I am hypnotized by the curve of her hips as she dances, the same spot where her underwear meets skin. It seems like a great place to hide a kiss, where no one would ever find the outline of my lips printed there.
I try to exhale slowly, feeling my face grow hot at the thought. Until today, I had never seen another woman naked, and I’m shocked stiff at my intense arousal. Lola has a ballerina’s body and beautiful skin. I can’t seem to look away, instead I want to worship her, to give her everything I am and be her willing slave.
“You’re Beautiful,” I tell her, my words slightly blurred by scotch, the wonderful drink that gave Lola the courage to strip for me.
She smiles at me like she can read my thoughts, and leans in to kiss me. Her tongue is like silk, and her kiss is so passionate I lose all my other senses.
She leans toward my ear, her warm breath on the nape of my neck.
“Tell me,” she whispers.
“Can I touch you?” I ask hesitantly, but even before the words are out of my mouth she places my hands on her firm breasts. Her nipples are rock hard under my touch. She continues dancing to the music, holding my hands to her body so that they slide across her skin as she moves.
My hands slide down her chest down her stomach to her hips. I’m tempted to plant my kiss there, but I’m too afraid, and instead cup her perfect ass.
“You’re beautiful,” I say again.
“You are too,” She says. “Why don’t you dance with me?” She asks, tugging my shirt slightly, and before I can think twice, I raise my arms and oblige.