Lingerie [MF]

“You’re thinking about it all wrong,” he replied. “Lingerie isn’t clothing.”

She looked at him, confused. “What do you mean? If lingerie isn’t clothing, what is it?”

“Lingerie,” he smiled, “is an invitation.”

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The day has tumbled me around and deposited me back here, a little worse for the wear, meetings and spreadsheets and traffic leaving imperceptible marks on me, except maybe my suit looks a little wrinkled and maybe I look a little tired. But it’s good to be home. I trudge up the stairs, and unlock the door. Swing it open, enter. Turning into the living room, I pause at the sight before me.

I don’t know, honestly, if what you’re wearing counts as lingerie. It’s a red silk robe. Is that lingerie? Does it matter? The way it is sliding off one shoulder, and parted open in the front. The way you sit on the couch, your hands on your thighs, your lips parted in a small smile. There is no doubt what you are suggesting. And I am speechless.

You slide off the couch, like a cat, or maybe a tiger because you feel a little dangerous right now with that heat in your eyes, and slink across the room, advancing on me, hips swaying, bare feet with painted toes. The opening in your robe billows a bit with your movement, and I feel a stirring deep inside at what it reveals. Your fingers slide behind my neck to pull my ear close, as you stand on tiptoes and whisper, “I ordered us takeout for dinner, but it won’t be here for a while.” You move your lips to mine, not waiting for an answer or objection, as if I could possibly think of one in this moment. As if that were somehow conceivable with you standing there like that.

Soft lips on mine, parted, and I sigh and lean in. My hand rests on your waist, feeling the curve of your hip through the red silk, smooth and warm. I feel my cock begin to stir as your tongue darts into my mouth, and I meet it with my own. I want to feel your skin. I kiss you harder, deeper, open mouth as I blindly slide my hand into the parted opening of your robe. I moan against your mouth at the touch, the feel of you, and I spread my hand across the small of your back, firmly pulling you against me. I want you to feel what you’re doing to me. I want you to feel my cock getting hard against you, feel it grow in response to you.

You step back, and I let out a gasp of desire. Shocked that you would break our contact. Confused. With a mischievous smile, you run your hands up my abs, across my chest, and under my suit jacket. As your hands lift it off my shoulders, you slide your hands down my arms, and the jacket falls to the floor. I try to step towards you again, reaching again to pull you in. You take another step back. You’re driving me crazy. I need you. I need this. You untuck my shirt, and begin unbuttoning it. I reach down to turn your face back up towards me, to kiss you, to feel your lips on mine again, surely you can unbutton my shirt without looking, but with a small shake of your head, and giggle, you make me wait. Returning to your task, you finally open my shirt, and it joins my jacket on the floor.

Denying me has done nothing to cool me off – to the contrary, my cock is raging hard now, straining against my pants, uncomfortable…and I need you even more. I am done being denied, toyed with, and with one swift motion, I sweep you into my arms, hold you against my bare chest, and take two steps across the room to deposit you on the couch.

Your robe falls open. The swell of your breasts, the gentle curve of your hips, your soft thighs and that line from your shoulder to your neck beckons me. Before I can mount you, before I can even get my belt open, you lazily trace a finger from the dark patch between your legs, up your belly, between your breasts, and rest it on your neck as you look at me through eyes heavy lidded with lust. A hungry fire blooms in my chest, but I am frozen once again, just for a moment, at the beauty of you. But that’s all you need. A moment.

You sit up and grab me by the waist of my pants, hand firmly on my belt, and swing me around, sitting me unceremoniously on the couch. Somehow, in the same motion, you are kneeling on the floor now, fumbling with my belt, tinkling, slapping leather, a zipper hums, my pants pulled off. I am dimly aware of all these things as I tuck your hair behind your ear. Now you are the one who looks hungry. My cock springs free of its confinement, I feel the caress of the cool air, and I see the tip glistening with precum. You lick your lips. That small gesture elicits a moan from deep in my throat as I feel your slender hand wrap itself around the base of my cock, warm and firm. And then my core explodes with electricity as you take the whole head of my cock into your mouth. Slowly, you begin licking it, sucking it, taking it in. It is warm, and wet, and exquisite. My head falls back, and I let out a long, low moan expressing all these things to you: “Fuuuuuuuck.” Which is not really the same thing, but it’s also all I can really articulate with your beautiful mouth wrapped around me. You begin moving your head back and forth. My legs go weak as you speed up. My hand balls in the silk of your robe.

