Seduction & Desire (Alone?) - Sex Stories

Seduction & Desire (Alone?)

... the evening has suddenly taken a very dramatic turn. He gestures to the barman, who seems to respond too efficiently to his summons. “Orange Juice Sir?” he questions politely, already knowing the answer. “Please. And another Gin & Tonic?” he questions as he looks at you, and you nod affirmatively, happy. “Would you like to come and sit with me?” a direct question as the drinks are prepared, and unbeknown to him, your clench the metal toy, thinking that if you are going to spend any time talking with him then it would probably be better to sit in a more comfortable chair. The barman places the drinks in front of him, which he expertly collects in one hand and offers his elbow to you, walking you across to the windowed bay overlooking the grounds of the hotel. It is dark outside, and the glass provides a level of radiant coolness than you feel around you, almost as if he knows how hot you are, both inside and out; your nipples are erect, as you glance at his mouth, imagining him sucking them and you realise that there is no way you can remove your jacket, for now at least. You sit, making yourself comfortable as he waits, a gentleman, and as you look at him he sits opposite you, the small table almost reminds you of an arena, in which you will both play together in. He looks around, as if judging the surroundings: “I hope this is OK?” he asks, and you relax, smiling deeply, the muscles in your jaw aching and your press your knees together, squeezing your thighs, conscious of ...

... the effect the stranger has on you, how wet you are and how wet you want to be. “It’s…” with some hesitation as to finding the right words; “Perfect for me.” And you realise the honesty of your answer – something that he picks up on and places his hand over the top of yours, providing a small squeeze, physical but very close. His skin isn’t soft, so not an office worker; but not hard either; you look at him, trying to solve the enigma before you. Admiring his obviously tailored suit, he wears it with a white shirt. No tie, and you try to remember if he did before. A heavy watch wraps his left wrist, more bespoke than ostentatious, stylish and not for showing off, but more expensive than most. A small silver pin rests on his lapel and you are curious as to what it could mean, and you vaguely remember seeing it before somewhere; clearly it is very distinguished and important. You sip your drink, time seems to be unmoving at the moment, and the dark night rolls out before you in the glass, peaceful, the stars shine providing some ambient light that reflects onto deep water somewhere in the distance. “So how was your day?” he asks, in a matter of fact way, as if you have been together for a lifetime and he is greeting you as you come home. “Long” you say, releasing a sigh and this one conversation releases more stress than a lifetime of hot showers. He sits with you, genuinely interested in what you have to say, never interrupting, just listening, and providing comment at times ...