“Did I snore?” I ask.

“No honey. I can’t sleep…”

I touch her face.

“Did you have a good time at the party, tonight?’

She bites her lip and touches my cheek.

“Yes, my dear. Always with you.”

“We hardly spoke to each each other. So many guests.”

“I know,” she says in a faint, heavy whisper, “I missed you all night. Did you get my messages?”

“You mean the hand across my back by the punch bowl or on the balcony, the fingers grazing across my cock?”

“Both, lover. You were particularly sexy last night.”

We kiss. It’s a moist, soft kiss.

“As were you. That little black dress is now my favorite.”

“It’s a size too small. I almost fell out of the top. And no room for panties.”

“I noticed.”

“I guess you did, you rascal. Feeling my ass while you talked basketball. Someone could’ve seen that.”

“No. I held their interest. I was pretty glib on the topic of one on one.”

“One on one, huh?”

“My favorite game. Especially with you.”

She raises up, brightened.

“Let’s get back to the topic of no underwear. When did you decide to go commando?” She asks, raising her eyebrows.

“When I watched you get dressed. I figured why should you have all the fun?”

“Well, we are going to be quite the topic amongst our dry cleaners.”

I kiss her again.

“Oh well.”

I love her voice, the richness of tone, the relaxed huskiness. It’s like gentle fingers trilling along the surface of my desire. She raises her eyebrows, then bites her lip. I know now what this is about.

She lifts her side of the covers, presenting herself.

“Look, honey…”

Her body is radiant and disheveled. One breast spills from her nightgown, catches the light. The pink nipple tight and radiant, the other breast still adorned, jiggling at the briefest of movement. Her gown is gathered on her upper thighs, the ruffles of fabric illuminated like the greek sculptures that adorned the yard of our host. Creamy folds in moonlit reverence. She breathes heavy and rubs her thighs together. She knows I love this. She knows its effect. She looks down to see if, yes, it has sneaked out. I revel in the feel of silk along my lengthening intention. I move closer. She parts her legs. That makes a sound.

“It’s talking to you, baby, It missed you. We both missed you,” she says in a whisper, as she moves to me.

My lover is comfortable in size, generous curves. Her movements are my foreplay, even when she’s standing and walking across the floor. In jeans or slacks. That night, I was riveted watching her unrestricted hips gently sway beneath her dress.

But here, in bed, her movements are flammable. Combustible.

How hot she feels against me, against my prick. I ooze a slight precursor along her belly. She wraps my prick in the silk of her gown.

“I wanted to go home as soon as I got there,” she whispered, “you could’ve taken me in that garden.”

She kisses with a slight flick of her tongue.

“You could’ve taken me on the hood of our car.”

She bites my lip. She runs her tongue across my eyelids. My cock pulsates in her hand. My breathing deepens. I take in her scent.

“You mean pull your little black dress up? Run my hands inside your thighs? Dip my fingers into you?”

“Anytime you wanted.”

She kicks the covers off us both.

“Touch me there.”

She’s hot, moist and impatient with my pseudo-reticence. She pushes my fingers in. One finger. Then two. Three. Her essence drips from her pussy onto the bed.

“My God, honey,” I say in a whisper.

“I’m going to drown you, baby,” she says moving her hips to my manipulations.

Her nightgown has slipped off her shoulders. Her breasts heave and dance. The sight of her arousal is breathtaking. Her parfum de sex fills the room. I finger fuck her, then remove my pajama bottoms. They catch on my prick. She covers a chuckle with her hand.

“Having a bit of a time are we? Entangled in our own ardor?”

I laugh and naked, I move to her, repairing the brief distance between us with my body.

“Top, baby. I want top.”

She says it in such a low, lusty whisper, I feel it through my chest. She mounts reaching back for my prick, sliding onto it, mashing her breasts into my chest. I can feel the heat of her through her nipples, as she humps slowly, her cheek to mine.

