I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. I finished my cigarette by taking one long drag, feeling my nerves slowly getting the best of me. I reached for my purse, which was housing a few toys for us to play with. But he was completely unaware that I was bringing anything except myself. Not only that, but in a neighboring pocket were some sexy thigh highs. He may have thought I didn’t catch him say how sexy he thought they were, but I ran out and bought a pair the day after his comment.
What was is about him, I don’t know. Pheromones, perhaps. How perfect I thought his body was. The feelings I got around him. The fact that he makes me feel just as sexy as I view him. We had only been seen each other about three weeks at this point. Which seems like nothing, but has felt like everything. We were already emotionally bonded on a number of levels, but the sex… The sex was the best I’d ever had in my life. And the communication and openness we had toward it only made it that much better. We had already slept together numerous times, I recalled as I got out of my car and made my way to his front door. Each time different than the last. Different rooms, different positions, different amounts of foreplay. Sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. We mentioned our deepest desires and fantasies already. And one he mentioned got me soaking wet. I knew that one fantasy just had to come first because of how kinky it was, and it had to happen now. He didn’t know just how badly I really wanted it, too.