You lean to me and again speak softly the words that began the slow down to the passionate high.
“Can I?”
You lean into me placing your cock at the slit of my pussy, slipping between my lips, gliding in my juices and then with one solid thrust I feel you inside me, all consuming, unresisting, completely inflamed with desire. We remain quiet, unmoving for what seems forever, but is mere moments. Then I link my legs around yours crushing into you, sucking you in deeper and you begin thrusting. I hear your groans as the sensation intensifies. I feel you bulging inside my pussy as you massage that perfect zone and I tumble over the edge. You thrust harder and faster reaching the crucial peak before orgasmic spasms prevail, shaking your body to its core.
We slump together in a cuddled mess of peaceful untidiness, both satiated in our desire. I am mystified by the suggestive question that kindled my desire so intensely— “Can I?”
PASSIONATE SCREW
1-3/4 ounce Silver Rum
2 ounces Orange Juice
1-1/2 ounce Passion Fruit Juice
1 dash Orange Bitters Orange Slice
Place ice in a tall
glass. Add all liquid
ingredients in the order given.
Stir briefly with barspoon, stir stick,
or straw. Garnish with an orange slice.
Passionate Screw could be the best Screwdriver you ever had, only better. This one takes a little more effort than the average orange juice and vodka drink. Then again a little extra exertion is worth the enjoyment, isn’t it? The Passionate Screw is lightly sweet, refreshing and will have you dreaming of summer vacation, sunny beaches, and anticipating your next rendezvous with a Passionate Screw.
SWEET SPOT
1/2 ounce Premium Orange Liqueur
1/2 ounce Hazelnut Liqueur
1/2 ounce Coffee Liqueur
1-1/2 ounce Half & Half
Espresso Powder or Cocoa Powder
Place all liquids in
a cocktail shaker filled
two-thirds full of ice. Shake to
blend ingredients. Strain into rocks glass
over fresh ice. Garnish with light dusting of espresso
powder or cocoa powder according to preference.
Hit a home run by hitting the Sweet Spot. This lightly sweet on-the-rocks drink is nicely balanced with subtle orange and coffee flavors.
THE BRAZILIAN
I was nervous going in. The idea of pain associated with baring it all did not bother me half as much as the thought that I might get inappropriately wet and drippy once another woman started fiddling with my nether region. I was early. The salon was just opening. Most of the stylists were still arriving, readying their stations for the day ahead. Looking around I noticed Gina’s door was closed. There must be some other poor girl having her nether region spread and plucked bare. Ouch!
Gina has a room all to herself for her waxing expertise. It is a small room containing a single bed with a vibrating mat covered with comfy cushions and pillow. The most important feature of the entire room is a tiny detail—the door lock. You see, I have been naked in this room before, but only for facials and massages. It is always much more relaxing knowing Gina and I will be undisturbed when we are behind closed doors.
I half expected Gina to emerge from her room with another happy client, but she did not. She was running late. When I looked up from the magazine I was thumbing through nervously, Gina appeared with coffee in one hand and a bag thrown over her shoulder. She gestured in half exasperation for making me wait. Her presence and theatricality put me at ease immediately.
“It just might be too early to hurt you this morning, but I’ll give it a shot since it’s what I love to do,” she said with a wink. “Be back in a minute.”
She grinned and hurried off to her private sanctuary to ready the room. I shook my head with a half laugh thinking of your comment to me the night before when I told you I was coming in for a wax this morning. Your words echoed in my head.
“Be sure to tell her the best way to check for smoothness is with her tongue,” you’d said.
Trust me. I was paying attention to her tongue as she spoke and then did that little lick she does to wet her lips. I also noticed how hot and fresh she looked this morning. She was in tip-top gym shape, not a body builder, but in kick-your-ass shape. Gina had dark spikey hair, dark makeup—but not quite gothic—a vibrant smile, and a wicked grin. One of those women you’re not quite sure if she’s kidding or not, but you hope she’s not and you hope she’s on your side of friendly. She is petite and pure fireball. Gina appears to have done everything and tried anything she may have missed in between. Today she had on cute denim jeans with a matching denim jacket pulled in at the waist to accentuate her figure.
