Happy Friday, y’all! We are, once again, honored and delighted to present an inspiring and skillful piece of erotic fiction to get your weekend off to a sizzling start! Please enjoy the following from Kel Ann, who we are certain would appreciate a grateful comment below! She and her hubby can be found on Twitter here…
Sunglasses, a simple white tank, and short shorts. Cute hair, just a touch of lipstick. Perfection. As soon as I saw you, I felt my face strain at the smile I was making, of such genuine joy and excitement. My heart pounded and stomach tingled. You step quickly to greet me, wrapping your arms gently behind my back, pressing our bodies tightly for a moment before pulling back, still holding my shoulders. Small talk about finally seeing each other belies what we really want to say.
Sitting at a quiet table on the restaurant patio. Warm breezes, sunny skies, faint sounds of the city as a background. Cups of water perspiring on the table, a glass of wine warming in your hand, and a cold bottle of beer in mine. We are at home here, you and I, with a simplicity and sweetness of close friends and the energy of new lovers. Snacks have long since finished, and we are the only two still seated out here in the late afternoon. Our server realized we didn’t need much nearly an hour ago, and it’s been a treat to talk to you.
Laughing often, swapping stories about kids, jobs, and husbands. building connections, and feeling so comfortable, it’s been an eternity since we sat down. I know we are nearing a point where we must plan what happens next–a close embrace and farewell or a knowing glance that leads us to another destination. I want the latter so badly but have to accept whatever happens.
You finish a story about your last vacation, and I take a sip of my beer. Silence. Tension. Electricity. We gaze into each other and bask in what we feel. Though the sun is setting and bringing a coolness to our table, there is a warmth pooling within me, and I catch your chest’s movements as you breathe deeply once…twice. One more sip, and as I place the bottle on the table, I feel something brush my leg under the table. It almost startles me until I sense the soft texture of flash. I can see through the iron table and catch a glance at your toes pressed against my leg, just above my ankle. Soft white and pink flesh with a deep maroon polish–stark contrast to my navy dress cascading below the table. I catch my breath at the sensation and notice your lips curling to a smile. I can’t tell if I’m blushing from three drinks, the warm sun that brought a pink hue to us, or your flirtatious toes. I relish your touch, having craved it for so long. And you knew this was the way to catch my attention and stoke the fire of my desire.
The nudge to my shin has become a gentle stroke of my inner calf muscle. Having shed your sandal, your perfectly pedicures toes glide up and down my leg seductively. Your smile converts to a nibble of your lower lip, perhaps to contain the heat you are feeling too. No longer nervous or afraid, I slip off my flip flops and catch your foot between my own.
Intimately we play, rub, and nuzzle our feet together under the table. No words, hardly any movement of our bodies, yet our eyes glued to each other. I can no longer hide the passion that has swelled within me. Moisture drapes my brow, my chest, and parts hidden deep below. Your tongue slides across your lips, wantonly, teasing me further. Perhaps frustrated by our circumstances and filled with desire, I lean forward to reach my hands toward yours, which are wrapped around your water glass.
In a flash our hands release and our feet retreat from their play, and we are up from the table and out the door. I walk, half watching you from behind and enjoying the tilt of your hips, and detect a slickness between my legs. This is no ordinary level of excitement; it’s a flood of unbridled yearning. I feel a little embarrassed, nervous even, that my interest is much stronger than yours, but when we reach the cars, I know you feel as strongly as I that this is meant to be.
Pausing at my door and not knowing what to say, I just reach for you. Assuming a gentle hug and maybe a whisper in my ear, I am not prepared for the kiss you undertake. It is at once sweet and delicious yet firm and purposeful. Your lips barely part and I feel your tongue slip just across the edge of my bottom lip. I want so badly to hold your face and embark on the passionate kiss that evades us–a medley of lips and tongues, grunts and moans, hands and hearts. Instead, we pull apart, open our eyes while still clasping hands. I smile again and you offer what I want.
“St. Regis, room 927.”
In the hours that followed, it is difficult to narrow my memory on a single moment or experience. Our time overflowed with textures, tastes, sounds, and colors, so much so that it becomes a melange of pleasurable indulgences. Giving, reviving, sharing. Laughing, teasing, tingling. Gushing, collapsing, cuddling. Showering, resting, sleeping. We made love so artfully. And we fucked like crazy. I’ve never felt my whole body, from tongue to toes, so electrically charged with sensuality, which failed to diminish even after a third orgasm. My soul simply didn’t want to let go of this moment.
Dark outside, the late hour upon us, I felt that I should probably be leaving. When you went to the bathroom, I started to gather my things and get dressed. You returned as I slid on my black thong, and picked up my dress.
“But Holden will be here any minute. Don’t you want to say hello? I know he would love to meet you.”
“I would love to!”
You coax me back to the bed, under the sheets, nestled in your arms. Our feet begin to dance with each other again, each stroke or nudge as exhilarating and enticing as the very first. I would normally be so shy about another man seeing me topless and in a thong, but your comfort and care dissolves those worries. My heart begins to race as I hear the hotel room door beep and then open. I close my eyes, hold my breath, and wait.
“This is Kel.”
“Well hello, Kel.”