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I let my tongue land on her pouty lips and trace them in full, sliding inside her mouth once I’ve completed a perfect ‘O.’ Something about the hardness of her teeth juxtaposed against the softness of her lips reminds me of the sculpture that we saw. Soft sensuality and sharp edges blended together and becoming a part of each other. Dichotomy incarnate.
She continues stroking my cock and my hands reach down, grabbing folds of her dress and lifting until my hands land on her ass. My fingers slide under the lacy fabric of her panties so that I can tease her asshole. I have no idea how she’ll react, but I’m not thinking a lot about it. Like scaling a mountain or painting a picture, I’m just reaching out, throwing caution somewhat to the wind, and trusting that the end result will be something glorious.
The moan she makes into my mouth lets me know I’m on the right path to the summit.
I pull on the dress more to lift it up over her torso. Up. Up. Up. And those breasts are in front of my eyes again. They are a sculpture themselves. A perfectly rendered example of living art.
I tug the dress up over her head and…
I tug the dress up…
I tug the…
I tug…
Shit. I think I needed to, like, unsnap something around the back of her neck. It’s stuck over her head.
“Um,” she says, muffled by the fabric.
I’m standing three feet away from her, tugging at the dress, my cock sticking out through the zipper hole in my pants; she’s bent forward, black, backless dress pulled up around her head, wearing nothing else but a thong and heels.
We’re like a living version of a Chinese finger trap.
“Andrew…?”
“I know. I… Hold on.”
For whatever reason, I choose not to do the logical thing and pull the dress down her body. Not sure why. I just walk it toward her, inside out, and toss it over the back of her head like a cape.
For a second, seeing her faceless, naked body distracts me for a couple of reasons and I just kind of stare at her.
“Are you still there?”
“Shit, sorry.” I swing around behind her to see if I can undo the clasp in the back.
When I get back there and step in to reach her dress, my cock kind of… Well… It kind of pokes her in the ass.
“Oh!” she yelps.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s just… There.”
And then suddenly she gets very still, turns her still covered head, and muffles out, “I don’t mind.”
Fuck unclasping.
I grab the neckline with both hands and rip it at the seam, tearing it off her. It falls off her head and to the ground. She looks down at it pooled around her ankles and then looks at me and says, “I just got that cleaned.”
“I’ll buy you a new one.” And then my hands are fisting her hair, pressing her mouth against mine again and she’s fumbling for my belt.
I have the thought, instantly, that there’s a very good chance that she’ll manage to catch her finger in the buckle, snap it back, breaking her wrist, and at the same time somehow succeed in tightening my open zipper with the torque of her pull and wind up chopping my dick off. Yes, it’s crazy, and yes, it’s implausible, but then again…
“Hold on, hold on,” I mutter into her kiss. Stroking her arms to gently pull her away from my belt, I step back and look at her.
“What?” she asks, nervously, rubbing her knees together shyly. “Did I do something wrong?”
It breaks my heart and turns me on at the same time.
“No,” I whisper. “No. You didn’t.”
Slowing things down, I unbuckle my own belt. Sliding it out of the belt loops, I keep both eyes on her only. I toss off my jacket and kick my shoes off at once. I pull off my socks, still staying focused on her, then begin unbuttoning my shirt. She bites at her bottom lip in the way she does that makes my dick jump. And my dick jumps.
I discard the shirt, tuck my cock back into my boxers long enough to slip my pants and underwear off, and then stand in front of her, naked. Her legs twist a bit at the knees and she kind of shimmies in place. I don’t even think she knows she’s shimmying. In fact, I realize now that she hasn’t been kidding or playing coy even a little bit. She has genuinely no idea how sexy she is. Which is also part of what makes her so goddamn sexy.
She goes to kick off her shoes and unfasten her garters, but I stop her. “Leave ’em on.”
She glances down at her feet and then lifts her eyes to meet mine again. “OK.”
I take two steps to reach her, lift her hands, and kiss the backs of both of them. She places them on my chest and steps in closer to me so that our bodies are tight together, my cock pressed between our stomachs.
