Wife's Surprise

In a corner in the room he enters -expecting to see his wife- sits a lady. Slightly shocked he hesitates a moment in the door, his hand still on the handle and takes in the sight.

Her pushed up high breasts nearly fall out of a black corset, trimmed and laced with red satin. Her hair is a mass of bright shiny black with a reddish glow. Shiny sheer black stockings are attached by sparkling clips to the corset. The bands are partly hidden by the black lace of what seem to be French panties. Slender feet in black, quite high-heeled pumps. A black mask follows the contours of her face, not really hiding it, but changing her into a known-unknown person.

His wife promised him a surprise -to do with whatever he wanted to- if he would go to the address she gave him. He checks his mind, suddenly doubting if he really is at the address she gave him. Street is the right one; number too. The apartment, the code she told him, did open this door. He is where she wants him to be. He closes the door behind him, turns around to savor the sight once again. Luscious, is the thought prevailing in his brain.

The lady in the chair holds up her hand, presents him an envelope.

He hesitates, ignores her willingly and looks around him, into the darker corners of the room. A bed. Big, spread with a black sheet, glowing softly in the shadowy light. Numerous black and white cushions. Fluffy ones, hard ones, small ones, big ones. A black leather sofa, also adorned with several of the same cushions. A small club table, some burning candles on it. A lighted candle on each bedside-table, a big candle stands beside the tempting figure on the floor.

That is all. A door. Slightly ajar. He scrutinizes, sees some white tiling, decides it is the bathroom. A thought forms in his mind.

"Just a moment, please," he tells the silent form in the chair and walks over to the bathroom. It is empty. His wife isn't there. He washes his hands, dries them on a soft burgundy red towel.

Purposeful he walks over to the lady and takes the envelope out of her hand, his eyes wandering over the mounds of her breasts. A moment he turns the envelope around in his hands, glances down, no letters on it. His eyes lock on her mounds again, a slight smile appears on his face and he tucks the envelope in the inner pocket of his coat. The lady tenses as he does this. Her whole posture, before so confident and radiating lust, now is one of almost distress. She hasn't changed her stance, her legs are still crossed at the ankles, her one hand still rests on her thigh where she laid it down after he took the envelope; her other arm is draped alongside her body, the hand still rests on the cushioned armrest. Her head leans against the high backrest as before. A royal pose.

But now all her muscles are tense. Her glistening eyes disappear for a moment as she closes them. The mask is complete now. Nothing of her features is visible until her open eyes will bring her face alive again. His smile deepens, changes into a slight grin. He steps a bit closer to her, his feet almost touching hers.

Her muscles tense even more when he reaches down with his hand. His fingers hover over the skin of her breasts. With a sly smile he touches a spot on her right breast. Only a second before his fingers stroke over the swelling mound, caressing it. It was enough for her to relax completely though. A smile appears around her mouth and she opens her eyes and lips. At once he puts a finger on her mouth.

He steps away from her, takes off his coat and walks over to an empty coat stand. He feels her eyes following his movements. A moment he wonders where her clothes are; she wouldn't have arrived dressed like this without at least wearing a long overcoat. After he has hung his coat on the stand, he opens his suit coat and loosens his tie. His eyes locked on hers, he takes his coat off, opens his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves after he put the coat on a hanger on the stand.

Confident paces bring him in front of the sofa half opposite her chair. In sitting down, he takes his tie off and plays with it. The silk glides through his fingers as he rolls it. Hiding a gleeful smirk he notes her eyes are locked on his fingers and the tie. He props a cushion behind his back, moves his back smoothly farther down on the sofa until he has found a comfortable position. A position he knows will show her what has happened beneath the fabric covering his loins.

Leisurely he beckons her over. She gasps audible before she gracefully rises to her feet. A few steps -the soft taps of her heels on the parquet the only sounds- place her beside him. She moves to sit down, and freezes as he shakes his head once. His legs were spread already, now he places his feet a bit farther apart and bends his head slightly, his eyes wandering to the space between his thighs and back to her face. Again she takes a deep breath. Carefully she steps around his leg, over his foot. Her eyes locked on his, she slowly kneels down.