Gina pokes her head around the corner to tell me to come on back. I walk in with a little apprehension. She scurries around the room flipping a clean sheet on the bed and turning up the heat on the wax pots. She does not take time to remove her jacket. Plopping two hand towels on the bed, she tells me to take my clothes off and to hop on up there. Then she leaves the room.
Leave it to Gina to be so matter-of-fact. I think that those two tiny towels are not going to cover much. I oblige anyway, slipping off my mini skirt, thong, and slip-on shoes. It’s a little chilly, so I leave on my tank top. I was already worried that I would get all drippy with Gina messing with my pleasure zone; the last thing I wanted was to add cold, erect nipples to the equation. I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of deviant who enjoyed pain, even though she had already admitted her proclivity to activities that involved it.
I sit on the bed and wait for Gina. Once she returns, she makes special mention of locking the door for privacy. She gets herself comfortable by slipping out of her denim jacket, revealing an eye-catching midriff top. She comments about a scratch her cat left on her tummy, so I let her know I noticed the scratch and the amazing abs the scratch seemed to somehow exaggerate.
“I want those,” I said, gesturing toward her fabulous tummy. “God, I would love twenty-four-year-old abs again.”
Gina laughs and says she works on them. “I’m not twenty-four, though, but you get an extra treat for being so kind and guessing me younger.”
She hangs up her jacket and turns her attention toward me, rubbing her hands together as if she is plotting something special.
“Let’s have a look,” she says and flings the small towel aside without a moment’s hesitation.
I guess that towel wasn’t meant for covering at all. I am still thinking about her abs and how great she looks from any angle. Maybe I was trying to take my mind off the fact that she has already moved one of my legs aside, bending my knee to get a better look at what was between my legs. I’ve never shied away from a man or a woman peeking between my legs, but I knew Gina had a wax pot heating and would be dripping it directly on my pussy very soon.
“You look pretty good yourself,” Gina mentions, surprising me.
I can’t keep from cracking up. “Considering the angle you are looking at me from, that is pretty funny,” I said.
She steps back, laughing, and proclaims, “Yes, your crotch is the most beautiful I’ve seen, and I’ve seen a lot.” Her eyebrows arch and her smile flashes that wickedly seductive tongue again.
That did it. I was at complete ease and the banter had begun.
“What are we doing today? Landing strip? Hitler? Bare?”
To tell the truth, even with all the cutesy names for what a wax job ends up looking like, waxing isn’t all that seductive or sexy for that matter. It is messy and it hurts. It hurts like hell. There may be two girls in a room with one being naked and the other dripping hot wax on her, but ultimately that hot wax gets cold once it hits bare flesh and it has to be ripped off. That part isn’t too pleasant.
So when it came right down to it, I ask Gina if the room is sound proof. It isn’t. She asks that I try to keep from yelling mother fucker when she rips a sheet of wax off so
as not to offend any older ladies getting their weekly hair done outside the door, which makes me giggle a little. If they only knew what we were doing in here their hair may gray a little more.
But the closest I come to dropping the bomb is a whopping “SHIT!” when she takes me by surprise in my most sensitive of areas. Oh, and the time she nips my clit with her tweezers by accident. I think I should receive a boo boo kiss for that one, but I am too afraid to ask. Knowing Gina, she may like it so much, she will pinch me again for the sheer delight of kissing me again on my beautiful pussy. Hmm, that might not be such a bad thing. I should have thought that through.
We talk about how sexy guys think waxing is, and the time some girl’s boyfriend wanted to come in and watch after he saw what Gina looked like. We, of course, also talk about sex. It always comes up. Who don’t I have a discussion about sex with? And for the record, Gina really does get off on inflicting pain. I think she enjoys it more than she lets on, which is a little sexy in itself if it isn’t really hurting anyone.
