I listened and I knew he was there.
I could hear the chink of ice on crystal as he poured his usual gin and tonic.
My clothes were laid out on the bed.
Stockings, black and seamed, ready to be held up by the suspender belt. The pink rose’s adding softness to the harshness of the black.
My matching Bra.
No knickers, as requested.
My favourite red dress and black sling-back heels completing the outfit.
I had spent some time in the shower too, removing hair.
My arms, legs and pubic area.
I dressed quickly.
I knew he would want another drink soon.
That was my responsibility.
Light make up, gloss, mascara.
A light spray of Lolita and I was ready to descend downstairs.
I turned the handle of the door and moved quickly into the room. It was quiet, the curtains closed, the only light the flicker of the mindless television, turned down to eliminate all sound.
In the far corner on the sofa was Jason, half in shadow, a thin stream of smoke escaping his lips from his cigarette.
I collected his glass and walked into the kitchen. I refresh his gin and tonic and pour myself a large one too.
Experience tells me I am going to need it. I can feel him waiting.
Back in the room I sit on the sofa opposite. I know better than to go to him just yet. I know what he wants to see. I will wait for the sign to begin.
I lean forward and gulp deep on my gin, the fluid warming me, numbing me to the proceedings ahead? Dutch courage? Not really? I have been here many times before. Why does he excite me so much, when all I feel is “dirty”?
Suddenly Jason’s tumbler goes down firm on the table. It is the sign.
I slowly stand, a bit wobbly on the heels due to the gin. I slide my fingers through my hair and run my hands round my neck and across my shoulders. I linger on my breasts and move down to my tummy and thighs.
I catch the bottom of my dress and start to pull it up over my body.
Before I can remove the dress he is there stopping me. I am exposed and restrained by him, holding my arms above my head and the dress twisted round my fingers.
I know he is inspecting. His fingers brush my tummy, over my belly button, down to my freshly shaved area. I tense a bit as he slowly forces his finger along my folds. I gasp as his finger reaches the moistness and he glides right through my lips.
I ask myself again, why does he make me so wet when I know what is to come?
He rotates me and makes me kneel on the sofa. Everything is exposed. He drapes my hands over the back of the sofa and I hear his belt buckle and top button being popped.
I am hot.
My lips feel on fire.
I really have been longing for this. I know he won’t need coaxing out of his trousers. I then feel his cock. He is dripping as there is no friction, as he glides it up the back of my legs.
I hear the crack of his belt before I feel it, as it makes contact with my backside. Thwack. Thwack.
I bite down hard on my lip, tears well in my eyes as the shock runs up my body. I try not to let him sense my pain. My backside is burning as he traces the welts marks with his fingers. They are so tender already even though I am still slightly in shock. I hear the clink of the ice in his glass. Then the cold ice is gently rubbed on my marks. All over my buttocks then down in between my thighs, up to my wet folds where he applies a bit more pressure as he teases it over my clit, sending my body into a different kind of shock. This time one of pleasure.
Pop. The ice cube disappears right up inside me. It stings from the alcohol. I can feel it starting to melt from my heat. My stocking tops are getting wet from the leaking ice.
Jason kneels down behind me and starts lapping at the cool liquid as it dribbles out of me. His tongue flicking in and out as the water starts to stream out of me. He then moves his cold tongue over my clit and I am again lost in pleasure.
Jason stands and finally removes my dress. It’s a relief to be able to breathe properly as it was getting unbearable under there.
My body was so ready for a release I had secretly been waiting for his visit for days. Jason takes me by the hand and leads me to the far end of the sofa. He bends me over the arm rest. My backside exposed and stuck up in the air. I feel him mount the sofa and rests one hand on my ass making me wince. With the other he guides his manhood into me. I bet its cold in there.
He thrusts into me deep and hard. We are both so aroused from the ice play. I am getting breathless from each deep pump. Jason reaches over to his glass on the coffee table without missing a beat.
Again I hear the clink of ice and then the cool trickle of water in the groove of my butt cheeks as it drips down on our locked genitals. Driving our climax to the fore. I flop exhausted against the sofa. Jason gentle kisses my backside, collects his glass and leads me to the kitchen.
Ready for another gin and tonic with more ice, I hope.
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