Gently his hand lands on her hair, caresses the top of her head before he directs it to where he wants it. Following his lead she bows her head over his loins, lays her cheek against the bulge in his trousers.

A long moment nothing occurs. Both take tranquil deep breaths, contented with what has happened until now. Slowly he leans his head against the backrest and closes his eyes. She rubs her cheek over the bulge.

"Yes," he says in a deep voice. She startles a moment, pulls her cheek away from his bulge after that. His eyes wander over the mask she wears. An intricate pattern of lace and satin covers her face, only leaving her eyes and mouth free. His fingers wander from the back of her head onto the mask, caress it as if it were her skin. A soft purring noise escapes her lips; he doesn't know if it because he caresses her, or because her fingers caress his bulge. Both, he decides. The material of the mask is stiff and hard under his fingers even if it fits her perfectly. She opens his fly while his fingers return to the back of her head. Probing he tugs at the satin band which keeps the mask to her face. She freezes and a slight shake of her head tells him not to continue.

A pensive expression appears on his face as he ponders if maybe that was something written in the letter now unread in his pocket. He wants to see her face though. His face lightens, not only because she has opened his trousers completely now, even his belt is undone, but also because he had thought of a possibility to see her without her being unmasked. Enjoying her fingers stroking his cock over his boxers he ponders the idea that just started to form in his mind. Slowly he reaches beside him and retrieves his tie. His other hand takes her right and places it behind her head on the satin bow. He takes her other hand and places it on the mask. Making sure she is looking at his hands he unrolls his tie and plays with it close before her eyes, playing hide and seek with them. After a few moments the slightest of nods tells him she understood and is willing.

He lays the tie before her eyes, holds it loosely in place with his left hand behind her head, while the fingers of his right caress the wrist of her hand before he places one end of the satin band between her fingers. Carefully he pulls at her hand. Slowly one eye of the bow gets smaller, until it disappears and the knot under it is pulled open. He now places her hand on his thigh. Her breath has hastened he notes satisfied. He lays his hand on the hand with which she holds the mask. Teeth softly biting her lower lip she slips her thumb under the material of the mask and pulls it away from her face ever so gently. Like an offering she lays her hand and the upturned mask on his other thigh.

The triumphant smile on his face is already hidden for her eyes as he knots his tie behind her head. Anew he leans back on the sofa, pulling her face against his bulge with one hand. Gently his hand rests on her hair as he takes the mask from her hand and holds it in front of his face a moment before he puts it on the sofa beside him.

"Now," he says softly. Gently her hands move over his thighs, caressing him, and tantalizing slowly they reach his boxers' waistband. He takes a deep breath as she shoves her fingertips under the fabric thereby touching the throbbing head before she slowly pulls his boxers down over his cock, only millimeters from her face. A shiver runs down his spine as he feels her breath on his pulsing cock and her fingers slipping between his legs until they cup his balls.

Softly his hand pulls her closer until her lips touch the shaft. A soft sigh escapes her mouth and her warm breath causes a new shiver to run down his spine. A moment she only rests her lips against his hot skin. He strokes her hair. Her soft lips move into a kiss-mouth, slowly she increases the pressure with which they rest against his hard shaft. Lost in the moment he feels it harden even more. As slowly as before, she releases the pressure as her lips soften again. His turn to increase pressure now, he decides, and presses his hand against her hair until he feels her skin under his fingers. Obediently she forms a kiss-mouth again.

A long moment she rests her mouth on his cock in a kissing posture, her warm, hasty breath caressing his skin. Encouraging her he moves his fingertips up and down on her head. Responding his gesture she moves her lips over his shaft. Only millimeters she moves them up and down, the sensation it stirs though, turns his breathing in a soft groan. She leans forward on her knees, glides her lips upwards until they rest on his throbbing head. Softly she presses them on the top, until they part and ease over his hot flesh. Her hair tickles the tiny part of his loins and his stomach not covered by his shirt and trousers. Torn between pushing her down and pulling his clothes away, he lifts his head, opens his eyes and gasps as he takes the sight in.

