Kissing date dreaminess

When the Pilot offered me a glass of the wine I had asked him to buy, I noticed two glasses on the table.
“None for you though,” I said.
He didn’t bat an eye, poured me a glass, put the bottle away.

I sipped the cold wine while I checked him out. I had him stand in the middle of his living room, I walked around him gently touching, seeing how he felt. He’s six foot tall. I’m taller in heels. I like that quite a bit. I took my time. I eventually had his clothes off, and I relaxed back on the couch.

He wore black boxer briefs, as I’d requested. They were tight, beautifully fitted, some fabric that was smooth to the touch. I had him turn for me when he revealed them so I could see his arse in them, then I had him back that arse up to where I was sitting on the couch.

The pert round butt that I had already seen in jeans did not disappoint. I ran hands over it, gently swatting at it, then just grabbing handfuls of flesh to see how it felt. Noteworthy.

His thighs were steel-hard, like someone who does some job that works them day in and day out. He doesn’t, but there they were. Not defined, but pure muscle, no softness in them whatsoever. I do love that.

And then there was kissing. Him bound to the bed.

Some three and a half hours of touching, stroking, teasing, kissing.

I knelt on him at one point, my knees on his chest, my feet against his hard cock, my toes insinuated into the creases where his crotch meets his legs, the full weight of me pushing him into the mattress. I looked down at his unseeing eyes like some flesh-and-blood gargoyle that surveys everything under them. Claws and teeth ready, but mostly sheathed this time. It felt as if I should have had wide leathery wings to unfurl behind me as I perched there.

Towards the end, the kisses had gentled to sweetness. His face soft, the face I had seen a glimpse of when I kissed him across the table on our first date. He blinked up at me, the kind of blinking one might do a in a sudden bright light, as if dazzled, slightly confused. It made him look incredibly vulnerable and of course I love that.

“What are you doing? That blinky thing?”
He smiled. “What?”
“Did you practice that in a mirror? Like a baby animal, the blinky thing.”
“Does it work?”
“Yes, yes it works…”

I leaned down to kiss him again.

Loves: 14
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    1. Everything was beautiful, exactly. But especially thrilling for me the moment when she (you) inspected his fine arse, and ran your hands over his “pert butt”. I would have loved you prolonging that moment – Such a wonderful feeling: To feel what a woman’s hands can do with your butt, so exciting, it could, should last for hours…
      P.S. And we like to be kissed (and eaten up) there too!

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