The pounding effervescence of music, began at last to fade just a little, as I tried to remember the instructions of where the bathroom could actually be found. Having stolen the chance for a smoke outside, in order to pause and reflect, it had indeed been a good night so far, a chance to unwind from the rigours of a hard week at work, with a growing flock of like-minded conspirators, determined to take a deep breath, and just at least, have one fucking good night to escape the grey and dull mundane frustrations of everyday existence. And what better way, than a friend of a friend having whispered that their best friend’s cousin’s girlfriend knows a colleague, whose brother is having a surprise party for his sister, and it’s going to be an open house. Just remember to bring a bottle. Or two.
OK… Let’s go.
Having the door opened warmly, after a quiet and clandestine mention of the secret password, it was abundantly clear, just by stepping across the threshold, that this wasn’t going to be the recipe for disaster that it could quite easily have become. Smiling, jostling, happy faces, just looking for a good time, to cut loose a little, cross paths with strangers, the buzz already building nicely, and feeling even better after sinking a couple of beers, picking out one or two friendly faces, who’d also heard the clarion call, that good times were there to be had, and be had, right here, right now, right here, right now, as the bass-line flooded in, to be met with an outpouring of energy and a collective swell of abandonment. That was the moment for a sly and inward self-indulgent grin, and a slow meander to the edges of the throng, looking for a way to a door, stepping and slowing, sidling to catch an escape route, find a place for a smoke, a stretch and a well earned chance to close my eyes for a moment, and be thankful for the chance to breathe deeply and exhale…
Fuck… What a week it had been. Starting out as a precipitous slide towards financial disaster, rallying briefly with glimmers of hope, before seeming to spiral out of control with inevitable finality, we’d pulled it together at the last possible chance, and survived. Just. The Old Gods had smiled and rewarded us, sending me here, right now. Right here. Right now.
Damn, that’s the song I needed, as I found myself nodding along, dragging on my smoke, and finally feeling the weight lift a little, conjuring a smile from out of nowhere, and only now beginning to feel a little bit like a human being again.
‘Hello, stranger… Can I drag on that too?’, said a gentle little voice behind me, as a hand reached out and stroked my arm, as I stood there.
I glanced to the side, and there was Sarah, another friend of a friend, dressed deadly in black again, but sporting a smile of relief, as I handed her my smoke, grinning softly.
‘Oh…., that is so much better…’, she reflected, as a wreath of smoke was set free into the night air, drifting and dispersing into nothingness, as the bass line could still be felt. And we stood there, just feeling the sharp night air, revelling in the thoughts of just having a night off, just having a night to indulge, finding the space to just be.
A heartfelt peck on the cheek was placed, as I turned to go, with a smile in place too, leaving little miss Sarah to feel the relaxation that I’d already felt in the night. So many curious voices, looking for deliverance maybe, looking for something, it just felt like a night of discoveries, a mix of unknown possibilities, a curious time of a moment that is just beyond grasp, as I made my way back into the house, back into the mix, back into the throng. And smiled. Fuck, I needed this so badly.
Just to be allowed to be me.
A sigh, so long in its birth, maybe it was just waiting for its moment…
Let loose…
Eyes closed, just taking a second at the foot of the stairs. And then stepping upwards, trudging to the bathroom. Base line pounding, again, another smile folding, I stepped in time to the music. Upwards step by step. Step. One. Two, Three.
Then opened a door.
It wasnt a bathroom, obviously. I’d stumbled upon the wrong and misdirected door. It was a boudoir, a bedroom of secrets, with firelight flickering, and scent and candles in the air, with a gentle soft and crackling orange light illuminating the corners, and opening possibilities, where possibilities weren’t even allowed to be voiced. I’d stumbled into the situation of a lady, almost naked, but dressing for her night, and I paused, blushing as I realised the enormity of what had just happened between two random strangers, the music of her choice, wafting, as I locked to her eyes. Those beguiling, inquisitive and straightforward eyes.
Her hands, in that reactive poise, raised and protective, as she stood there, a delicate, rounded, woman, hands placed warmly over her breasts, lit and painted by the crackling firelight. As she looked to my eyes, searchingly, a moment came and went. And the jazz that played that moment further, as it stretched and stretched, just echoed around us.
I think I shut the door, closing it behind me, as this beautiful woman was able to stand there, revelling in her ability to just exist. A gentle grace, a demeanour born of contentment, and experience. I use the word revel, because she could, simply could. Standing there, like a warrior queen, full of desire, and questionable thoughts, happy to share a moment. A moment.
