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The afternoon finds you a little peeved at me. Just a note saying I would see you later and a map tied to a bottle of wine. As much as you enjoy these games, you really thought I had plans and reservations to our favorite restaurant downtown. You realize it’s another year I’ve fucked it up. As long as you’ve known me now it’s always a little unsettling at how I manage to skate around planning something definite then come through with flying colors at the end. It’s exciting, yes and very much a turn on at the right times, but there are other times that it becomes frustrating and this is one of them. You had even mentioned to your friend where you would be and might have met her there. You look at the map. It doesn’t even lead near downtown parking. Damn him you think.
Still, you are curious and that is your burden. You dress, an extra layer of clothes and cover the boobs just because you are pissy. If he wants hot cleavage then he can do things up front (a pun your mind doesn’t fail to appreciate).
The map sends you around the back end of the Opryland Hotel and near the side door. You park (per instructions) and step out into the warm still night air. There are several possibilities here and you glance around to see which one might be the one I picked.
It turns out it’s the limo as the driver calls your name. That brings a smile and a lessening of the peevishness. You’re so easily swayed into adventure it almost makes me blush at my own audacity. Almost.
What it most certainly does do is cause a reversal of blood flow throughout my body. I’m imagining your reactions and they’re almost exactly as I imagine them. That beautiful flush is blooming up your neck as the driver hands you a flute of champagne and opens the door for you.
Inside is a tray of appetizers and a picnic basket with a sheaf of papers inside and over the food. It’s a story and you can’t wait to read it. Curiosity, however, is one of your stronger drives. Fortunately this is tempered by a stronger sense of morality and fairness. One of your finer combinations of inner drives and motivations. I appreciate it that way, anyway, and nearly as much as your sex drive. Before you do more than glance at the papers, you are asking the driver “what’s going on? Where to first? What are your instructions?” Nosy.
He tells you what he knows – which is not much. His first directive is just to drive to the mall and to not tell you any more than that. You are sharp enough that that ends your questions and you turn to the papers.
You get though canlı bahis the first page which is just a tout of all your qualities and gifted ways and means as told by one who wonders and marvels at them. The car stops as you are flushing completely, feeling the sensation all over and you look up to see me getting in the car. What timing – as always! Lucky me I get the benefit of the feelings you have up and down your body. The kiss, perfect as always and the feel of you so completely overwhelming me that I would have you right here and now if I already didn’t have other plans for you. As I break apart from you ever so slightly and ask if you are ready. You whisper in my ear, pulling me even closer “yes”. It makes me shiver all over.
Jessica, Jessica, Jessica. I take the pages from you and invite you to sit next to me. As we settle in, my thoughts running rampant and flying back and forth between chaste delicious teasing and bald sexual exclamation, I begin to read to you. A story of an adventure. Just for us. I’ve timed it to take nearly all the next hour and ten minutes and it does. It tells of the limo and the ride with your hands on me and the pauses in the reading for deep, passionate kisses and light roaming hands. It tells of sitting together so close that the electricity shoots back and forth between us in ever increasing jolts. How the nearness, the champagne, the story has us so completely turned on it would take just moments of touching to orgasm.
The story goes forward to the stop at Lookout Mountain and the picnic set up in the park. The wonderful talk about anything and everything. The gentleness and the closeness as dark comes. The touching and the talk while gazing at the stars. My hand in your hair and massaging your scalp until you need me so badly you can’t stand it and turn on me forcing a kiss, pushing your tongue into mine and your face pressing into mine. The melt of your body and the way you practically take me inside you by grinding your hip into mine. I’m shivering fully now and so tingled and electric that I feel as I would cum if you touched me – and you do. Stretching your fingers out, you touch the tips to my penis and outline it through ,my pants. Your other hand reaches up to my tie and strokes it in a way so provocative I wonder that I haven’t cum and how I could be so completely lost to you without orgasm. The moan that escapes my lips is a whole body moan. Torn from me by the moment, your beauty of self and soul, my need for you, yours for me.
