Warm Wet Velvet

That night there was an unusual storm brewing. That night you, as usual, had nothing to do; so you sat home alone, in your ratty robe, reading.

Your mood was restless and agitated. Your mind wandered from the story before you and prowled with the winds, roughly pulling at the shutters and wildly wailing through the tree limbs. You kept trying to bring it back, re-reading the same paragraphs again and again, only to find yourself returning to thoughts of the blustery world outside… The currents were your hands, coarsely caressing and tossing aside; the gusts grating and buffeting like a glans into whatever crevice wanderlust made manifest before moving onto the next.

Such acrimonious appetites were disturbed by a noise. It sounded like something — maybe the wind itself? — was at the door.

Muttering to yourself, you put the book down on the settee and allowed yourself the distraction of going to check.

Upon opening the door you found a stray sitting on your doorstep — but this kitten seeking shelter was no ball of fluff. It was a blonde-haired, ivory-skinned kitten who sat (her most intimate parts barely covered by flimsy bits of peach silk and ivory lace) with her knees tucked beneath her chin, hands grasping delicate ankles above pretty silver shoes.

warm wet velvetWordlessly you could do nothing but wonder as you drank in the sight of her. She turned, placing her left temple on her right knee, and looked back at you with black eyes. “So alone, so terribly alone,” was what your uneasy mind heard her mew… But there was no noise — none at all. Even the wind, evidenced by the (unvoiced) moving trees and the (silently) swaying shutters, said nothing.

Your door (and likely your mouth) was agape and seizing the opportunity, she rose on those pretty silver shoes and entered.

You followed, closed the door behind you, and sagged your full weight against it as you looked at her. She was not frightened, nor inhibited as she stood facing you; but somehow vulnerable just the same.

Everything about her was pale — pale, small and luminous — radiating outward; except for her eyes. Those were large, deep and dark. Like fine velvet which, having absorbed so many tears, now was so heavily soaked as to threaten little cursive trails… And making you wonder if she was ruined beyond salvation.

It was her eyes — her imploring, haunting eyes — which spoke of her aching need.

Most would have found her unexpected arrival and scantily-clad status to be arousing; but you, you responded to her loneliness.

You found her sadness to be the most erotic thing of all.

“Warm me,” she said.

Just those two words.

Two prayers — one for each of you.

Just those two words.

And permission was yours.

You walked to her, placed your hands on her shoulders, and bent your head to hers for a kiss. One kiss or many you cannot say for once your lips met, you melted together in a slow-jumble of skin, lips and hands.

Your fingers slid the silk straps from her shoulders, pushed the silk and lace over her hips… No sooner had the fabric fallen to the floor than she was on her knees, hands pushing past your robe, reaching for — then sucking on — your dick, looking up at you with those liquid eyes.

Fearing you would come too soon, your hands gently but firmly pushed her away and lifted her to her feet — or rather lifted her to standing on those pretty shoes.

She led you to the settee, and wordlessly she pressed you into sitting on the half of it. A moment later she straddled your lap, one of her silver shoes knocking your book unceremoniously to the floor. She paused just a moment before she slowly lowered herself onto you. You had warmed her well and now her heat enveloped you like warm, wet velvet — like the sorrow of her eyes was now wrapped around your cock — and you wondered briefly if it might be you who would be ruined.

She used her arms, leveraging and pressing against the back of the settee, to pump herself up and down. Every time she buried you deep inside herself her head went back a bit, her eyes closed in a visual sigh. Every time she rose up, tilting forward ever so slightly, she thrusted those eyes of hers open and locked them onto yours. For some reason, her intense stare made you flush…

Just when you thought you could no longer bear such scrutiny, she pushed herself down on you again, slightly grinding her hips back as she did so, and her gaze was averted; her eyes and their world closed to you again.

Now you struggled to keep your own eyes open as she again impaled herself on your probing member. You marveled at the pleasure of her hot wet velvet pussy pulling as her hips rocked-and-rose forward — equal in measure to the profound penetration of her liquid velvet gaze. It was an odd yet powerful combination, this; her warm body pulling at your staff as her eyes bore through yours. Like some wet velvet tug of war she was demanding you give both seed and soul.

Languid and lush was the up and down; slow and sensual the to and fro. On and on she fucked you. Until —

Her mouth opened in a larger O as she arched her back and presented her breasts just a tongue-flicker’s distance from your face — all while she pulsed and danced around your own ejaculating prick.

Then she slowly drooped forward and rested her damp forehead against your own. So you both sat for a few moments as the wind seemed to roar past the shutters with a loud glee you’d never heard before.

Spent and satisfied, she left your lap. With a wicked grin on her lips, her black eyes now sparkling as a clear night’s sky full of stars, she curled up like a contented kitten on the other half the settee. Reaching her arms over her head she stretched out, from fingertips to toes, and then, closing her eyes, she shrank back down into a fetal tuck, leaving the only point of contact the lower part of her legs draped across your lap.

Lower legs, feet, and those pretty silver shoes neither of you had worried about removing.

You tucked your fingers in the ankle straps of those pretty, pretty shoes, anchoring yourself to her — or she to you — feeling, somehow, this would prevent the winds which had brought her to you from taking her away while you both slept.

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