That’s all it takes, to open a door; that’s all it takes for a woman to feel like a woman. And there I was, a stranger, yet knowing that the glint in her eye was an invitation to be a man. The soft sigh that she breathed, as her hands slowly fell away, and she padded gently towards me, eyes still locked, almost unblinking, shadows cast and dancing by the flickering firelight. Almost as if a destiny, and a crossed path, had been acknowledged, or recognised. Decisions had been made, clearly. Within the blink of an eye, the clasping lock of a haunting melancholy that hung in the air, with no need for words, allowed two people to express themselves and connect.
A slight smile played upon her lips, and danced away, her eyes shining as she stepped ever closer, her silhouetted hips dancing from side to side, her perfume arriving before her and tantalising the senses. The flickering firelight, the candles, the music, all conspiring in my seduction. I may not have opened the door I wanted, but I had arrived in the room I needed.
With an almost imperceptible tinge in the air, she demurely leaned in to me, until she was so close, I could almost taste her. So deliberately close, and yet untouchable. So desperately near, and yet cheekily so far away. Knowing. Knowing that her effect was making me growl, just a little. And then she spoke, in a low whisper, into my neck, and I felt her breath, haunting and warm. And the music danced.
‘What do you want with me?’
I could feel my heartbeat, thumping. I could feel the electricity crackling, but the aching warmth in those six words, as she simply asked a question of me, stirred a response inside. And words tumbled, inside my head, as I smiled into those eyes, that were steady, and searching, and held the look of a stranger, that I had discovered by chance, standing and trespassing inside her space…
‘I think you’re wearing far too many clothes, arent you?’, was what I whispered, as my eyebrows arched, and my gaze stayed where it should. Into those eyes. Into the smile, that was returned. Into the connection that was there.
And a sly smirk chased across her lips, as she sparkled. Right there. Right now.
‘I think perhaps, you’re right’
‘So you should take them off, shouldn’t you?’
‘Why?’
‘Because, I think you need to…’
And the black lace was shimmied effortlessly to the floor. To be far less constricting.
‘That’s better’, I muttered, still with eyes looking inside her mind. And then I shivered a little. I liked the confidence there, the ability to control herself, to maintain her grace, to even respond cheekily with a few playful words, delivered in a quiet husky whisper, which continued as the words fell away, a warm dark breath washing over my ear, as she held her stance. It gave me goose bumps all over. I reached slowly up to her left shoulder, and delicately ran my knuckle along her skin, down to her elbow, so soft and warm. I heard a soft intake of breath from my beautifully naked stranger, as the sensation found favour inside her head, the soft gentle touch of a stranger, welcomed and tolerated.
‘I have such thoughts, such delicious thoughts…’, I breathed. And looked into her smiling, playful eyes. There was something instantly recognisable, deep inside there. A warmth, a gentle sadness, a gentle yearning. And then I let my warm cheeky smile radiate, as I began to enjoy the gentle awkwardness that was at play here. Somehow I knew she was enjoying it, the vulnerability at play, but I sensed a willingness, a naughtiness innate and candid. I think she was happy to be discovered, to cross paths.
‘But I also think you should warm yourself by the fire’, I suggested, as she smiled again. Coyly this time. I wanted to know what thoughts were being imagined right now. With so much gentle confidence and a little bemusement, I realised that wouldn’t anyone else avert their eyes, back away, apologise even? But my brazenness had stunned her, and seduced her, numbing any prudence and sensibility she should be feeling. And I still didnt make a move to leave. Where on earth did that confidence come from? She couldnt get to her evening dress without working her way across the room. And that was out of the question. Oh, and that smile I delivered softly. I was indeed trying to be that little cheeky bastard, that I knew I could be. And I must admit I found it such a thrill to have her attention and hold that melting gaze.
She turned, achingly slowly, knowing my eyes were hungrily looking up and down, stepping gently towards that fireplace. Noticing the smooth nape of the neck, shoulders firm and straight, pale skin, almost glowing in the soft light, bumps of her backbone evident, with hips that curved, beneath those little dimples, that we all love to growl upon. And then there was her bottom.
It was a thing of beauty, curved, but not too large. A little swing and movement as she stepped further away, with almost a jiggle, it was most definitely the bottom of a woman, full and plump and feminine. I so wanted to just reach out and grab it, wanting to sink my fingers into that pale flesh, knowing it would yield and move. And the growl inside just got a little louder.
