It didn’t matter that I had not contacted him, I simply messaged and said I needed him and he came. I could have pretended to be engaging and while I was slightly flirtatious, I certainly did not go through any sort of prolonged attempt to engage in banter. I needed two shots of vodka before he arrived because once my initial bravado wore off, I found myself suddenly nervous. He messaged me when he was 10 minutes away and when he arrived, I gave him the grand tour while we drank a glass of wine, as it had been at least 2 years since he had been to my home.
He kissed me of course, after he came inside and the door closed behind him as his hard body pressed against my softer one. The vodka had warmed my blood and it gave me the strength to stand when my knees would have buckled as his firm lips pressed against mine and his full beard scratched against my face. When he hugged me to him, arms encircling me, I felt the familiar surging lust take my breath away, so that I whimpered up into his mouth as he claimed me. I could feel his body tense in automatic response and he instantly pulled me harder against him. His jaw, just that much tighter and when I felt the throb of his awakening hardness against my stomach, I moaned and pulled away before, hands sliding down his chest before things got out of control; before I was out of control.
A few deep and fortifying breaths as I turned from him, seeing the fire in his eyes, knowing he wanted me as much as I needed him and knowing he was letting me get my bearings. We laughed and caught up, as we went through the house, finishing the bottle of Chardonnay before ending up back in the kitchen. Even resisting the temptation of staying in the master bedroom. As I reached across the island to grab the empty bottle and turned to the recycling, he pulled me against his chest and started to massage my shoulders. He kissed the soft indentations and kissed along the top of my shoulder and neckline to behind my ear.
“You have goosebumps”. The deep timber of his voice did nothing to subside them. If anything, all it did was intensify the sensitivity I was experiencing and made my nipples tingle, engorge and lengthen so that they hardened even more than they were. His hands were running across my skin, bringing deep sighs from me and I rested the back of my head on his chest, closing my eyes as he cupped my breasts through my silk sun dress, his rough thumb brushing over the hard centres, hidden beneath my clothes.
It had been so long since he had touched me and yet all it took was moments for my body to remember and to be brought to life underneath his knowing hands. He plays me like a master musician. He literally could simply pick me up and write a masterpiece on my flesh, using sexual satiation as his written work and his hard male flesh as the instrument he uses on me to craft his music with and I am the vessel which is attuned to him and he plays so expertly. His tempo and cadence is perfectly matched for the seasoned piece that I am. I require an expert craftsman who has no hesitation and he knows how to use me perfectly and together the music is spectacular.