Sunday, 27 December 2015

merry christmas, gentlemen...

Her skin shone in the flickering candlelight as she lay back on the white tablecloth. I longed to touch her, to trace my fingers over the line from just beneath her breast, over her ribs, around the slender dip of her waist - to touch my lips to hers, to lay on her, our skin together, our bodies one -
She closed her eyes. Our perfumes merged, and with a small smile on her lips, she brought her arms up, over her head, letting her hands fall into the space at the end of the table. She arched her back. She was perfect – she was everything I’d ever imagined.
I picked up the jug. Ice cold double cream. I added a pinch of edible silver glitter, stirred it with my finger.
I went to the head of the table.
“Are you sure?” I asked her. “You don’t have to, you know.”
She opened her eyes and stared into mine. Then she reached, not for the double cream, but for me. She pulled me closer, slid a hand underneath my short uniform. Somewhere behind us, the sound of conversation grew closer, but she kept my gaze as she moved my panties to one side.
“You want this as much as I do,” she whispered.
“No, I –”
“You should stay,” she said, softly.
The door rattled.
“I can’t,” I said. “I’m not meant to.”
“Let us in!” Someone laughed. “Come on!”
she slid her finger between my lips, searching for my clit. I knew should go – they’d be there any second, but –
oh God, she found me.
as the door opened, the men came striding into the room, but she didn’t stop – and somehow, I didn’t move.
I heard their calls, their whistles, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from hers. I opened my legs a little further and she pressed harder, and inside me, deep inside, I felt the rush begin.
“Gentlemen,” she said, taking the jug from me with her other hand. “Merry Christmas.”
As the waves broke inside me, she poured the cream over her chest, over her beautiful breasts, and the men stepped closer.

Wednesday, 23 December 2015

something a little festive, this sunday.
double cream, anyone?
Ivy x

Sunday, 20 December 2015

picture perfect

here it is folks, a sunday morning tease...

He took my phone, and I frowned.
“Look at you,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and yet you don’t believe it.”
“Come off it!” I reached for the phone, trying to snatch it out of his hands, but he held it further away, laughing. With one hand firmly on my chest he stepped closer, pushing me back.
“Fuck you!” I yelled.
“I very much hope so,” he said, in that clean cut English accent of his that I adored.
Still holding me away, he touched my phone with his other hand, rolling his thumb over the screen. I struggled to get to it, but a flash surprised my eyes and I blinked.
He laughed, again. “See?” he said. He showed me the picture. A wild haired me was pushing myself forward, and the angle of the camera had been looking right down my top. The loose white cotton of my t-shirt had fallen away and the camera flash had caught the dark nub of my nipple behind my white lace bra.
“Give me the phone,” I said, reaching for it.
He stepped back, and took another picture.
“Take off your jeans,” he said.
“No!” I started to turn around, but he leant toward me.
“Please,” he said. “It’s your phone. You can delete the pictures after. Just look at them, first.”
“But –”
“Or you can send them to me, when I’m in the middle of an important meeting.” He raised one eyebrow. “Or send them to me, when we’re at dinner, somewhere nice. Or when I’m alone, when I’m waiting for you.”
He was rock hard, his swollen cock pushing against the expensive fabric of his suit trousers.  As I watched, he put a hand over his crotch and gripped himself, but he never took his eyes from mine.
“I could look at you forever,” he said.
He moved the phone, pointing it at me. I hesitated, but my fingers were already on my zip. Without looking up, I kicked off my shoes and slid the tight denim down my legs. The flash burst into life, twice, then three times, and as I started to straighten up again, he let out a soft moan.
I moved my shoulder, well aware, this time, of the view down my open top. His breathing quickened and I looked up, into the lens. As the light flashed, I licked my lips, and slowly brought my hands over my hips.
I stood up straight.
“Take off your shirt,” he said.
I took hold of the thin cotton, but I didn’t pull it over my head. Instead, I wrapped it around my wrist, pulling the fabric tight over my breast, knowing how it caught on my nipples, how they pushed out, under the thin fabric.
I held the t-shirt wrapped tightly around my body and with my other hand, I started to mold my breast with my fingers. I squeezed my nipples, and I watched as he took photo after photo of them. Then I turned. I slipped my feet back into my high heels and I pulled the thin t shirt up and over my head.
I looked back.
He turned the phone to show me, but I shook my head.
“No, look,” he said.  “See what I see.”
“I don’t want –” I started to say, but he pushed the camera right up to me.
I looked good.
Sure, my hair was a bit messy but I looked… I searched for the word.
Yeah, I looked real sexy.
The thin cotton caught every inch of my curves and as I gazed at the photo, I wanted to pull back the slip of lace that covered me. I wanted more.
I looked into his eyes.
“Take it again,” I said.
I turned for him and spun, slowly, letting my fingers stroke my body.
I ran my hands over my hips, over my waist, cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples –
I put my hands in my hair. I spread my legs wide. Leaning down, down, following my legs, gripping my ankles, I looked back.
I beckoned him closer, moving my ass.
I beckoned him closer still, and with one finger in the edge of my panties I began to draw them down.
I didn’t need to see the picture; I knew I was glistening wet. With my panties half way down, I reached back, tracing that one finger around my cunt.
In a quick spin I stood and turned on my heels, stepping out of my panties. I undid my bra and leaned back, knowing the arch of my waist would complement my full breasts, knowing my skin looked amazing under the flash light – knowing that as I dipped my finger inside my cunt then drew it over my thigh, over my belly, that I left a trail of honey, a tell tale show that yeah, I was there. I was so, so there.
I leaned back against the couch and crooked my finger toward him. Slowly, moving inch by inch, I opened my legs.

Ivy xx

Monday, 14 December 2015

I've found myself a little... tied up, recently. Deciding I need to introduce more discipline in my life, I've made up my mind to post a new tease every Sunday.

Join me, if you will, for something a little bit naughty, this Sunday...