Her legs were so shapely too. Muscles flexing as she moved, proportionate and yet so sexily curvy, leading to calves that blossomed, thin ankles and dainty little feet. These surreal circumstances were almost bizarre, but this was part of the deliciousness and after the initial moment of shock, it was almost as if we knew each other already, were complicit in agreement. Two strangers, that became conspirators in the blink of an eye, and were now dancing a gentle slow exploration. I could sense a composed and comfortable being, taking the situation in her stride, almost literally, as she gracefully turned and knelt on the floor, beside the crackling firelight. Her eyes, looked to me, again, mischief on her mind, as she ran both hands backwards through glistening dark hair, and languidly closed her eyes as she did so, knowing it was an invitation, gently presenting herself to me, communicating that the ball was in my court.
I took a moment to watch how this hair-smoothing changed the shapely tension of her breasts, as her hands reached up and back. Proportionate to the feminine frame, they were curvy, not too big, but such a beautiful shape, round and heavy, the left slightly smaller, but dark areolae staining each one, with nipples already tensing and waking up.
She was a beautiful woman, and she wanted me to be here. As I took my steps towards her, keeping eye contact, I wondered again what she was thinking. She wanted more than anything to know this man that had just stepped into her world, to be held in his arms, and caressed, and stroked. She’d been in the middle of getting ready, dressing for the party, but taking her time, sipping wine, listening to music both nostalgic and mournful. Right now, Billie Holiday and My Funny Valentine.
And then she turned her gaze up to my warm, and wilful eyes.
“Please sit with me?” she whispered, patting the empty spot on the soft shag rug right beside her.
As I walked nearer, she averted her eyes, studying the flames, uncertain she could face the intensity, but keenly aware that she was crossing some line, but there was no retreating, not that she wanted to, exactly. But I could somehow read her mind, sitting not beside her, but rather, around her, allowing her to lean into me, resting her head back upon my shoulder. My enveloping legs, on either side of her, were perfect armrests, and she absent-mindedly ran her hands along my jeans as she angled her head back and glanced up at my fire-lit face. She felt the warmth of the fire in front of her, but now also the warmth of me from behind. She gently reached for my arms and then pulled them around her, wearing me like a coat. She draped one across her belly, reaching toward her hip, and pulled the other across so that my hand was covering her left breast. And her body rose and fell with her breaths, and I could feel her enjoying the warmth of this, the delicate sense of protection. And as my fingers started tracing patterns across her chest, and my thumb caressed the soft angle over her hipbone, she couldn’t help but lean into my neck to nuzzle and kiss, breathing me in, caught up in this comfortable intimacy. But this won’t last long. She couldn’t stop her desires from racing ahead, from wanting more. But for this moment, she savoured this slow burning sizzle, as the gentle notes danced around the two of us.
But you’re a stranger, I told myself, and yet it didn’t remotely feel like it. I knew she could feel me pressing against her back, growing harder with every breath, and I would normally have laughed this event off with some throwaway line like, ‘Yeah, sorry about that, I’ve spoken to the doctor about it, and he says that it’s nothing to worry about’, but not this time. I wanted to show how her skin and heat against me were having such an effect, drawing my desires to the surface, just comfortable to express them, eager for her to feel them, knowing that this strange rapport was entirely mutual, entirely normal, entirely reciprocated. Why that would be, I had no credible explanation, but I knew I wanted to explore that connection between two strangers. Conspiratorial adults. We werent strangers anymore, we’d already both realised this as fact.
I slowly kissed her shoulder, and then her neck, pausing with each single one, circling with a little sucking pressure, letting my mouth linger, and my tongue press. And my hands gently released my fingertips with the softest touch, as they slowly razed against her naked skin, moving to the under curve of each breast, slowly tracing from outside to the inside, feeling her enjoying the sparks I was creating, and I circled lazily around each one, in time with my kisses, humming along to the music, my voice reverberating into her flesh as she sensed my fingers closing those circles tighter and tighter, and as they did, the pressure increased, and she tingled, and shivered, stretching against me, knowing just where they were heading for. Her hands ran up and down my legs slightly harder, needing to communicate the pleasure at those decisions I was making, her nails pressing with her intention, as she spread her legs a little wider, her thoughts racing, as I began to coax the woman from her soul a little further, with each delicious tempting touch.
