Red Hot Fishnets

By | November 29, 2010

Red BasqueWe ordered a Chinese on the way home and sate it with a bottle of wine. It been a hard day, in more ways than one. She slipped upstairs for a shower while I dealt with my emails on my laptop.

The thought of her naked and soapy kept distracting me until I could stand it no longer. I made my way to the bathroom and entered the hot steamy room. Water and soap spattered the inside of the glass through which I could make out her outline. I pulled of my T-shirt and opened the door. “Hello, feeling dirty?” she asked. My hand answered now resting on her pussy. I massaged her clit with my finger, she squirmed and shifted her feet squeaking on the shower tray. “Don’t.” she said. “Why?” I asked, thinking she didn’t mean it. “Save it for later.”

A little deflated I returned to my emails, then when she had left the bathroom I showered. I was patting myself dry when the door opened. She walked towards me across the tiled floor, red high heels clicking against the hard surface. She reached out, red PVC gloved hand grabbing my cock. “Come with me” she said softly.

I followed her into our bedroom, enchanted by the seems in the back of her red fishnet stocking, tantalised by the silk of her knickers stretched across her round buttocks. The lacing of her corset was pulled tight, nipping her in, long chestnut hair falling in waves over her shoulders. The room was lit by dimmed uplighters and a red candle at each side of the bed.

“Lay down” she said, it was half request half instruction. Who would have refused either way. My cock was throbbing, the sensation of hot blood filling my member so strong I thought if I concentrated I could count the corpuscles. I watched her step out of the satin knickers, wondering how wet they would be, imagining the scent.

When I was horizontal she straddled me, not my cock, but my face. Her labia were a few millimetres from my lips. I needed no instruction as to what I should do next. My tongue parted her lips and wound its way inside. She lowered herself slightly to allow me easier access. Her outer lips were soft and moist from the shower, her inner lips wet and fragrant from her excitement. I pointed my tongue to allow her to settle on to it. Inside her I swirled it round a little probing until the frenulum under it hurt.

She leant her body forward presenting her swollen clitoris for my attention. I lapped at the tiny bundle of intensely sensitive nerve endings, occasionally teasing her labia, biting at her fleshy folds. My face was again covered in her juices, I imagined it glistening in the light from the candles.

Her pussy lifted away from me, she was moving down my body. Her opening aligned itself with the moist tip of my cock then paused. I could see the lust in her eyes, matched by the desire to fuck in mine. Millimetre by millimetre she slid down my shaft until she was filled and my cock was completely inside her. A perfect fit.

Another pause, she was still except for the contractions of her pussy on my cock. When she began to move on me her strokes were slow, but in only a few seconds her lust took over and she bounced on me like a cowgirl riding an unbroken stallion. Then the stallion bucked and threw her off. She landed on the mattress on her back.

Now I mounted her hooking my arms under her knees, bending her double. Her stocking covered legs and red heels waved beside my head, her swollen pussy lips beckoned me. I pushed into her slamming without finesse or respite. She squealed with delight and soon moaned my name as she came. I felt her squeeze me, my signal to release the tension from my aching balls. I grunted and continued to pump in and out, the tenderness of the tip of my cock no barrier to my thrusting. Each stroke became sweet agony accompanied by a guttural growl.

Eventually I collapsed and rolled to my side of the bed. We lay in a tangle of arms and legs for a while, my wet cock on her thigh, her pussy flowing with cum and the air filled with the scent of our sex.