In the beginning the lights need to be just right.  Candlelight would be preferred, but that is not always realistic, so something with a dimmer switch.  In the background, some smooth sifts through the air…something jazzy and upbeat without being too spazzed…perhaps Sting singing about a “Stolen Car”, or Harry Connick Jr. claiming to only “Whisper Your Name”.  The couch is a dark fabric matching the dark maroon walls.

Then she will strip down to nothing but black bra, panties and stockings.  She will undress as I watch, putting on a quiet sultry show with a slight blush on her cheeks from her awkward feeling.

On your knees.

Hands behind back to be tied as she remains on erect her knees with the full moon light sliding in the window to give a glint off her belly button piercing.  She now waits…

Good girl…

Spread your legs apart, just a little more.

I lay on my back and move along the carpeted floor until my head is between her, as instructed, spread legs.  Only fabric remains between my tongue and that taste…until I can give her that pleasure.

But not yet.

The music changes to a new tune…Melissa Etheridge crooning about “Similar Features”.

First the anticipation begins as, through the fabric, she feels the tip of my tongue.  Her breathing increases but she remains erect as my beard stubble brushes each thigh.  Then a gasp is released as she feels my tongue slide along the seam of her panties and begin to push past.

Bad girl…those panties are wet and that is not caused by my tongue…well, not directly.

The panties are bunched and pushed aside slowly, dragging them across the lips.  Fingers now come into play…spreading those lips and holding the wet panties aside as the tongue finds her clit quickly and easily.

She nearly collapses…finally…giving into even heavier breathing and moaning as my tongue, after flicking her clit, penetrates her as deep as I can push it to get at her taste.  My work becomes more intense as teeth pull at pussy lips and fingers join my tongue in search of her wet taste…

Scream, girl…scream for me.  No one else will hear you.

She does…sitting on my face trying to feel my tongue deeper as her orgasm overtakes her like the turtle chasing the hare.

Scream she does.

Good girl.

Releasing her from my mouth’s grip, I gain my feet and stand in front of her.  I straighten my tie and glasses and gaze into her blue eyes.

“Please,” she whispers.  “Please…I want it.”  Her pierced tongue licks her lips in anticipation of the next action.

New song again…Peter Gabriel claims that “Red Rain” is falling…

My left hand grasps her blonde hair.  My right hand pulls down the zipper on my pants.

Very good girl.

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