Gently he lifts his hips from the cushions, and not needing words to tell her what he wants, her hand on the right side, his on the left, they pull his trousers farther down. When he sets his behind back on the sofa, it is nearer to the edge and his balls are pressed in her hand. Accompanied by subtle moves of her lips, she eases her hand back until she is able to move her fingers and thumb; her fingers massage his balls tenderly while her thumb does the same with the base of his cock. Her other hand, half on his trousers, half on his skin, she gently kneads his thigh as she withdraws her lips from his head to kiss his shaft. Her head turned sideways, she plants little kisses all over his cock, alternating them with little licks of her hot tongue.

Savoring the sensations he leans his head against the backrest again and now finds his head in a position enabling him to watch her from under his eyelids. The sight is as tantalizing as the feelings until slight irregularities in her before so pleasingly smooth actions cause him to frown slightly. It crosses his mind she isn't used to kneel on a hard floor for a long time. He ponders to hand her one of the cushions to kneel upon. An other thought makes him tug gently but steady at the ends of his tie until she lifts her head from his cock, making a soft, protesting sound. His hands glide over her shoulders, caress the smooth skin of her arms before he takes her hands in his and squeezes them tenderly while she sits back on her feet, her mouth slightly open. He senses she wants to ask him why and quickly he puts a silencing finger against her lips.

If there should be talking it will be his, he decided when he touched the scar on her breast. His hands under her elbows he eases her up until she stands between his legs. Looking up along her figure he admires her, his hands now gliding up and down over the corset, never more than just his fingertips touching her skin until he rests his hands on her hips. With a content sigh she lays her hands on his underarms, rubbing his wrists with her thumbs. It springs to his mind how only moments ago one of her thumbs rubbed the base of his cock in the same way and the thought makes it quiver.

Teasingly he rubs his thumbs over the slick fabric of her panties, wondering if it is silk. As tight as the corset fits around her hips, waist and chest, as free the fabric covers her buttocks. The small gasps she makes tell him she enjoys this little teasing play with her while he debates with himself if he should hook his thumbs behind the waistband and pull the panties down, or if he should wait -and tease himself a bit longer too.

With a quick movement and a loud gasp from her he slides his hands down her hips and then up again his fingers along the garter bands inside her panties. A gleeful smirk around his mouth he notices how she trembles on her legs for a moment before her hands lie on his underarms again. A happy smile around her lips she throws her head back and moans hard as his fingers near her lips and satisfied he smiles when he notes how moist the crotch of her panties are.

A strong grip around her thighs he pulls her closer. His move was too unexpected for her and made her stumble on her high heels and with a soft squeal and a hand that landed on his shoulder by accident she catches herself. Grinning he pulls her even closer until he is able to kiss her breasts. He isn't able to concentrate fully enough to his liking on what he is doing, too much of her weight presses on his shoulder as she tries to not kneel on his lap.

"Spread your feet wide", he commands her and, her legs touching his, he takes her hands in his and -her own weight now pressing her breasts around his face- he places them in her tantalizing small waist. His hands on hers, he pushes her away a tiny bit. Just far enough her breasts touch his face every time she takes a breath. Which happens quite often. His mouth wanders over her warm skin, caressing his lips. Her breasts are full and voluptuous, quite firm to the touch the way they are pressed up by the corset.

Teasingly he paints a muster on them with just the tip of his tongue. Soft moans and a stretched throat because she has bent her back again, only increase his pleasure.

After a little while he wants more and pushes her a bit farther away, to feast his eyes on the mounds. Suddenly his eye falls on a small red-brown rand just above the corset-line. He draws in a sharp breath as he realizes this is her aureole. Grinning he lays his cheek against the mound and with slight upwards moves of his head he eases a bit more of her breast out off the corset. Small gasps tell him she feels his five o'clock shadow rubbing against her skin and how she enjoys it.

Not long and a hard nipple pops out of the corset. He kisses it once and takes his head back, to take the sight in.

He blows air over it. Watches satisfied how she trembles, but also notes the stance he put her in, is taking a toll on her muscles.

