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A tremor rolls through Leon’s body at my gentle stroke, and his head tilts back as he closes his eyes.
I glance around the room.
The table is too tall for my purposes—Leon is several inches taller than I am and was able to reach me with his mouth while he was on his knees and I was lying back on the table.
But that won’t work for what I have planned.
Luckily, there is an upholstered chair in the far corner of the room, where I often sit to look at my artwork and get a sense of what I need to do next.
I take Leon by the hand and lead him to the wingback chair.
“Sit here,” I instruct him.
As he sits down, I reach over and drag his shirt up and over his head, and a wicked thought occurs to me.
I give the shirt a little twirl and drop it on the floor beside me.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his gaze darkens even further as I cross my arms to grasp the hem of my shirt and, swaying to the music, begin pulling it up and over my head.
Carefully, I slide my knee onto the chair between his legs and lean toward him, my breasts hanging heavy in the cups of the lacy bra I’m wearing. With one finger, Leon reaches up and traces the edges of the lace. I reach around and unhook the bra, allowing it to slip forward off my shoulders until only my nipples, again hard and taut, hold the lace in place.
Leon makes an appreciative noise deep in his throat, and I smile again before standing straight, allowing the bra to slip forward and off my arms entirely. I catch it with one hand and turn around to face away from him, covering my breasts with the other arm and glancing back at him over my shoulder coquettishly.
Dropping the bra, I begin twirling in circles, the short skirt flaring out, giving tantalizing glimpses of my nakedness underneath it.
Then I start moving it down my hips, pushing it slowly so that it reveals my body an inch at a time as I pirouette, finally spinning out my last clothing item altogether.
I come to a stop in front of him, facing him, completely bare to his gaze.
“You are so unbelievably beautiful,” he rasps out.
At his words, I drop to my knees in front of him and lean in, sliding my tongue up from his balls to the tip of his cock, then swirl my tongue around the tip, just as he did my clit.
Leon’s hands fist in the chair beside him as I slide my mouth down to take as much of him in as I can.
His cock bumps the back of my throat, and I pause, wanting to take him in further, but not sure I’ll be able to.
Then I slide my mouth back up, undulating my tongue against the veins, until I get to the most sensitive spot, where the shaft meets the head. I take a moment to allow my tongue to flicker against it, and I taste the sweet saltiness of him as his cock jumps and twitches in my mouth.
Grasping the shaft in both hands, gently twisting as I go, I follow the path of my tongue with my hands—up and then back down.
After a moment, I pause. “Show me what you want me to do,” I whisper.
“This is perfect, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his eyes still closed.
Gently, I lift his hand off the chair and place it on the back of my head. “Show me.”
Almost reflexively, his fingers fist in my hair, and he groans.
I move back to encircle his cock with my mouth, but then I stop, waiting for him to take charge.
With another groan, he tightens his fist in my hair and gently pushes on my head.
I smile around his cock and begin working again.
Honestly, I’m not doing anything different from what I had been—but his hand in my hair, tightening and loosening as he pushes upward into my mouth with his cock adds to my excitement.
The hair on his leg scrapes against my nipples, and I moan.