I was aware of the disproportionate nature of our clothing, but I also knew that I shouldn’t worry about it, that it would be remedied, enjoyably and with abandon, in due course. As I tightened my circles still harder, I slowed a little, feeling her almost begging me to fulfil my intentions, opening her legs ever wider, an instinctive response to my touches, betraying the lack of control she had upon the growl inside, that got louder with every ragged breath, every soft little moan that began to issue forth, as she could feel the swollen stiffness pressing and burning into her, twitching and pulsing as we began to dance towards the future. As she pushed against me, pushing against my legs, her anticipation fuelled her imagination, hot singing electricity making her heart soar, and pound, as I paused, and hooked my ankles over hers, dragging them apart further, feeling her tense and sigh, as control was passed from one to another. I knew that she’d signalled a compliance, a desire and a fire, and now the next move was mine to make. Slowly.
Teasing, I stopped moving all together, just holding her as she breathed, and waited, my fingertips frozen, so as she breathed deeper, they pressed into her flesh, easing again as she ebbed with exhalation. She craved to know what I could see in her behaviour, whether or not I could anticipate her aching desire.
My hands softened, and then my fingers moved outwards, dragging through her moistened armpits, then strongly raced down the sides of her ribcage, down to her waist, before screaming to a halt below that belly button, fingers pressing harder, and spreading wider, my little fingers brushing against the protrusion of her hips, index and middle fingers of both hands brushing dangerously towards the flushing pink flesh of her swelling mons. It felt so eager and on the verge of losing control, and yet so warm and tender, and ripe, and her trembles betrayed her, as my breathing began to match hers, in conspiracy, my hips starting to infinitesimally edge back and forth against her, my thighs and ankles tensing as I pressed against her, strength being used to control her, my growl finally became an audible thing, as my mouth bit the back of her neck, gently at first, my fingertips clenching, nails pressing, feeling her moan louder in response.
And then my right hand, slid down, circling once more, fingers pressed together, exerting pressure as I edged closer and closer. And then she gasped at the moment of exposure. My ankles, hooking over hers, and bending her to my will. It was everything she wanted and yet it took her by surprise that she felt like this, reacted like this. And though she’d been unclothed this whole time, it was only at this moment that she began to feel exposed. And while her first instinct was to resist, she quickly realised that there was pleasure indeed, in letting go. She was happy to give in and just enjoy my inquisition. That feeling of being wrapped up by me, backed up against me, was intoxicating and she slowly leaned further and further back into me. Cherishing the ability to fall back into me, thrilled to feel my building excitement. And with my caresses, I could see each trace send ripples of pleasure across her skin, helping her fall deeper and deeper into this seductive trance.
And when I stopped one more time, her breathing hitched and gasped. She wasnt ready to have this end and a fleeting moment of panic raced through her head. I could see her wondering if I was just playing with her. And maybe I was. But then, just as quickly, the returned movement my hands triggered was a tidal wave of longing. I could see it. I could almost smell it. And she involuntarily arched up to meet my fingers, but not quite near enough, and suffered in waiting for me to brush lower, to hit the spot. And with every fibre of her being, she knew it was imminent, that she shouldn’t rush it, but this longing, this intensity was making her lose all sense. And she found herself moving with me, rocking ever so slightly. And she did the only thing she could do, to draw me closer, reaching one arm back over her head, to curl her fingers into my hair and insist I come closer, her other hand fervently rubbing my inner thigh, with almost a desperation.
And when she leant back into me again, she tilted her head to the side and pulled my mouth towards hers, savouring this light, complicated, but delicious kiss, I knew she could feel the warmth of my hand against her, knew that it was comfortable and tranquilising, but the passion I could feel from her, needed to be coaxed from her further. So my hand slipped slowly down, my fingertips brushing against her clitoris, before resting against her wet and swollen lips. Not moving, but just resting there. It was enough to feel her tremble, enough to feel her hunger and ache, and that mouth began to devour me as she stretched and stretched, and I felt her hips beginning to shift, aching for my fingers to delight her, her hand tightening in earnest yearning, almost begging for me to do something, anything. I wanted to whisper, ‘Patience…’, but I didnt. I simply teased. I could feel the heat dripping from her, the aching and aching as her breath twitched again, and she broke that kiss, gasping, eyes shining in the flickering firelight.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/4yavra/m4fstr8opportunitysexteasingyearningslow_burn