"Up", he breathes against her chest. His hands help her and as soon as she is standing upright between his legs. Hoarsely he tells her to put her feet a bit closer together. With his hands on her hips he turns her around. The backside is very pleasing to look at and he wishes to see more. He strokes her back, tugs at the lacing of the corset. His hands as high on her back as he can reach he tips his fingertips against her back.

"Bend," he tells her. A long moment she hesitates and then she bends forward in her hips, pushing her behind back at him. His forefingers follow the straps over her cheeks, disappearing under her panties all the way up to the rand of the corset. Seconds later he lays his hands on these soft and lush mounds, caresses them with his whole hands. It seems she doesn't know what to do with her hands. She has stroked her hair, froze as his fingers disappeared under her panties, placed her hands on her thighs, on her hips, in her waist.

Now his hands glide out from under the silk, back up over it until they stop in her waist. He checks how he is sitting, changes his posture somewhat and pulls hard.

The squeal with which she lands on his lap makes him laugh out loud. Quickly he embraces her as she instinctively tries to get up. With a sigh she relaxes and leans against his chest, her head beside his, her neck resting against his shoulder. Again she seems not to know what she should do with her hands, and he lays them on the back of his head. After a moment in which she doesn't move at all, she entwines her fingers in his hair and seeks a more comfortable position for her left leg, which occurs her to wriggle in his lap. Softly he bites in her neck as he realizes how nice silk feels against his skin.

Taking all the time the world offers him, he draws his fingers over her arms. Form the back of her hands to her shoulders, over her the pits of her arms to the insides of her wrists, each stroke ending a bit lower on her body until he reaches her breasts and plays with the one hard nipple he eased out before. He circles his fingertip around it, tips it, strokes it, takes it between thumb and forefinger; he pulls, squeezes and turns it to the left and seconds later, after his finger wandered around it once more, to the right.

Oblivious to everything else she spreads her legs wider and rocks her hips for- and backwards over his hard cock. He wants to lift his tie from her eyes for a moment, wants to see if her eyes are closed behind it but this temptation he resists. Another one he can't resist any longer.

"Get up!" he orders her. Her legs still spread over his, she slowly gets to her feet. Instantly he pulls her panties down under her butt and lays an arm around her stomach. Holding his cock with one hand he pulls her back down. Both pause the moment his cock touches her lips.

She moans softly and bends forward, leans her hands on his legs just above his knees. With a deep, longing groan he pushes his hips upwards and enters her. Again both wait for an immeasurable amount of time before she pushes down on him, impaling herself on his throbbing cock. Sitting on his lap again she moans hard and starts to circle her hips around. His hands glide over her leg and her waist, up and down her body until both lie on her bare cheeks. As she continues the small moves of her hips, he strokes her buttocks, his thumbs caressing the cleft between them.

The dangling ends of his dark blue and grey tie on the black and red of her corset irritates him. He wished he had put on his black and red tie this morning, or his dark grey one with the gleaming black paisley motives. They wouldn't have clashed with her corset. There is a simply remedy though, he takes the ends in his hands, winds them around her head and tucks them neatly under the first loop he knotted. She squirms a bit while he does this, makes a few soft disapproving noises because he tugs at a few hairs. He smiles, strokes her neck, takes a few strands between his fingers, plays with them.

Less hair than before is hanging over his tie. His fingers just above it he eases more hairs out from under the fabric. They are long enough to cover it. She looks wilder now, less lady-like. He can't decide if she looks more sexy or more lusty.

It doesn't matter. He wants her to feel what he feels.

His hands firmly planted on her buttocks, he pushes her up. After a second she follows his lead, and rises just far enough to keep the pulsing head of his cock inside her. This was not exactly what he had in mind, but nevertheless he groans with pleasure and signs her to lower herself again. Twice more he pushes her up, and twice more he lets her impale herself on his cock. Then he decides it is time, otherwise he would need quite some time to be ready again and he keeps pushing, ignoring her protesting murmurings.

She keeps hovering above his loins. Which makes him grin, despite the temptation her black lined arse-cheeks are. He leans forward, and kisses the soft mounds, following the straps running over them. She giggles, moans, wriggles and keeps still. He runs his fingers over the stockings.