rest. My fingers found your G-spot and you jumped at the shock of ecstasy—you stifled a scream of pleasure. I pulled my face away from your pussy as juice flooded out. I began kissing, teasing your inner thighs— my fingers were still drumming your G-spot. Now my thumb was on your clit, rubbing it back and forth, round, round. You panted faster—short, sharp breaths—your legs quivered—your body twisting, thrust up, shaking. You begged me to STOP! NO! DON’T STOP! OH, GOD … PLEASE … NO MORE …
My fingers worked like a piston—in, out, in, out—faster—FASTER —FASTER!!!!!!
“OH … OH … I’M CUMMING …,” you almost screamed-shouted-sobbed. “I’M … OH … OH … OH … I’M CUUMMIIING!!”
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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