Once the hard part is finished, Gina says it is time for some cool down. What do I know? This is my first wax. Up until now, I was cringing from the ride. So far the only thing keeping me on that bed was Gina keeping her hands on me. I could only imagine what was next. She squirts an ample amount of oil on her gloved hands. Then again, maybe I couldn’t imagine what came next.
“This isn’t really kinky,” she says with a wicked grin and another wink. The sparks of vigor in her eye tell me her deepest, darkest erotic persona may well scare the hell out of me…or bring great pleasure.
Then she does something rather unexpected. She palms my mound and started rubbing me all over while she looks me directly in the eye, continuing our ongoing sex talk. I must admit to having been very distracted. This is not a passing second or two of oiling up. Her fingers glide between my lips, slowly soothing my abused pussy to the point I’m not sure if the slickness was oil or my own aroused juices. Then she turns her attention to the sensitive region all along the groove between my cheeks. Wow! This is real service. Or maybe this is the special treat she said I deserved earlier. Whatever it is, it isn’t bad at all. It is fabulous. The best part—she isn’t finished. After rolling her oiled fingers and palm all over my pleasure zones she polishes me off with another soothing gel. Just when I think we’re done, she brings out more.
“I bought a new wand,” she said. “I’m going to zap you.”
Gina holds the device in her hand with an end that looks almost like a little suction cup. She is right. She is zapping me. Everywhere, and I do mean everywhere, she waxed me she zaps me with a tiny electric current. Tiny little currents zap my sensitive, exposed flesh. The little prickles are less about pain and more about sensory overload. It is the kind of feeling you get with a sneeze and the goose bumps ripple all over the body at once. That pleasurable pain that swells so quickly that it is impossible to distinguish between pleasure and pain. I opt on the side of pleasure.
We finish. So soon? Who knew the brief satisfaction of clean up could erase the memory of any pain inflicted? I think Gina and I both got something we wanted that morning. She sets up an appointment for the next morning for a quick touchup to make sure we didn’t miss anything since it was my first time.
Morning comes, but not soon enough. The silky smoothness of my newly plucked mound is wonderful. I want so badly to touch and fondle it myself, but decide to leave the first pleasure of bare all for you.
Gina scheduled time for my touch up. She said for first timers, and especially blondes, there were always strays that she missed and she insisted on cleaning up her work. I am not sure if that was just a line to get me back in so soon or not. But, after the full service treatment I received the previous day I was all too eager to get right back in her little room behind a locked door. I meet her bright-eyed and no longer bushy-tailed.
Again I find myself stripped to nothing except a tank top on her vibrating bed with a mere hand towel covering my now not so private region.
“How does it feel?” Gina asks right off the bat.
“Excellent!” I reply.
“Your boyfriend is coming into town tonight, right?” She asks as she begins looking over her masterpiece. She pulls out a huge lighted magnifying glass and takes as close a look as any woman has ever dared.
“It doesn’t look like there is much touch up to be done. You can have sex tonight. Congratulations!” Gina looks at me, flashing the same wicked grin from the day before.
My overwhelming urge at the moment is to reach my fingers up through Gina’s thick, jet black hair and pull her closer to my recently bare pussy lips and beg her to lick away. The previous night had been torture enough wanting to touch myself and not doing so.
“No such luck. We will have to wait through the weekend. There is never a dull moment with family around.” It was a reunion-type weekend and we would be inundated with family swirling about with no time to ourselves.
“That’s too bad,” she commiserates. “There’s nothing like a fresh wax job and sex to celebrate it.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I laugh with frustration setting in. “Sex was all I thought about last night.”
Yesterday I worried about coming in and getting all drippy with Gina slipping her fingers all around my pleasure zones. Today I find myself wishing she would. This is torture, but not the kind of torture most women find themselves in when they are on a wax bed.
