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erotic: “relating to or tending to arouse sexual desire or excitement.”
There can be no doubt that those words already described his thoughts when thinking of her! Right now, he mused, she would have one hand under her shirt finding its way into her bra, the other pressing firmly inside the front of her trousers. Her eyes are closing, breathing getting deeper. In his waking thoughts, anyway…
He emerged from his bed early. The bed was empty, she was away for a few days visiting her family. With a stretch, and a yawn, he pulled back the bedroom curtains. It was still dark. The early hour meant he should be able to observe the break of day. And if he was lucky take pictures of it too. He dropped the boxer shorts he had been sleeping in and hurried to the bathroom. He didn’t have time to shave so instead stood under the shower. The water was neither hot or cold. On the cooler side of warm perhaps, so as to awaken and refresh him. And his thoughts. Dressing quickly, he put a flask of hot coffee and a few sandwiches in a bag and took them, along with his camera and tripod, to his car. This was a lot of effort for something that was just a hobby.
He drove quickly into the countryside there being few other cars on the same roads before coming to rest near to a familiar field. He walked a mile or so before stopping to set up his camera and wait. He didn’t have to wait too long before dawn had started with the darkness slowly giving way to dull and grey clouds. The air was cool, still and hinted that autumn was soon to visit. At least the low-lying mists of the previous evening were disappearing. Over a period of half an hour or more he took several shots of the field. A field visited only recently with a friend. A close, intimate friend.
As he waited between taking the pictures he thought about her. He was recalling her undressing, before she had become naked in front of him in that warm afternoon sunshine. He wondered what it would be like to photograph her body, both then, and here right now. Not just any body, her body, with all of its natural curves and the shapes that were so pleasing to his eyes. The subtle shade of her tan, those breasts with the nipples he ached to kiss. Her smooth mound and the pleasure to be found there – for him, for her. He thought about the effect of including her in the landscape. Thought of how it might change the pictures having her stood in the field, her arms outstretched, her fingers pointing skyward. Perhaps if she were here now it would be a little too cold. But if she were here, there would be time and ways in which to warm her afterward.
The benefit of a day off was that he could do with it as he pleased. But he didn’t want to waste it. He returned home to review the pictures he had taken. He had taken over seventy shots. Some were quickly discarded, but most he was content with and showed how the darkness had evolved into morning, including the twenty minutes or so when the sun had actually shone. He selected a dozen images that told the story of the dawn and saved them into a separate folder on his computer. Before shutting down his PC he checked his emails, both for work and his personal account, there were several new arrivals in each. A brief review of those for work confirmed he could answer them tomorrow. In the personal account, there was one from her, with attachments. It read simply:
“I hope we are still on for lunch? I’m still choosing…what to wear…for you!!
The attachments were two new photographs. Two “selfies” shot with the help of a full-length mirror. In the first it was obvious that she was nude, and he felt a certain area in his jeans twitching in response to what he could see. In each hand she held a bra, each a different colour and style, and held in such a way that neither her breasts nor anywhere else showed. In the other, her hands covered her belly and dangling from the fingertips two pairs of knickers that hid her mound. He smiled and that twitching grew stronger. Much stronger. In the pictures, the most he could see was hints of her breasts and hips. He liked how she revealed herself to him. Selective, considered. Her choices carefully made. Often, she chose to be rude, very rude. But never crude. She still had a shyness for that. At least that was what he thought.
Time was passing quickly, funny how it did that when he was on his own time. Working days often passed very slowly by comparison. He answered her email simply:
“Yes. I am curious as to what you will choose. Are they new? XxxX”
Before waiting for her reply, he shut down the PC and headed to the kitchen to make a drink. He sat while his black coffee cooled, mulling over the place where she had requested they meet. It wasn’t too far, Three quarters of an hour, an hour at most. The first half of the journey should be easy enough, on main roads. The rest looked to be a little twisty to the small village where the restaurant was. As he stepped outside and into his car he felt warm sun on his arms.
