It was date night, and you had special plans for the two of us. Letting me off in the morning with a single, vague text message: wear something nice.
Of course, there had been a few choices but I went with the scarlet red cami dress that had an elegant cowl neckline and a hem line that could very well qualify for a mini skirt. Pairing this with my hair curled into waves, my lips painted with a matching color to my dress, and heels I wasn't used to wearing. Yet, I wanted to.
You met me at my front door, standing by the passenger side of your black BMW, wearing one of your finer suits coupled with the glint of an expensive watch. I witnessed your satisfied smile when I made my appearance, trying my damnedest not to break my ankles as I made my way to you. Your eyes sparkled as they gaze into mine, bringing my hand up to your lips for a light kiss upon the back. "You look beautiful," you said to me, before releasing the hold on my fingers and opened the cat door for me, making sure I slid inside with no problems before the door closed on your way to the driver side.
For a while, we drove in silence along the road into the city. The lights from the streets obscuring the shimmering of stars in the sky, but I did not mind. You were focused as any good driver would, and I could not help but steal glances at your concentrated expression, admiring that even when it was a calm moment, that look in your eyes churned the butterflies in my stomach. My gaze lingering over your cheeks to your jawline and past broad shoulders, following until your voice heeled my thoughts. "What are you thinking?" I could feel my cheeks start to burn when I turned my face towards the windshield, clutching my hands that lay politely on my lap.
From the corner of my eye, I swear I saw you smile. A light chuckle gave away such a confirmation.
"You are as red as that dress."
Such teasing did not make me feel any better, and you knew more than anyone about that.
"That's not fair, you know my cheeks are naturally that color already." My attempt at a comeback. A good point, but lousy delivery.
Your eyebrow lifted with that devilishly charming grin of yours.
A peek at you and I almost flipped. "I mean it." I huffed, even going as far as pursing my lips.
The next thing I knew, your hand had placed itself onto my thigh, setting the car to an easy cruise. Your fingers moved expertly, my breath catching in my throat at the light caressing.
"I know." Is all you had replied, speaking in a tone of genuinity, but a hint of something warmer. Your hand crept upwards, closer towards my inner thigh. My words failed me at this point, hands fallen at my sides, focus on the movements. The act at play. You could clearly see how easy it had been to make me squirm with this simple intimate touch, and it made you intrigued, I would think. My breath getting heavier with the pounding of my heart increasing. Lips parted without meaning to. Your single hand nudged my knees apart, and I allowed it. Thighs spread open and the dress hitched up upon my hips now, exposing the white lace thong I had on underneath.
With each inch closer, I watched with anticipation. Sliding my hips slightly forward to assist with the intention to ease into the pleasure to come. Each passing second without gaining the touch I needed was torturous. Catching my lower lip in my teeth without fear of ruining the color (thank God for lip stain), I let out a whimper; "touch me."
What made the first contact was the pad of your thumb, sliding up and down my covered lower lips. The sensation rippled through me like a shiver.
You chuckled and continued that motion until it was clear I had been soaked through the thin fabric, no doubt allowing my scent to cling to your fingers. But I doubt you minded. Without warning, your hand slipped into the waistband of my thong and pressed the tip of your finger against my opening, the wet sounds I made without more action caused me to utter a sound — embarrassment was an understatement.
"Look at that, you dirty girl. You're so wet already and I barely touched you." You said with that devilish grin.
Before I couldn't even find anything to retort with, your finger slid inside me with ease, prompting a light gasp to exhale from my throat. It was only one yet I could feel it. And after that time of adjusting, your wrist flicked, thrusting that digit in and out at a lively pace. My hands were quick to grab ahold of that arm of yours while my body squirmed in the seat. Panting and whimpering at every movement — not having expected another finger added. My mind raced with what if's and oh God's and please don't let this ride ever end's.
I felt my core heat up like a fire, body shivering before the means to the start of an orgasmic high. Clutching tightly to your arm as the thrusts quickened without rest. And soon enough, I let out a cry, calling your name before I felt myself experience an intense overwhelming sensation — my walls contracting around your fingers, holding tight to them as if afraid they would leave too soon.
Slumping between your arm and the seat, I spent too much of my time focusing on the pleasure to realize that we had parked in a secluded area. My breathing just starting to return to normal before your fingers slid out from between my legs and I noticed the bulge in your trousers. Pulling myself back to reality, you had a greedy lust in your eyes; the kind that turned me on. Even now, again.
The hand you had used previously to drive tilted up my chin and had directed me up for a deep kiss enough to leave me weakened. Not even an inch apart before you spoke in a breathy tone; "I have been waiting all day to touch you."
I smiled. "Then I guess those pictures I sent you really had their effect, huh?"
You chuckled before our lips collided again, heated and needy for the other. Devouring each other's mouths.
The rest of our date was spent in a hotel room, where there was no area left unmarked by our desire.
And I was perfectly fine with that.
