On the Rim of a Fantasy - Sex Stories

On the Rim of a Fantasy

The moment was upon them… The hotel suite had been arranged, the details discussed at length, and now they were finally in each other’s company. Glasses of a delicate Chardonnay, now partly consumed, sat on the table between them, reflecting the soft light of the late summer afternoon. They had chatted, of course, voices tight and a little fragile, but mutual knowledge of what was about to happen had made the air thick and heavy with nervous anticipation. It was time… He drained all but the last mouthful of wine from his glass and stood up. ‘Would you mind if I quickly slipped into my robe?’ he asked. She started to rise herself. ‘Shall I…’ He interrupted her, motioning her back to her chair. ‘Please, finish your wine,’ he said. ‘I just like to change first. I am really looking forward to watching you undress for the first time and I don’t want the distraction of fumbling with my own clothes.’ ‘Oh, yes, I see…’ she replied shyly. He noticed, with a little rush or pleasure, that she was blushing slightly. He nodded and left for the bathroom. A few minutes later he emerged, now wearing a short, dark blue bathrobe. The tie was knotted loosely and he held the front closed with one hand flat across his stomach. He looked at her from across the room and she knew he was ready. She finished her wine and arose. ‘After you,’ she said. As soon as she followed him into the separate bedroom, she saw immediately that there was a low, padded bench at the foot of the plush covered bed. It ...

... was about knee height with ornate, polished wooden legs. ‘Oh my,’ she said. ‘That’s just like in… in your fantasy.’ ‘I know,’ he replied proudly. His smile was almost the grin of a mischievous schoolboy. ‘That’s why I chose his hotel.’ He sat down on the bed, just to the side of the bench and sat there, hands folded, almost primly, in his lap. There was a silence between them for nearly a full minute as he looked at her expectantly, and then, understanding how important this art of the proceeding was to him, she began to undress. She was simply, almost conservatively attired in a light cotton blouse and a knee length skirt with an uncomplicated floral pattern. She began with the top button of her blouse and then slowly undid the rest, pausing for the briefest moment between each one. There was nothing vampy, or exaggerated, about her manner, just a simple feminine grace that made each movement deliciously sexy and exciting. She twisted slightly as the blouse fell open, a gesture signaling a brief shyness perhaps, but when she slid it all the way off her shoulders she turned to face him once more. Her breasts were small but beautifully formed, capped with puffy, conical nipples of a deep honey-colored hue. Their eyes were locked when she turned to him but then his eyes dropped to her bosom and, almost immediately, his expression of expectancy dissolved into a blank, nearly open-mouthed gaze of simple wonder. She liked the sensation of being enjoyed this way and his excitement at ...