I walked into the restaurant for breakfast and headed for my usual table only to find it taken, so I took the table next to it. I sat down, unfurled the table cloth and was going to place it on my thighs when a movement caught my attention.
I looked up to see a quickly averted face. She was dressed in black. Black slacks, black button down blouse, black bracelet on her right wrist, black and brown wooden beads around her slender neck, black weave framing an oval face, long black arched brows lining eyes so dark they looked like black pools, the only not-black things on her were the gold ballerina shoes and her bronzed skin. The overall effect was mesmerising.
She looked up and our eyes met and, in that instant I knew I was getting me some of that.
Breakfast was a charged affair. We exchanged smouldering looks, and the air around seemed to crackle. After a few nibbles and a sip or two, without any word between us, we both got up from our tables in perfect synch and made a beeline for the door and the bank of elevators across the hall. Waiting for the elevator I said “Hi,” and when the doors opened she brushed the back of her hand against my thigh as she went in.
I let her push the button and, although we stood at either end of the elevator, we stayed connected through the mirror – our eyes were locked.
I was a few steps behind her as she walked to her room, and got my slipper clad foot in enough to keep the door from slamming shut.
“What do..” She never finished as I took her questioning figure in my arms and kissed her. Her lips tasted of strawberry, her breath coffee. She kissed back, pressing soft lips against mine. Our tongues touched and a million light bulbs exploded in my brain. I moved forward and she back tracked. Further into the room we went, shedding clothes as we did, not breaking the embrace. There was mercifully little to shed – she kept her beads and bracelet on. Then we were on the bed.
Her feet touched the floor and her arms reached for the headboard as I blazed a trail of kisses down her jawline, past her neck to the beginnings of her twin mounds. I went around the left breast, holding her hands up above her head, then I traced the outline of her areola and felt her nipple harden. I moved on to the next and repeated the action before taking the nipple of the right breast in my mouth; a moan escaped her lips and it was music to my ears.
I paid both breasts almost equal attention before continuing down her ribs to her navel and then I stopped.
I let her touch me then, she dug her fingers into my hair and kissed me. Teasing, sucking, nibbling and nipping.
I pulled her up the bed and turned her onto her stomach, straddled her and traced my fingers very lightly down her back and spine to the rise of her buttocks. I continued this till I felt her start to shiver, then I leaned over and blew warm breaths down her back. The goose bumps on her arms and back combined with her almost uncontrollable shivering were the rewards of my attention. I pressed against her buttocks and she bucked, a moan reached my ears. She was ready.
I flipped her on her back and kissed her deeply. Again I made my way South, this time I did not stop till I reached her thighs. I ran my fingers lightly in circles on her inner thighs making her moan and sigh, she parted her legs wider, shivering and shuddering, and when I saw her centre glisten, I leaned in.
I blew soft warm breaths against her, feeling her gently open up like the petals of a flower, then a quick sharp intake of my breath through my mouth. The cool breath caused her to harden, again she moaned, and than I dived. I encircled with my mouth, flicked and sucked, plunged lower, flicked and sucked until she was quivering all over. She was bucking and thrashing and then I stopped again leaving her in exquisite mix of pleasure and torture.
I raised myself till I was level with her and then I let her guide me in. No rushed thrust, just a gentle lowering until I was completely buried in her warm embrace. She gasped, her head thrashing from side to side as we ground against each other. Her nails raked my back and I thought I was going to scream out. The blood pounded in my ears but I held on.
Then I was on my back and she was straddling me. She started slowly, increasing the tempo as she went, then she was gyrating, moving in a circular motion. I bit my lip and held her waist, slowly raising her until there was just a third of me in her, I held her there and she clenched against me. Each time she did, I felt the tremors go up and down her thighs until she started to quake and buck. I thought my head was going to explode, my heart and lungs were shot to pieces. I let her drop then, thrusting deep into her, she arched backwards and I put my thumb between us, touching her; and I knew at that moment why they called this the little death!
“Voullez vous du thé ou du café, Monsieur Franque? Would you like some tea or coffee?” Fatim, the waitress asked, hovering over my table.
“Non, merci.” I answered. At that point, the lady dabbed her mouth with a napkin and I saw another not-black item on her person: twin gold bands encircling the fourth finger of her left hand.
I got up to get a glass of mango juice, and changed my table too. As I walked past her table she looked up at me and I can almost swear we shared a look before her eyes travelled down to her rings, but regardless of what it may or may not have held, I knew I was not getting me any of that – and quite frankly, I had lost my appetite by that time.