The bakırköy escort earlier grey sky having been replaced with sunshine. The journey took him longer than expected and he was glad of allowing enough time to get there. The village was small and so too the official restaurant car park, which was full when he arrived. Fortunately, he was a few minutes early giving him time to find a space further down the main street.
He walked to the restaurant which had a small frontage and he wondered how a place so small could have such a busy car park. Appearances proved to be deceptive. The restaurant was a kind of a “Tardis”, being much larger inside than appeared from the road outside. It was very busy, the tables that he could see all full with diners. There was a healthy atmosphere of relaxed chatter and he was liking the place. She had chosen carefully he mused, and chosen well. He was guided, by a smart youngish, maitre’d, to a table in a smaller room at the back. He sat at the table, set for two, and waited only a few moments before a young waitress came to take a drink order. He settled on orange juice and lemonade, with ice. Something that was cool and also refreshing.
He waited, studying the newspaper that had been offered to him and looking around at the other diners. He had checked his phone a couple of times, no messages. He wondered if she had changed her mind. He would understand if she did. He needn’t have worried though. For after a few minutes she appeared in the doorway with the waitress, who was now showing her to the table. She was wearing black jeans that fitted closely, but very well. And also wore a blouse loosely over a white vest top. He could see little of her legs the skin was bare and her feet fitted snugly into heeled shoes. The heels were not too tall, and she walked easily, with a slight sway of her hips, over to the table and joined him. He stood, to greet her politely with a gentle kiss on each cheek.
The greeting was warm, friendly but would have left anyone watching unaware of how well they already knew each other, or how intimate their friendship might be.
They sat and he listened to the tale of her journey which had proved much more difficult than his own and accounted for her lateness. As he took in the words he took time to take a closer look at her. A much closer look at her blouse and white top. For now, he could only guess at her choice of underwear, hoping he would get to see it later. Her top clearly emphasised the curves of her bosom. The fabric was clinging to her, the outline of her large breasts smooth, suggesting that her bra was plain and not lacy, though he could be wrong. She wore a silver, heart shaped necklace which slipped neatly into the top of her cleavage. And his eyes rested there a moment. Her hair looked freshly washed and styled and he liked it. He liked too, the understated make-up which made the most of her eyes and ever so kissable lips.
Their conversation was relaxed and flowed easily. They had agreed not to talk about work, and instead he told her about the photos he had earlier taken. She was surprised by how many he had taken, but still expressed an interest in seeing them, and he resolved to email them to her later. Sharing pictures and photos was something they had an interest in. Something they were becoming accustomed to. She liked his taste in art, especially the images by Jack Vettriano. She liked the more explicit photos he shared. And the sexual feelings they brought her. And she was fast developing an interest in the photos he took. As well as improving her own skills at taking images. She had confessed some time before that the first images he had seen of her had been the first she had taken of herself like that. Intimate and revealing of some of her body. She was thrilled that he liked them and had since not only taken, but shared, quite a few more. The latest being in her email earlier. He teased her about the two photos. And they both laughed as she blushed a little. They continued to chat, about a wide range of things. Their subject often fell to, or hinting about, sex. The background noise meant she felt confident enough to talk out load to him about some of these things. Normally she reserved such thoughts to her emails to him or instant messages.
Both words and fine food passed their lips. They each had four courses washed down with white wine, though not too much as both were driving. He felt full, but comfortably so and enjoyed the coffee that followed the creamy dessert. They both fell silent.
“So, which do you think I chose?” she said after a while, and more boldly than he expected.
“The dark blue…” He replied.
“You will just have to wait and see!” she answered quickly before a pause.
“Or not.” It was her turn to tease him.
“…it looked like it might be see though?” he added. His comment had made her blush again and she didn’t answer. Again, they fell silent and he took the opportunity to request the başakşehir escort bill.
After they had left the restaurant he escorted her back to her car. They hadn’t really talked about what they were going to do next and he suggested they might take a walk. He didn’t know the village or where they might go, but it was an idea.
