Vodka Rocks Surprise - Sex Stories

Vodka Rocks Surprise

... thigh. Pass me the other one, will you please.’ A repeat performance with the other leg allowed a glimpse of a black triangle, higher up, with a similar pattern to the stockings. I stood leaning against the mantelpiece, fearing to sit beside her on the tiny sofa that would have f***ed a physical intimacy which, although longed for, I was not quite ready to encounter. Besides. I was trying to be polite and not crowd her. (Nah, I was just enjoying looking at her from where I stood. Her ample cleavage, her décolletage, tanned and firm skinned, peeping out from her low buttoned blouse. But I tried not to make it obvious. I didn’t want her to think I was that obvious!) She slipped back into her heels, stood up and paced around the room looking down at her legs. ‘Mmm, I do rather like these. Hate wearing tights. Especially when the weather is so close. Stockings are so much sexier, don’t you think?’ I did think. And she knew I did by the unmistakable bulge in my jeans. In one graceful move she picked up her glass and sat back down. The ice tinkled musically. She took a long sip, and with the fingers of her free hand gently traced the outline of each outstretched leg in turn, as she admired the new stockings, and how they looked on her. And, finding herself content with them, gave a satisfied little smile to no one in particular. Except perhaps, to her inner thoughts. Her skirt had risen up to just above the stocking tops, revealing an inch or two of pale flesh contrasted against ...

... the black lace. Putting the glass down again, she stood up and smoothed the skirt down over her arse; wickedly smiling at me all the time. ‘I’ve not got such a bad shaped bottom for my age. Do you think?’ Statement not question. I tried to answer, but my mouth was very dry, so I only nodded, and took a quick embarrassed sip of cool liquid. But she didn’t mind his embarrassment. In fact she enjoyed it. She was looking at the bulge in my jeans, which I sort of tried to disguise by standing sideways. It was blisteringly hot outside, and only marginally cooler in the flat, the windows of which had long since been painted shut and never to be opened. The atmosphere in there was what I would describe as ‘exotic’. Produced by a combination of her perfume, the heat, wisps of evaporating vodka leaving my glass and getting into my nose, her looking straight into my eyes with that teasing smile, fanning herself with the card pack from her stockings, me taking great gulps to try and moisten my parched throat, the vodka getting to my brain, her unbuttoning her blouse, slowly, allowing me to soak up the sight, as she saw my cock getting bigger and harder. She reached out and hooked some fingers under the waist band of my jeans, pulling me towards her. ‘C’mere.’ she said, taking the glass from my trembling hand, she downed the contents in it in one gulp and threw it on the sofa. The ice cubes s**ttering everywhere. Turning to me, she brushed her soft cheek against mine and purred into my ear, ...