Dimly, through the heat of your mouth around my hard cock, the soft fabric in my hand, I see you reach between your legs. For a second, your mouth goes slack and your fingers tighten on my thigh as you slide your fingers inside yourself, as you rub your clit, and you moan against my cock, sending a shiver into my chest. I’m sure you feel it twitch in your mouth. Watching you play with yourself does that to me. Then, you are bringing your hand back up, except it is glistening now, slick, dripping, and you wrap it around the base of my cock. Your hand rotates, sliding freely as you spread your pussy all over it. I feel my cock strain against your hand, stiff at the idea of what you just did, at the feeling of your hand sliding smoothly all over my cock, and I am sure you can feel every vein and ridge in your delicate fingers.

Your motions slow, teasing me again, or maybe just saving me from where this was headed, drawing out my pleasure, making it last. I certainly agree with that sentiment. Make it last, until we can’t hold out any more. With a sucking sound, you pop the head of my cock out of your mouth, and my hips lift off the couch, seeking that warmth again. Your hand is still wrapped around my shaft as you stand up, and straddle my knees. Your body is right in front of me, fully on display, save for the small slices hidden by your red robe. Seeing you standing like that, legs apart for me, open, I lose my breath and reach for your hips. I want that. I want you. I want you to kneel on the couch, take my cock, and put it between your legs, press it against your wet slit, and then I want you to settle onto me, let me fill you up, deep, stretching you out as I feel you moan against my pressure. As if in response to my thoughts, you kneel over me and guide my hard cock to your entrance and slowly settle down onto me with a sigh. Hands on my shoulders, you begin to move on me, up and down, slowly, our eyes locked, both of us our breathing shallow. Your robe is a curtain now, around your back and our legs, hiding our tryst against the world, but open for me, for my gaze, and mine only.

I reach up and cup your breasts as you move on top of me, feel their softness in my hands, my cock still throbbing, straining inside you now, feeling your velvet heat surrounding me, feeling how wet you are for me, how easily I’m sliding in and out. Inside me, there is a tension – between wanting this to go on forever, wanting to be inside you, with you moving on me like that, our hands on each other, exploring, perpetual motion; between that, and wanting release, wanting to fill you up, wanting to finish. I know which will win. Eventually. But now, your soft folds enveloping me, your eyes locked on mine, I am not ready. My fingers roll your nipples between them, eliciting another gasp.

You shrug your shoulders, and the robe slides off your body, finally, with a whisper, and I feel it cascade off my knees and pool softly at my feet. I pause for a moment to take you in, admiring your fully naked body, every curve perfect, every line a pleasure. Your soft skin slides under my big warm hands as you continue to roll your hips, as you continue to fuck me, with a gentle slow rhythm, and I take your hips in my hands. Feeling that rhythm, our rhythm, I begin to rock my hips in counterpoint, meeting each of your movements, and guiding you with my hands, I begin to speed up. I feel it building now, that release, that inevitable finish as your pussy throbs against my cock and you begin to make small noises, whimpers with every exhale, your hands braced on my chest. Faster now, my hands still guiding our movements, feeling you begin to tremble against me, I know your legs are weak and you feel the wave begin to crest as I fill you up with every thrust. I let out a low groan, which only seems to encourage you. “Oh fuck baby, fuck fuck fuck, you’re going to make me cum,” is all I can get out as we move faster together, and I hear you gasp as your pussy begins to spasm against me. Quickly, more quickly than I thought, I feel my cock tingle and tighten against your spasms, and I let loose inside you, in response, your pussy milking the cum out of my cock, every powerful thrust now ending in a release deep inside you until I finally hold your hips against mine and let out a long exhale.

We are out of breath. Your face resting in the curve of my neck, arms crossed in a circle around my shoulders. I stay inside you, resting together with you, wanting your soft heat to surround me forever. I feel a trickle of us mingled together pooling at the base of my cock, filling the air around us with its perfume. Slowly, I feel the stress of the day melting, flowing away like a snow bank in the spring sunshine. My body relaxes, loosens, sinks into the soft couch. And even though my spirit is singing and weightless, writing poems to your beauty, I can only breathe out two simple words. “Thank you.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ospzm5/lingerie_mf