Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Redhead

I have to admit my curiosity was piqued. The messenger had arrived at my office with the hand written invitation and a single ticket to the opera. I’ve never been overly fond of sitting through the grandeur of an opera, but Puccini’s Tosca is a personal favorite. How she had known that…well, that was something to ask her when I arrived. I had to smile at the fact that she seemed to have done some research and admittedly, I had done the same.

After the dinner party where we met it didn’t take me long to find out which firm she worked with. A lengthy luncheon and drinks with the right people and I had the readers digest version of her life as they knew it. It was comforting to know I had crossed her mind too, and that she was curious enough to investigate my operatic preference.

Pulling up in front of the theatre I let the valet take my car, slipping the ticket into my breast pocket. Another smile as I realized she had managed to find a reason for me to wear my tux. Shaking my head I moved inside and was directed to a private box along the exclusive balcony row. Impressed again, I paused outside the door a moment then moved beyond and inside.

My breath caught and I had to mentally focus to keep my mouth from hanging open. She was a vision. Oh, yes she had outdone herself. She sat near the balcony wall; one gloved arm lay across its surface. As she turned to look at me and smiled, I noticed the color of her gown was an exact match for her sultry grey eyes. I caught myself wondering about the length of her hair. The first time we met she had worn it swept up of that graceful neck as it was now. All I knew was its honey blonde color, and that it must be curly, for the wisps that escaped the twist that held it at the back of her head spiraled at her temple and along the curve of her neck.

I felt my mouth go dry as I looked at her. The style of the dress left her shoulders bare and hugged her breasts, emphasizing every curve of her petite form. How such a simple little frock could make a mans blood run was beyond me, though when she stood and I caught the flash of skin from a daring slit to mid thigh, I had a pretty good idea it was not the dress but what was beneath that held such attractive prospects. Suddenly I knew for fact that women are much more clever than the male of the species. It seemed every detail was geared to make all the blood rush from my brain to throb tightly within my trousers. Once we are befuddled we are at their mercy.

Crossing to her I drew her close pressing a soft kiss to her temple, shifting to speak close to her ear. “What a very pleasant surprise. Thank you for inviting me.”

I felt her shiver and took comfort in the knowledge that I was not the only one affected by the whole situation. She laughed softly and lifted those smoky, grey eyes to mine.

“I told you I would make sure you saw me again.”

Grinning slightly I lifted my brows. “I did try to call you. You are a very busy woman. It was clever of you to make me wait and wonder.”

“Mmnhmm well I thought perhaps it was time the shoe was on the other foot. bahis firmaları I’m sure you’ve left many a woman to wait impatiently for the phone to ring.”

Reaching up I caressed her face, letting my thumb linger along her cheekbone, lowering my voice, my own words surprising me. “I will never make you wait.”

It had to be her scent.

She smelled like sex, and honey. Earthy, almost spiced but with an underlying scent I couldn’t quite identify. Whatever it was I wanted to taste it on her skin. We stood there for a few minutes, unaware of the throng of people around us or the din of the crowd. Slowly she drew back and gave me that sensuous smile. The lights flashed as signal that things were about to begin. Something in her eyes told me I was in for more than I had bargained for.

Taking our seats we turned to watch the stage. Tosca is an ill-fated love story, in truth that’s probably the reason I like it. The music is passionate and the characters interesting enough to keep even my attention, usually. I found my eyes drifting to her, as though I could not get enough of the sight. The memory of her legs wrapped around my hips in that butler’s pantry filled my mind. The way the slinky black dress she wore had clung in all the right places, and how easily it had lifted beneath my hands to allow me all the pleasures of her body.

I shifted in my chair, closing my eyes against the memory. My body stirred again and I nearly groaned at the thought that it would be a long night unless I could have her again. Determined to do this right and not push her I turned my attention back to the stage, but all too soon I found I was watching her again. How her throat moved when she swallowed, the way the corners of her mouth lifted when she was amused, the soft rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. She turned her head, giving me a sidelong glance then laughed, leaning close to whisper near my ear.

“If you continue to stare at me I will just have to give you something to watch.”

Puzzled I arched a brow and gave her a grin. “Just what did you have in mind?”

Her smile was enticing, eyes brimming with mischief as she drew off one of her gloves. The sound of material against skin made my hands itch to touch her dress, but I remained where I was, watching, wondering what she intended. Slowly her gloved hand moved over the back of her neck and down over the side of her throat. Its surface giving off a soft whisper that seemed to echo in my mind, drowning out the music. Fingers encased in the material moved over the swell of her breasts, teasing down beneath the front to toy with a nipple that grew taut even as I watched. Oddly I knew how it felt. It seemed my whole body screamed “foul” from beneath the confines of my tuxedo. Swelling and throbbing as the pulse of my blood rang in my head. She wouldn’t…

I watched as her bare hand moved down over her body, taunting me as it paused here or there to caress then disappeared beneath the slit in her skirt. Gritting my teeth I looked up to meet her eyes, an unspoken warning in them going unheeded kaçak iddaa as I watched her face express the pleasure her hand played between her legs, hidden from my sight. She gave a soft moan, head falling back as her hand moved faster beneath her skirt, lips parting with a low guttural moan that I echoed as my hands fisted against the arm rests of my chair.