The next several minutes are quiet with Gina plucking with her trusty tweezers. “Looks like that will do it,” she says, setting the evil tweezers aside. Her eyes glint and sparkle. “I do believe I owe you a treat from yesterday.”
Heck, I thought I’d received plenty of treat yesterday when she finished me. I was confused for sure. The look of puzzlement must have shown on my face.
“I still need to check you for smoothness. You did say your boyfriend said the best way to check for that was with the tongue, correct?”
She eyes me with a sly grin and glossy lips slightly parted as she waits for the look of surprise to melt from my face.
“May I?” She asks as her head slowly moved closer to my newly tweaked mound. “I wouldn’t want your boyfriend to think I didn’t do a thorough job.”
Gina certainly was a mischievous sort of girl.
There we were with the door locked behind us and me propped up on a vibrating bed, naked from the waist down and my thighs spread wide. This was not the sort of proposition you would want me to refuse, I know. You were all too eager to hear all the details from the day before.
I reach up and run my fingers through Gina’s hair and flash the same wicked smile I watched pass her lips in the past two days.
“Be my guest,” I utter. Gina does not hesitate.
She dips her head and ever so lightly dances her pointed tongue tip back and forth over the spot that just yesterday lay beneath a thin pad of downy fur. I lean back with my fingers still playing in her hair, putting all my energy into feeling the tickling ripples she performs with her expert tongue. Her warm, wet tongue gives me chills as the wetness turns cool against my skin.
Just yesterday I felt Gina’s fingers slide between my smoothed lips. This time they hold back the folds so she can slip the tip of her tongue along my slit. The roughness of her taste buds gliding against the silk of my lips causes a quiver through my pussy. Her tongue moves methodically from top to bottom, circling and probing my glossed silken flesh testing and tasting for the ultimate smoothness. Her free hand slides along my inner thigh, pushing my leg outward, opening me up to the fullest as her tongue proceeds along my path of pleasure.
It was then I couldn’t keep from feeling my newfound smoothness with my own fingertips. One hand still loosely guides Gina’s head as she alternately sips and laps at my wetness. The other skims my exposed tummy to the valley below my navel before reaching the bare mound and descending the slick slope dripping with the juices usually reserved for you. My fingers tangle with Gina’
s as she still holds my lips open in a “V” with pointer and ring finger and strokes my clit expertly with her middle finger. I feel myself gushing with every stroke while imagining you in the room watching us, growing hard, bulging beneath the zipper of your jeans.
Before long, Gina’s lips envelop my swollen clit, sucking lightly while fingering me in a circular motion. I ache to feel your thickness swell within me. She looks up at me with a furrowed brow and wicked grin, never stopping the meticulous flicking of her tongue. She sucks long and hard, yet with such tenderness. I know she is about to send me over the edge.
Gina takes my hand and sucks the wetness from each finger. Then she wraps her fingers around my wrist and holds it to the bed. While still holding my nether lips open, she tightens the tip of her tongue to a point and begins to firmly tickle my clit long and hard. She slips her thumb inside me.
My concentration shatters. Sensory overload sets in with a flood of delightful ripples, throbs, and pulses from the center of my clit to the very tips of all my nerves. I try to catch my breath, but it escapes me as my body convulses of its own volition.
“You’re definitely smooth,” Gina offers, coming up for air. “Let me know if your boyfriend approves. Tell him I challenge him to find a single rough spot. I certainly didn’t.”
She smiles and licks her lips. Then, she picks up a hand towel and wipes her hands. Throwing it aside, she picks up her appointment book and pencil.
“So, when do you want to come back?” she inquires, cocking her head while waiting for an answer.
There is something about this girl. She is so sexy in her candor.
I am sufficiently relaxed for the day and can now look forward to the long weekend of being with you even if the omnipresence of family prohibits any sensual gratification. I know I have a secret to tell you that you will thoroughly enjoy.
Cocktails With a Tryst: An Affair With Mixology and Seduction Page 3