“I have a better idea.” She said, hesitantly. “A place a friend knows. They have a pool if you fancy exercising away that lunch? A drive involved, but not too far.”
He thought about it for a moment.
“I don’t have any trunks or shorts.” He said.
“No matter, I’m sure you can buy or borrow some when you get there. They have a gym too if you prefer.” Good answer. He was guessing she had a bikini or costume of her own in her car.
“Ok. The afternoon is still ahead of us. Why not.” He said.
The drive was further than expected, at least half an hour, and the place increasingly remote. But he continued to follow her. A tree lined drive brought them to a country cottage. A couple of other cars were already there. He was puzzled though, no sign of a pool let alone a gym. The place didn’t seem big enough. He secured his car before following her to the door. An older man answered and signed them in. He wasn’t sure if the man knew her, or whether she’d been there before but let his mind discard such thoughts. The man pointed toward a corridor which he said led to the gym, and the pool and the changing rooms. He figured that’s where they were going so took one of the two identical bags she held and started off that way. Instead she took hold of his arm and they followed the man upstairs to the second floor. There were a number of rooms on each floor, but all seemed fairly quiet. It was mid-afternoon so maybe everyone was out? The man showed them to a room.
The man disappeared and closed the door. The room was spacious and well-lit by the afternoon sunshine. There was a large double bed, a coffee table with a couple of chairs and a desk and chair. A keyboard was on the desk and on a wall a large TV. On another wall, a large mirror. One on the ceiling too. They both giggled as they tried different doors. A couple hid cupboards, another hid a very generous en-suite bathroom that also housed a walk-in shower. Another door opened to another room. There was a large table and four chairs and floor to ceiling windows with a balcony beyond. He was surprised by how big the “room” was and fascinated too. Only then did he realise she was close to him, arms resting on his shoulders, her breasts nudging his chest. She kissed him. Firmly.
“I need the bathroom.” She said, adding: “Can you get my things out of my bag?” She moved away from him to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
He sat on the edge of the bed and to break the silence he turned on the TV, flicking through the channels until he found a music radio station to his liking. He looked at the bags. They were the same. Both a dark brown in colour and with a black trimming. He lifted each one in turn. They were similar in weight too. So, which one did she mean? Which one did she want him to open? He opened one bag then the other. He felt that was wrong so made as if to close one.
But, again he was mystified as in each bag there was a slightly smaller one made of what looked like black velvet. There were towels in each bag too, soft and white and bath robes. She was still in the bathroom so he took the smaller, black bag from one of the larger ones and opened it. Sure, enough inside there was a one-piece swimsuit. It was black, though with small blocks of white and pale blue. A bikini too, though this was multi coloured and patterned. His tension eased a great deal, so no great mystery after all, and he started to think about where he might get his swimming shorts from. He was starting to look forward to the swim and was imagining what she might look like in her chosen swimwear. He was still curious about what was in the other smaller bag though. He glanced to the bathroom door and wondered how long it would be before she would reappear. The door remained closed but not for long and she returned to greet him. So, the mystery velvet bag and its contents remained unknown.
She stood just in front of him, glanced over her shoulder and looked at the TV. She leaned forward, toward him to get much closer. Her hands briefly on his shoulders and he could see a more than a little way down the front of her top, he could see her cleavage and her purple bra. He felt a twitch in the crotch of his jeans. She kissed him. First on one cheek, then the other. Before she placed a soft, sensual kiss on firmly his lips. He felt another twitch in the crotch of his jeans. She took the mystery bag from beside him on the bed and put in the other room, where he could see, on the large table. Now she picked up her bikini and took the swimsuit from his hand. She was looking into his eyes. He looked back. She seemed so assertive.
“I suppose if we’re going to have bebek escort a swim we’d better get changed, and I should really wear one of these.”