The picnic ends with the driver giving a gentle bahis siteleri cough to remind us he is on time and has his own plans and the connection between us is so extreme that to break apart and move toward the limo is a personal little agony we both go through together. My lips tingle and ache for you – a feeling I’ve come to know so well and so often. Every nerve in my body is firing and flitting. As we seat ourselves and set the basket on the floor, we are so close it’s an exquisite dance of fire between flesh and touch. My hand touches, reaches and takes yours, our fingers intertwine and we’re off into the night.
You remember the story and reach for the picnic basket as I run my hands over your arm and onto your thighs. You give me that impish half smile and ask “is there really one in here?”
I challenge you back with “would I do that?”
To respond, you move right up to my ear, delicately place your lips right to me and while barely touching my skin whisper “yes”. My hand has found the mounds of your bottom and the other your hair. You arch into me and kiss me like I’ll never need another – again.
I move myself to position you beneath me. I love the shine and dance of your eyes as you look up at me. You know I’ll never have enough of that and you play it up with your motions. My lips trace your neck and onto your shoulders. It’s funny how you manage to reach down and pick up the basket while allowing my lips to travel down between your breasts and to your navel. My hands running over your body and moving your clothing aside for my lips and tongue. How wonderful you feel! I am absolutely lost in the feel of you and your hand touches the back of my head to emphasize how lost I am.
You’re wearing the skirt I had asked you to wear and as my lips move lower, the skirt comes up in my hands. I can feel your bare legs under my fingers and palms and I can feel the heat from between your thighs. The feel of your panties make my cock leap and I find they are crotchless! That’s new. “Just got them”, you whisper. My penis gives another humongous jolt. As my lips graze your curls I feel you shudder and another bolt of electricity jumps through my member. How incredible that you seem to feel just as I do. I can feel tremors moving through your softer parts and the delicate folds of skin. As I separate them with my tongue, your tremors grow more intense.
Your hand has been trying to rummage in the picnic basket but now you grab at my head with both hands and gasp as my tongue leaves your sopping lips and slides bahis şirketleri across the smooth silky petals to your slippery nub. Guided and pressed by your hands and fingers pulling and pushing at my hair, I lick and suck your clit until I feel you about to burst. With a last nibble, sucking your swollen clit into my mouth and teasing it with my tongue I feel you lose all constraint, shuddering and spasming. The feeling so takes me that I can’t press myself inside of you fast enough. Just at your entrance, however, with your juices pouring out over the head of my dick and my pants at my knees, you remember the story and turn me to sit in the seat. In one swift and furious move you impale yourself on me and it’s all I can do not to cry out in anguished ecstasy (there is still a driver there). You knew how this would drive me to the edge because of the story (again, the story that had you so turned on all the way down here).
You reach down, a little more frantic now with your hand rummaging in the picnic basket and another on my scalp giving me thrills and mutter “it better be in here’.
I arch up to whisper in your ear “oh, it is.” Just as you triumphantly pluck the vibrator from underneath everything. With a gleam in your eye and a heaving breast, you turn it on and lay it on your clit.
My cock leaps inside you as your muscles undulate in a rhythm to the buzzing and I arch up as far as I can to feel your nipples against my chest. I whisper to you how incredibly hot I find you. Your gorgeous body and your beautiful soul. Your full, delicious breasts and wonderful witticisms. I tell you I can’t get enough of you. I can’t hear your words or read your verse. I can’t feel your touch or see your smile enough. I tell you how you make me insatiable and I feel your inner muscles working in waves and your gasps come more like whimpers and as I feel the electricity shooting off you I can no longer feel any semblance of control for myself and we cum together in a desperate violent hush.
You kiss me hard to keep from crying out or to keep me from crying out – all the same – and it only makes it more intense. I am so totally lost to you as wave after wave of utter joy crash through me and you collapse in my arms.
There is little of the drive left to Nashville, but I spend it cooing to you about how I want to take you for dessert and feed it to you in an open restaurant. Then take you home and give you a slow delicious massage in candlelight before having you as close as you can be for all the next two days we have together. How we will write our next adventure together at some point of our conjoinment. Over dessert we talk about the feelings and the wonder of our trip and I think how inconceivable perfection must be if this isn’t it.
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