I could still feel the burning sensation on my cheek where he'd kissed me goodnight- how easy it would have been to turn my face and allow him access to my lips, but that wasn't the plan. I'd waited ten minutes, then here I stand outside his room. I knock on the door, no hint of hesitation in my actions.
He opens the door, still wearing the white dress shirt and black trousers, his feet bare, the bow tie loosened around his neck.
"Lauren... everything ok?" He wears a slightly worried look.
"I'm fine. I just... I didn't want the night to end so soon. I thought we could have a nightcap". I hold out a bottle of brandy.
For a second, I thinkt he's going to say no, to turn me away. His eyes smile, his face relaxes.
"What a nice idea. Please, step in".
Like the gentleman he is he holds the door open wide for me, still in my ballgown I step over the threshold. He closes the door, and pulls a chair from under the desk, motioning me to sit. He goes into the bathroom and returns with two small glasses.
"Not quite brandy goblets, but these'll do", he smiles.
Small talk ensues while he pours the golden liquid. He passes me a glass, then sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward while we talk.
He is easy to talk to, unlike guys my age, he doesn't talk about himself. He listens to me, nods and takes an interest. During the evening he sat opposite me, and for the first time in the couple of years we'd worked together I really notice him. He has a shy smile, his hair is starting to grey at the temples, his eyes are bright and when he looks at me, he sees more than a 22 year old girl. My mind goes back to the dance we'd shared, I'd had to almost physically drag him to the dance floor, but he'd moved with the music, our bodies occasionally touching.
We laugh together, he jokes about someone in the office, and he relaxes.
"I have to say, Lauren, that you look absolutely stunning in that dress. The most beautiful girl at the party".
My legs tremble, but I stand in front of him, and give him a twirl. My long blonde hair, no longer pinned up, spins and falls about my face. I laugh as I turn full circle, and he stands, brushing the hair from my face. We stand about a foot apart. His hand lingers on my cheek. I put my hand on his arm, my fingers gently caressing him through the shirt.
"Kiss me". My disembodied voice sounds harsh against the silence.
"Lauren... I..."
Take the initiative, my inner voice says. I take his glass from his hand, placing his and mine on the bureau. My hands on his arms, my face towards him. I look at his eyes as I press forward.
He responds, his lips are on mine, one hand in my hair, gently pulling me to him. The kiss goes on and on, his tongue caressing my lips, then pushing softly against mine. His other hand on my back. My hands are in his hair, our kisses more passionate, more demanding.
He breaks the spell. He breaks the kiss. Looking at me, I can sense a lecture, the age difference, his family, my boyfriend - well, my ex- , work...
"Are you sure this is what you want? How much have you had to drink?"
I laugh, a hand flying up to cover my embarrassment. I stifle the laugh as quickly as it starts.
"I'm tipsy, not drunk", I tell him, "and I wouldn't have come to your room at..(looking at the clock) half past one if I wasn't sure what I wanted".
He stands, my hands in his. His face tells me he's thinking this through. Instead of ripping my clothes off, he takes the time to give me a way out. I make no effort to move. He leans in, and kisses me, hard. Our hands on each other, he kisses my neck, soft, tender kisses, then back to my mouth. He pulls me closer, his ardour apparent against my thigh. I drop a hand and feel him through his trousers.
"Uh huh", he says, stepping away and taking his thickening cock away from my grasp. I look disappointed.
"Slowly", he says, his eyes sparkle.
He takes the spaghetti straps of my ball-gown off my shoulders, kissing the skin as he turns me around. His lips press gently to my neck, up the nape to the hairline, then back down, deliciously soft, his breath warm on my skin. I sense his fingers at the zip of my dress, my nipples begin to rise in anticipation, a dampness forming in my panties. The zip comes down easily, slowly...
The dress comes free, I lift my arms down and forward so he can take it off. I step out of the dress, standing before him in my ivory coloured corset and panties, my sheer hold-up stockings, and my high heels. He takes the dress, carefully laying it over the back of the chair, smoothing the skirt out with his hand, then turns his attention back to me. He sits on the corner of the bed, me in front of him. He takes my hands in his as he studies me. The corset is tight, pushing my small breasts upwards. How I wish they were bigger. He kisses the back of my hand, pulling me a little nearer, and kisses up my arm. His hands around my waist now, running down my buttocks. I quiver inside.
"Turn around". His voice, not ordering me, but I'll obey, all the same. I turn.
His hands are on the hook and eyes along the back of the corset, releasing one, each gentle 'pop' exquisitely teasing. I can feel the pressure releasing on my chest and waist, the cool air of the room reaching inside to tease my nipples ever stiffer. He plants a gentle kiss between the bottom of the corset and the top of my panties. I close my eyes, wanting each second to last an hour.
He unties the laces at the bottom of the corset, and I feel free from its constraint. Still with my back to him, he removes the corset and lays it on the bed. His hands run down my sides, down my hips, down my legs... then slowly back up. His right hand moves around to the front of my legs, running up my thighs, soft against the silk stockings, across the front of my panties, but not stopping, not paying attention to my aching pussy. His lips on my back, tender, teasing. His hand on my stomach, light touches, reaching up to cup the underside of my right breast.
Finally, he turns me, and I'm now facing him. He looks in my eyes, seeing the pleasure, the expectation, the need to be touched, to be loved completely. He gently pulls me forward, his legs spread, I occupy the space between, clad only in my panties, stockings and high heels. He runs his hand across my stomach, upwards, following a trail of freckles towards my breast.
"So beautiful", he almost murmurs as his eyes take in the sight of me. I smile into his eyes. God, I want him so much. His hands reach up, gently cupping my breasts, his thumbs brushing the nipples, and they stiffen even more at his touch. The rose-like buds ache for his attention, and he doesn't disappoint. He caresses around my breasts, light fingertips on my skin, a flush appearing around my throat. His fingers trail down my stomach, then back up, each time coming closer to my nipples, but not touching.
Around the aureoles, his breath now warm on my skin as his head comes ever closer, then the touch of his lips on my nipple, his tongue flicking gently, his teeth closing softly over one, then shifting attention to the second, back to the first, my stomach fluttering, my panties becoming moist. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, his left hand on my other breast, gently kneading the tissue. He kisses between my breasts, he leans upwards to kiss my throat, and I lean forward to meet his lips once more.
He pulls me closer, I'm still standing between his outstretched legs, his hands return to my waist, to the waistband of my panties. I'm pleased with my choice of underwear, as is he. His cock is straining against the front of his trousers. I can imagine the head, all slick with precum. I lick my lips in anticipation, but for now, his attention is on me, just me. He puts his fingers under the side of the panties and gently pulls them down, his head moving closer to me, his hair brushing my stomach, his breath on my crotch, his tongue so close...
He slides the panties down my legs. I'm standing before him, now clad in just my stockings and heels. I feel so... wanton, so decadent. He gazes at my pussy, and I'm glad I took the time to trim my pubic hair and shave around my outer lips.