“I love how we fit together, baby, don’t you,” she says in between gasps, “can you feel me squeezing you?”

“God, yes,” I reply, immersed in our compete embrace.

She gasps and lurches.

“I wanted you all night long. Your hand on my bare ass drove me crazy.”

She moves like a passionate tide above me, her breasts swinging, until she fills the room with gasps and shouts, wrapping her arms around my neck, clenching my, holding me deep as she comes.

My darling holds me, her fingers grip my shoulders. Her hair is in ringlets, her gown matted in sweat and satiation. She turns her knees out. Her feet rub the insides of my legs.

“You’re magnificent,” I say to her as I feel the last of my passion drain.

“I love making love to you darling,” she says, “but now…”

She rises from me and on her knees, removes the last of her dampened garment. I watch as the last of her gown is pushed from the bed, the bedclothes, off the mattress. The moonlight brightens as if the moon, wide-eyed, is watching in astonishment. She is naked on her knees, giving me a show. Running her hands through her hair and caressing her breasts. Her lovely brown tuft is matted with passion. I hungrily watch her undulate. She watches my cock, and as it bops and rises.

“There it is. There’s my hot fuck toy.” She moves to me and takes it to her lips. I shake with ecstasy as she plunges, cupping my balls with her hands. She works me to rigidity, then moves to her back, drawing her knees up slowly. A move that ignites me time and time again. I move between my lover’s legs, and run my shaft along her slit.

“Take me home, lover,” she says, “fuck me…”

I mount my goddess and plunge deep. She wraps her legs around my waist, and we move as one.

She urges me to the brightest light of passion. Sensing the horizon, she grabs my ass and shimmies hard, propelling herself into bliss.

The calm after our vigorous collision surrounds us. We sigh to each other, wearing silly grins. All around us, discarded linens and garments. Our breathing is one breath. The moon, sated, passes by our window. The room is dark.

“We must attend more parties, my love,” she says.

The ticking of the clock returns as the only sound. We sleep as the clock’s hands sweep to three-fifty one, a.m.

That was always when she woke up.

Images of the dream stayed with her as she showered. She could feel the trail of kisses he’d left on her neck and shoulders. As she dried herself, the roughness of the towel reminded her how soft his touch had been.
Only vestiges of the dream were with her as she walked through the doors of her office building – only to see Ryan in the lobby waiting to catch the next elevator. They’d never met but she’d seen him occasionally around the office. She liked the look of strength in his hands; his well-muscled body wasn’t hidden by the tailored business suit.
He looked up from his paper when she approached, giving her the full force of those amazing blue eyes. Did she see a trace of interest? Did he look at her just a bit longer than necessary before turning back to his paper? (”Don’t be an idiot,” she told herself. “It’s only a dream.”)
Later that afternoon Ryan knocked on her office door. “I thought you were the one from the elevator, but I wasn’t sure. Bob told me to get some numbers from you for the Sumner case I’m working on.” He stepped forward, holding out his hand. “I’m Ryan. Ryan Stokes.”
Katie Howard. I’ve seen you around, too, but didn’t know where you worked. Nice to meet you, Ryan.” (”Easy girl! All in the line of duty!”)
She went to her file cabinet to get Ryan the information he needed, glad she’d worn an outfit she knew looked good. The cut of her blouse flattered her, accentuating her fullness of her breasts without being too over the top. She really hoped he’d notice. The conversation drifted away from business after she briefed him on the numbers. They talked for a few minutes about nothing: the weather, sports (”Thank you Dad for being a football fan”), a new exhibit at the art museum. Katie was stunned – and thrilled – to hear him say, “I was invited to a fundraiser at the museum Friday night. It would be a great time to see the exhibit. Would you like to join me?”

The following Monday, Ryan smiled at her as he walked by her office – on his way to some meeting, no doubt. On his way back a while later he stopped and looked in. “Hey there. I really enjoyed our date Friday,” he said with a smile that made his blue eyes twinkle. “Glad to see you found all your clothes.”