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- 02/20/2017
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Dame - 13. Chapter 13
Once we’d arrived at her home I updated Dorothy on the detective’s visit and my conversation with Uncle Jimmy but left out his offer to skip town. She kept asking questions but I had other things on my mind.
”Why would the senator meet Damian all the way in Virginia?”
I slid my hands around her waist, “I’m guessing because it was private, away from prying eyes.”
“So they were having an affair?”
I pulled her in tight against me and shrugged, “Damian wasn’t particular. Still I wouldn’t have figured that out without you.”
“Can’t we tell that detective about the carriage house, about seeing Damian in the Senator’s car?” she stretched up and pressed in.
“We saw a car; got no proof it was the Senator’s car.”
“But he was there! Why do we have to prove anything? That’s their job. “
I nuzzled her neck, my lips seeking the soft skin below her ear. When she sighed, I pulled back to look down at her.
“Sweetheart, not if they can get us to do it for them. All they want is someone to confess.”
Dorothy’s lips formed a sideways grin. “Maybe you’d like me to tie you up and beat a confession out of you?”
If my jaw dropped any further it would be in my shoes. Arousal bit me hard.
“I’m sure I’d confess anything to you,” and I would have.
She stepped back and began to undress.
I can’t fully describe how Dorothy slips away into David although I have seen it happen more than once as well as in the reverse. It’s as if he emerges bit by bit like a fog dissipating to reveal what you knew was there but just couldn’t see completely. And each time I’d watched the transformation, it thrilled me. He retained those long locks and flashing green eyes but once stripped of the clothes, heels and jewelry so went the boldly feminine attitude. In many ways David was softer than Dorothy and I found myself wanting to caress him with a gentle hand.
When I grabbed his face in a fierce kiss I surprised even myself. So maybe I lied about the gentle part. He tripped over the skirt pooled at his feet when I pulled him toward the bedroom. Catching his fall, I carried him down the hallway.
Back in my apartment I had a stash of photographs I’d collected over the years - the kind of pictures few men would possess. I found I liked the more artistic impressions, black and white, unposed, men in various states of dress. Yet the ones that held the most appeal for me depicted men in women’s undergarments. Something about the contrast between the delicate lingerie and the hard muscles they encased stirred my desire.
David sat back on the bed, the embodiment of this ultimate fantasy, in a black satin corset, matching lace panties and stockings. His cock strained the fabric as if reaching out to me, beckoning for release. I loved the feeling of the nylons against his skin as I knelt before him and rolled them down. His legs were smooth, silky, the muscles rippled beneath my fingers. Each caress elicited a quiet groan of pleasure. He squirmed as I licked the arch of one foot, causing the silk panties to ride higher exposing more of his backside. His hips arched and shifted, his rear muscles contracting in a wanton pose. I finished removing the second stocking and laid the delicate material aside allowing it to slide over his arousal.
“Seth” His fingers grasped at my shoulder nudging my attentions.
I rose above him to first kiss the juncture at his groin and thigh. My thumb traced his lower lip smearing the red lipstick onto his cheek. It made him look used; made me feel possessive. This feeling drove me to kiss him hard, to possess all of him with my mouth. When I stood up he released a whimper and tried to stay my retreat which only made him appear more desperate. As I stood there watching him, he began to stroke himself through the silk.
“Seth,” I heard the need in his voice.
My own undressing took moments before I crooked a finger beckoning him to kneel before me on the edge of the bed. His hands roamed over my chest as he rubbed his erection against me. “You’re driving me crazy,” he huffed.
Again I used my thumb to smear the remains of the lipstick across his mouth. What was it about this act that made it feel like I was marking him? As mine. Our lips met, I plunged deep feeling his heat and the wet slide against his tongue.
Just as suddenly as we’d started, I withdrew and turned him around, unhooking the corset lacing, then running my hands down his naked torso feeling his stomach muscles clench as they neared his cock. My fingers slipped inside the lacy panties.
Heated flesh of hardened steel slipped into my grasp accompanied by a mewling. If his breathing was any sign, David was close to release.
“Seth, stop, stop! Not yet. I want you to...I want you in me.”
“You sure?” Something in my voice may have betrayed my hesitation as David turned around and pulled me into his arms, whispered in my ear.
“Never more sure.” He pulled back, removed the panties and laid face down on the bed.
“There’s oil in the top drawer.”
I found the bottle and placed it on the night stand. As gently as possible I turned David over to face me and slid between his legs.
“I want to see you, watch you.”
“This feels so good.” David raised his knees wrapping his legs around my waist.
He reached for the bottle; I held out my hand as he bathed my fingers. The oil felt silkily on my skin and even more so as it met the heat of his body. My fingers slipped in easily, first one then two.
David’s moaning increased with each stroke, “Seth, now, please!”
Whatever I’d imagined this moment would be like, entering David stole my senses, everything focused on that one point of contact. He was hot and tight and like nothing I’d ever felt before. When we kissed I began moving, trying to draw it out for as long as possible. The feel of his skin brushing over mine, the trace scent of perfume, the taste of desire, all threatened to pull me down.
David grasped my hand around his cock, heat building between us as our hands together stroked him with urgency. His orgasm was preceded by an arched spine and my name on repeat. I drove into him hard giving into my own release.
Later after David had fallen asleep in my arms I found myself wondering how I could make this affair last.
Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Perfection is a tough mistress as well as impossible to please.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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