She stepped back a few paces so that she was beyond his reach. She bent down to loosen and kick off her shoes. Standing, her hands moved to her hip and he heard her unzip her jeans. With a wriggle of her hips and help from her hands her black trousers fell to the floor, gathering around her ankles. She stepped from them, kicking them to one side. He looked at her, the hem of her top had fallen to mid-thigh covering her, clean shaven and tanned legs. He hoped for stockings, but they could be for another time? She didn’t give him long to think about it, instead took a hold of her top and dragged it slowly up and over her head before letting it drop on the floor beside her. The heart pendant of her necklace fell over her shoulder and she took a moment to put it back where it had been. She put her hands back on her hips, slowly arched her back a little, pushing her breasts forward. He had been wrong, she had chosen purple underwear not dark blue. And though she wore no stockings, no tights, and he was liking that a lot.
Her bra was underwired, and lightly padded, cradling her breasts and pushing their ample shape forwards. The cups were plain and not lacy, so she hadn’t fooled him in that respect. She turned slowly, to make sure he could see the small, matching purple thong and how it cut between the cheeks of her bottom. She rubbed the outside of her thighs, toying with the smooth flesh. She looked over her shoulder at him. The bulge in his crotch told her how excited she was making him so she turned back to face him. Putting her hands behind her back she started to unhook her bra.
“Or maybe we could do something else?” she said and didn’t take it off.
Looking at him for a second she turned and went to the other room, sitting on the table next to her bag. Her hands clutching the table edge. She offered him the bag.
“Open it for me.” She asked, her voice more trembly than before. Her face was flushed too.
He took hold of it, felt the soft fabric and opened it. He was surprised by what he found inside. Very surprised. There were four silk scarves, two predominantly blue, one red and the other a dark pink. There was a blindfold too. It was a mixture of soft, black leather on one side and blue velvet on the other. Two long silk tapes indicated how it might be tied. He put it on the table. He felt inside the bag for another object. This had a black, wooden handle and several long strands of cord each knotted at the end. He knew what it was although he hadn’t held one before. He played with it in hands for a few seconds before putting it down on the table. He said nothing, she said nothing. He looked at her eyes trying to gauge her reaction to his holding these very personal things. There were three other objects remaining. One was a small, gold coloured bullet vibrator. The second a “wand”. The other, a large rabbit vibrator. He put them back in the bag and returned it to the table.
He said nothing, she said nothing.
He leaned forward, putting his hands on her knees. They were tight, together, but he didn’t force them apart. He kissed her cheeks in turns before trailing soft kisses down her neck. Instinctively her eyes closed and her back arched, her head tilted back. He kissed lower until she could feel his breath in her cleavage. He kissed her there too, nudging the pendant out of the way a moment so that he could keep kissing her soft skin, running the tip of his tongue near the edges of her bra. He stepped away looking at her, admiring her. Admiring her breasts and the way they filled her bra. Admiring the way her mound was covered by a small amount of smooth purple underwear.
He moved a chair so that its seat faced her. He sat down and massaged her legs, spending such a long time over her thighs. They were warm, but not as warm as where they met. Long lingering strokes down the outside of her legs, down to her feet. And back up again, up the inside, to the tops of her thighs. He thought about taking her pants off, but resisted the urge. In truth, he was unsure what to do. Her bag of objects had interrupted his thoughts, but he had long since forgotten about going for a swim. She sensed his hesitation and was herself wondering if this was a good idea after all.
Suddenly, unprompted, he stood up and wandered off to the windows. Opening them wide he stood on the balcony, breathing fresh country air. She was looking back at him, almost convinced she had made a mistake with her idea. Returning inside he pulled the curtains as if to close them. The room darkened a bit, but he left a wide gap so that the room was still lit and air could easily circulate. What was he going to do? She felt a touch of nerves. But trust at the same time.
He said nothing, she said nothing.
He returned to her and tapped the chair back and pointed to the seat. She knew what this meant and slid from the table and sat down. He was behind her and as she looked back he was massaging her shoulders and caressing her back. Perhaps not such a bad idea, she thought. He rubbed her back firmly, occasionally catching the elastic of her thong. After a couple of minutes, he stopped and took the blindfold from the table.
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