I am almost done. For the final piece of my ensemble, I reach for the red jewel box and snap it open. Resting on the black velvet cushion inside is a pearl necklace, it shimmers in the bright light of the small bulbs that border the dressing-table mirror; they shift colours: pink, silver and snow; like dreams captured in beads. I take it by the gold clasp and let the pearls slide across my fingers. So smooth, so perfect. As I brush aside the hair at my nape to clasp it around my neck, I see him come up behind me, in the mirror. He rests his hands on the high, ornate back of my chair.
"The pearls don't do you justice," he says, a sly smile plays across his lips.
I can't see his eyes though, they are draped in shadow. He takes the necklace from my acquiescing hands and leans forward to place it back in its velvet womb. The smell of aftershave washes over my face. So close, he sets off a domino effect of awareness that spreads from my extremities and into my core. I can feel the wetness soak my most intimate clothing. I was already highly strung in anticipation of the evening's party at our house; a small private gathering of our friends, the ones who were willing and those who were curious.
He straightens and smooths out his black suit. I barely notice it as I sit there hypnotised until his warm hand rests on my bare shoulders. I jolt back to reality. Desire dominates both the background and the fore. I want him, I want him even before the party down stairs begins. But I'll wait, and let this smoulder. I know it will be worth it.
"I want you to wear something unique tonight. Pearls just won't cut it."
I turn away from the mirror and face him. I look into his dark eyes, the smile accentuates the look of possession in them.
"On your knees."
I comply, my eyes still locked in gaze with his. Once on my knees, I don't move, I don't attempt to reach for his pants, but I can sense the urgency within his shorts straining to burst out. He unbuckles his belt, it comes off with a rapid rustle as the leather escapes the loops. The heavy buckle lands with a soft thud on the thick carpet. In a flash he unzips the fly and reaches within to pull out his hard, veined, cock. I break eye contact to look it, the pinkish violet head stretches beyond the cover of the foreskin. A thin smear of pre-cum coats the puckered sensitive skin around the eye. I wet my lips involuntarily, the smooth texture of the lip gloss greets my tongue.
He cups a hand under my chin and draws my mouth towards his cock. I open wide to accommodate his girth, the salt sweet taste of the pre-cum fuses with the tip of my tongue. Without warning he thrusts forward, I react fast so as not to hurt him. He slides half his length in; I gag and salivate all over his cock. He pulls out slowly, I apply pressure on the rim of his head with my tongue. I know he loves it. And as his head retreats back to my lips, I flick the tip of my tongue onto his frenulum. I am rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.
He starts to pump my mouth with earnest. I try to keep pace with his sliding cock, without resorting to use my hands. He didn't instruct me to. The saliva starts dripping down my chin. It trickles down in two or three rivulets down my throat and over the top of my bust. The thin lace over my nether lips are ineffective in holding the viscous moisture, the slickness coats my tightly pressed thighs. I moan my pleasure into his cock. Still I keep my hands by my sides, like the good girl that I am.
His thrusts get deeper and faster, and a little erratic. He cups my face in his hands and shoves deep, right up to his pubes. I gag and place my hands on his thighs to brace myself. I can feel the tension build in his muscles and reach their limit. He withdraws and points his cock at my saliva coated neck. A thick, hot spurt chases away the coolness left behind by the saliva trail. Then another, and another, till his throbbing cock depletes it's load. I catch my breath, in short gasps and tilt my head up to see his face. It's serene. The glazed look clears and he looks down at me and he smiles. Not that playful smile, but a vulnerable one. I return it.
He uses his shorts to wipe the wetness off his cock and stuffs it back into his trousers. He picks up the belt and guides it through the loops and buckles it. All the while I remain on the floor, my toes curled in an attempt to control my desires. Once he's done, he lets me rise me up by clasping my shoulders. The cum has congealed a little. The thick globs that trailed down by throat soaked the top of my dress, but the trail itself is visible, like a fancy choker that adorned only the front of the throat. He wipes away my chin and draws me closer for a kiss. I slip my tongue into his mouth and feed him his own flavour. We let our tongues play for a while and pull away to catch our breath. His eyes travel down to my chest where the dress reveal an ample portion of my bust. I know he enjoys the way my chest heaves, my bust trying to escape the confines of my tight evening dress.
"These look much better on you than those pearls."
I smile. With an uncharacteristic shyness I lean on to his shoulders to hide the happiness I feel in his satisfaction.
Below the doorbell rings. The guests are here, there's still The Party to host. And without doubt everyone will notice my necklace, their eyes will linger on them much longer than they would have on the pearls if I had gone with them.
(To be cont.)
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