For a moment I thought she was going to stop and have a good laugh at my expense, obviously doing this to excite me, tease me. Then she shuddered, panting then moaning as she bit her lower lip. Her skin flushed and when she looked at me I saw the same expression in her eyes that had haunted my every waking moment since last we met. She gave me a seductive smile and drew her hand from her skirt lifting it to her mouth to suckle her taste from her fingers. Unable to stand anymore I lunged forward to catch her wrist as she drew her hand back, locking eyes with her, my words ground out past clenched teeth. “No more games.”

She looked surprised then smiled triumph as the lights rose and intermission was called. Once again we were too much in the public eye and I was forced to ease back. Trying to make my voice sound casual I cleared my throat.

“Alright, you win that one. I need a drink. Would you like something?”

Her eyes took a slow lingering perusal of my body then back up to meet my smoldering gaze. Her smile was wicked, as she shook her head no. I was flooded with relief. I had to get away from her for a few minutes. Leaning to brush my mouth to hers I ended up delving deeper, tongue searching out her taste along her tongue before I forced myself to stand. Despite my efforts I heard the strain in my voice as I told her I would be right back. Moving quickly out into the crowd I felt the crush of those around me and fought my way to the bar. Downing two shots of scotch I knew I was lost when the flavor and scent only reminded me of her. All right, playtime is over. She wants to tease me she will see the results of her efforts.

Determination driving my steps, I went back upstairs, pausing at the door that would lead to our private box. Nothing had eased. My body still thrummed with the desire to rip that beautiful dress from her body and take her bent over the railing for all to watch. Closing my eyes I tried to calm myself, then stepped inside. The vision only intensified as she stood there, hands braced at her sides along that very rail, looking down over the crowd. Slowly I moved up behind her, my arm snaking around her waist as I pressed the length of my body to hers. She fit so well against me. I rubbed the bulge of my cock against the sweet curve of her ass to show her just what kind of effect she’d had. I felt her stomach muscles tense beneath my hand as pressed my lips to her ear.

“I hope you don’t mind public displays, because unless you want me to lift your skirt and take you from behind, here and now, we had better take our seats.”

She turned her head and I tilted mine so her mouth was near my ear, expecting a reply. What I got instead was a jolt of lightening from the soft warm kaçak bahis caress of her tongue along the curve of my ear that went straight to my groin. I felt my cock surge and swell as I groaned closing my eyes. Desperate now I looked around and drew her back and away from the open front of the balcony. Reaching out I untied one of the decorative curtains on the sidewall letting it fall enough to shadow us from the prying eyes of the audience. Jerking one of the chairs back toward us I bent her over its cushioned back lifting her skirt as I nudged her feet wider apart. I heard her laugh as though she didn’t believe I would continue then gasp as I tore the lacy excuse for panties that covered her sex, tossing them aside. Undoing my slacks I freed my anxious cock and rubbed the head along her heated slit. She shuddered and moaned looking back over her shoulder at me as though she might protest, then I plunged deep inside her, the words dying on her lips as I felt her body grip the length of my shaft.

I worked up into her, each stroke deeper than the last. My hands roamed her body, one arm tightening around her waist to force her back to meet my thrusts, the other caressing her breast through the material of her dress. Soon she was slamming back against me and I groaned as she arched her back to lean back against my chest, lifting her breasts to my hands. I drew the front of her dress down to expose them, rolling her nipples between my thumb and forefingers. I felt her tremble and tense, then groan as she squirmed her ass back to meet my thrusts.

Her hands moved to my sides, nails raking my hips as I fucked up into her, our pace growing with the fevered crescendo of the music until I felt her muscles spasm and tighten around me, my breath catching in my throat. I felt her gasp and cry out, the sound lost as the music swelled and the voices of the singers met and rose within the song. My arms wrapped around her as I pounded into her, my last thrust forced deep within the tight grip of her muscles as I flooded heat into the spasming core of her body. My mind reeled, body twitching, the heat burning through me as I emptied into her. I felt her body slowly ease, muscles still gripping me softly.

We stayed that way, breathless as the haze of passion ebbed with the music. For a few moments of silence there was only our heartbeats and the thrumming of our bodies, then I heard her laughter and slowly came back to the room around us. The thunderclap of applause was deafening. Laughing I eased from her body and turned her around to kiss her deeply, slowly exploring her mouth as my hands worked to right her dress. Her own fastened my pants and she drew back and inspected my tux, pausing to straighten my tie.

We returned to our seats and watched the rest of the opera, her body snugged against mine, my arm along her seat back, our hands entwined. I didn’t spend much time considering the last movements of Tosca that evening. My mind was working on how I could entice this creature into another evening, on my terms. Leaning to her I whispered against her ear softly.

“So…do you like hockey?”

The smile she gave me was answer enough. I couldn’t wait to orchestrate an evening of more casual entertainment, and I grinned as I plotted what it would take to get that lovely hair down.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32