Gloved

glove

She slipped the glove slowly up her arm. It came to rest between her elbow and shoulder. She admired herself in the mirror, her hands running over the curves of her waist, the round of her breasts, the smoothness of her bare mound. The satin felt glorious against her skin.

She turned to him, the fleck of grey in his eyes matching the silver in his hair. He couldn’t take his eyes of her nubile naked flesh, her creamy breasts bouncing with each step she took as she teetered upon her heels. His voice was low and steady as he spoke.

“Come over here, Annette, and stop your parading about,” he commanded. She immediately obeyed him and quickly presented herself for inspection. His eyes explored her body; the ivory lace of her suspenders, the sheen of her stockings glowing in the half light of the room. Her sandy blonde hair framing her face, her blue eyes big with curiosity. Her lips were parted in a half-smile. She knew how beautiful she looked; it was part of her youthful exuberance.

“Take your heels off and climb onto the bed.” She did as he asked, and kneeling, waited for further instruction.

“Now touch yourself. Feel the satin against your bare flesh, run your hands over your skin and feel how the material feels against your own softness.” His rich voice alone sent shivers through her. She continued to obey him and ran her hands over the back of her neck, down past her shoulders and onto each pert breast. She pinched at her nipples through each glove, her own peaks forming and growing in hardness underneath her touch. She threw her head back and moaned as she strummed her own flesh for him, his eyes never leaving her.

“Good girl, good girl,” he praised, aware that his own hardness was begging for attention at the sight of her playing on the bed. He unbuckled his pants and let them slip to the floor, his erection bobbing free as her hands wandered in between her thighs to her waiting cunt.

“Touch yourself, that’s right. Touch yourself. Feel the glove graze against your pouting lips, your engorged clitoris, wetness coating each finger, spilling from you. Touch that beautiful pussy of yours,” he beckoned while he stroked his cock. The look in her face was urgent, maddening. He knew how much she loved to watch, how much she needed it. He picked up his pace, his large hand caressing his smooth shaft over, and over, and over again while she bucked on the bed. He could tell she was close to the edge; she was steadying herself with one hand, the other frantically rubbing at her swollen flesh. She whimpered as she continued to watch him pleasure himself, his cockhead already glistening with pre-cum. He stood and made his way to the bed.

“Tell me. Do you want my cock in you yet?” She nodded enthusiastically, biting on her bottom lip, his hard flesh merely inches from her mouth as she continued to fuck herself.

“Show me how much, Annette,” he cooed, his hands smoothing over her hair as her tongue darted out to meet his shaft. Her mouth felt exquisite against his warm erection, swirling and dipping over the tip of his cock, slipping him past her lips and to the back of her throat. He grabbed fistfuls of her hair and slowly started to fuck her, her breasts swaying with each thrust, her bullet hard nipples rubbing against the soft sheets. She was breathtaking to behold as she sucked cock eagerly, summoning his orgasm to the surface with ease. He withdrew from her, the sensation becoming too much too quickly. He wanted more.

He walked to the other side of the bed and positioned himself behind her, his bare cock nuzzling against her. She was drenched, her juices coating the fingertips of the glove. She continued to masturbate, grunting as he slipped himself between each arse cheek. She wriggled and writhed like a cat on heat, presenting her flesh for the taking with each of his teasing thrusts. It was only seconds before she was pleading with him.

“Please fuck me. Please fuck me and make me come. I want to feel you explode inside of me.”

It was at that moment he pushed into the depths of her, her scream of pleasure immediately bursting into the air. He used his full length to bring her to orgasm, each thrust forward sending waves of pleasure pulsing through her, her velvet heat clenching down around him. She reached underneath and rubbed his balls with her gloved hand as she came, the material damp and smooth against his heavy testes. That was enough to send him over the edge along with her, his cock shuddering, rivulets of his come erupting inside of her. It took a good few minutes for both of them to recover on the bed. He finally broke the silence.

“That will teach you to play dress up in front of me…”

22 Responses to “Gloved”

  1. *grins* Nope, just means I’ll play dress up again and again in front of you!

  2. You had me writhing, involuntarily.

    Also, that may be the nicest, um, photo, I’ve ever seen šŸ˜‰

  3. road runner Says:

    If your post had been any longer I would have expired … i forgot to breathe after the first line …. talk about the ‘petite mort’ … almost literally !!!

    BRILLIANT

    šŸ™‚

    RR x

  4. Inspirational.

    -eb

  5. Dripping with decadence. Another wonderful piece, mademoiselle…

    ~EA

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