“That would be a pretty good date,” I say, conceding the point. “What would you have done after the private show?” Our voices are both low, forcing us to lean in to be heard.
“I would hope, and pray, and sacrifice the biggest goat I can find to Venus, hoping you’d consider kissing me goodnight.”
It’s beginning to get very warm in this sex room. And my libido isn’t helped by that fact that all I can see is naked flesh out of my peripherals while I’m having this conversation with the man I can acknowledge that I want but can’t have.
But even if I can’t have him fully, there is something I can have. “Okay, I took pity on you and kissed you.” I slowly raise my hand to the top of my dress and start unbuttoning the long row of buttons that goes down the front. “What would you do next?” I raise my eyebrows in challenge.
Gavin doesn’t answer, eyes laser-focused on tracking the movement of my hand as it undoes each button. “What?” he asks when I stop unbuttoning at the front clasp of my bra, and caress the soft, round cleavage that’s exposed.
“I’m kissing you,” I remind him. “What are you going to do next?”
Gavin gets up off his chair and moves toward me. I shake my head and extend my hand to tell him to stop. I don’t want him to actually touch me. There’s too much between us and it would open a can of very angry paternal worms.
But I can have this. As long as we don’t touch, it won’t get that complicated. I hope.
I warn myself that he could laugh at me, or use this to blackmail me. But after Gavin planned that surprisingly thoughtful date in his head, I want to take this little chance.
Gavin freezes at the extended hand and then sits back down on an exhale. “Right. In that case, while I’m kissing you, I would slide my hands under that dress, cupping your fantastic ass.”
“Hmm.” I stand up and turn around, getting back on the couch on my knees and looking over my right shoulder. “Like this?” I slide both hands under my dress, one up each leg, dragging up material as I go. I stop when I reach my own ass, feeling the curves.
“Yes,” Gavin hisses out through clenched teeth. “Like that.”
“While your hands were on my ass, mine would be on your abs,” I whisper, giving him an expectant look. This is the moment of truth, to see if he’ll play along with me.
Gavin grabs the bottom of his shirt, pulls it over his head, tosses it over his shoulder and narrowly misses hitting a painting in the process. I’m so far gone to lust I don’t care about the potential damage, because my attention is dragged to ridges of his ab muscles. He starts rubbing his hand up and down the surface, just like I said I was going to do.
I feel my clit tingling, crying out for attention by those same hands.
Gavin breaks into my concentration. “Then I’d unbutton all of those buttons down that dress that’ve been teasing me all night with the thought of what they’re hiding.”
I turn back around and my hands accomplish the deed. I pull on the sides of my dress, showing Gavin my matching lacy black underwear, and shift on the couch to put my feet up. I feel a moment of nervousness that I’m curvier than his usual type, but then I remember that I’ve got the same body type as the curvy naked women I’m surrounded by.
Thank god for the tastes of perverts past.
“And then I’d take off that bra. Not all the way off, since I’m too impatient touching what I revealed to get your clothes all the way off.”
I match reality to what he’s saying, unclasping the bra but keeping it hanging down from my shoulders, and palm my own breasts, playing with my own nipples.
“I’d think it was really unfair that you still had so many clothes on.” I bite my lips at the thought of his hands replacing mine on my breasts.
Gavin takes the hint and stands to take off his shoes and socks, then his jeans and underwear, leaving them in a pile under his feet. His erection juts out toward me as he sits back down, running his hands back up and down on his chest, slowly.
“And then I’d grab your dick, making it even harder with each stroke.”
He moves his hands all the way down his chest until he reaches his penis, firmly grasping it while he strokes it.
Gavin’s voice is even rougher when he responds. “I’m a gentleman, so I wouldn’t leave your clit alone while you’re being so generous.”
I push my underwear out of the way, sliding my finger through the wet folds of my vulva and finding my clit. I throw my head back to the couch with the movement, sensation radiating from my clit.
“Jesus, you’re as fucking hot as Titian’sVenus of Urbino.”
And he’s theFarnese Hercules, leaning on his club, muscular body at rest, but ready to explode into action at the slightest provocation.
I moan, half in pleasure at what I’m doing, and half in frustration, because I wish it was his hands on me right now, not my own. I imagine how his rougher hands would feel on me, and I get wetter.
We both touch ourselves faster, moaning as we increase the speed.
