Lost Time | lingerie for beautiful people

Lost Time | lingerie for beautiful people

Nineteen days! God, how I’d missed him. Especially at night! I’d become so used to his warmth next to me that l found sleeping difficult without him. I’d lain awake for countless hours regretting my decision not to join him.

Again and again, I’d relived our closeness — the way he’d kiss my cheek so softly; the way he can wrap his tongue around my nipples as he draws them into his mouth; the way that, regardless of my mood, he could always make me come, willingly or not!

Inevitably, I’d end up masturbating two, three or four times until I was so relaxed I couldn’t stop sleep from taking me. Then I’d spend the next few hours dreaming about him… good dreams and bad. The best were full of love and passion, softness and kisses or hardness and lust. And so were the worst of them except that in those, I wasn’t his partner. Then I’d wake fearful and stressed — too upset to have any hope of returning to sleep.

But no more. He’d just called from the airport before getting on the plane. He’d be mine again in less than four hours. And with his phone promises and my intentions, I was going to make up for lost time. I was going to make sure it was a homecoming to remember. He’d think a hundred times before planning his next ‘own space holiday’!

I quickly scanned the latest batch of mail in case anything really needed my attention — as opposed to the hundreds a day that didn’t, answered two, sent a general distribution note saying that I wouldn’t be back today, and logged off. I picked up my mobile phone, reached down for my handbag and swung my chair away from my desk, anxious to leave.

You know how sometimes life moves into slow motion‘? The camera pans the scene frame by frame so that you can catch every minute nuance and detail. This was one of those times!

I watched the phone slip from my hand. I observed as it dived intentionally (a perfect “10” without pike) toward the half-finished, long cold cappuccino I’d ordered hours ago as a lunch substitute. Finally, I witnessed phone, cup and contents moving from desk to floor. Damn! Damn! Damn!

Real time! I grabbed a handful of tissues from the box I keep on my desk, knelt down and started saving the carpet.

“Here, let me do it, Ms Arnold”, came an all too familiar voice. It was our cuter than cute office boy, Andy — the kind of young kid you want to take home and feed and… whatever.

“It’s o.k. Andy. Typical though, the greater the hurry, the less speed and all that”.

“It’s actually ‘more haste, less speed’ Ms Arnold.”

“I know that, Andy!” I said with a harshness built out of stress. “The last thing I need right now is an English lesson.”

“l’m sorry Ms Arnold. I didn’t mean…”

“That’s ok, Andy. I didn’t mean to snap like that. I was trying to get out of here for a meeting,” I said, raising my eyes to see an acute degree of embarrassment engulfing him.

Guilt swept over me as I concluded that his discomfort came from my rebuke. But then the light came on. He was embarrassed because I’d caught him! The little devil had had a grandstand view of my cleavage for the last couple of minutes. Worse! He undoubtedly had an even better view of my knickers, for my skirt had ridden quite high during my frenetic activity. Oh, God! Worse yet, I realized, as I remembered the lingerie I’d put on that morning.

I refuse to wear anything ordinary anyway — believing that if you feel beautiful underneath, you’ll positively glow on the outside. But, I’d really excelled myself that morning knowing that the day was special. I’d selected an absolutely spectacular set made from the sheerest white cotton, the bra cut very low and the knickers, cami-style, cut very high and very loose. One of my favourite fantasies — often acted out – is being had while I am still partly or wholly dressed. Cami-knickers are the perfect prop!

The trouble was that I’ll bet Andy could see a lot more than my knickers! I smiled. What else could I do? It was one of those half-shy, half-embarrassed, ‘what do we do next’ type of smiles.

“Andy, maybe you should get some tissues and help me after all. It’s a bit awkward with you up there.”

“Sorry, Ms Arnold. Sure. Sorry,” he mumbled, reaching for the box and kneeling down beside me.

With his head down and his eyes on the carpet, I decided to take the opportunity to stand – hopefully with a degree of dignity, and get my skirt down to where it should be. Another mistake! My hemline was now well above Andy’s line of sight. As Andy unconsciously followed my movements, it was obvious that he was seeing all that any healthy teenage boy dreamed about!

“Andy! Concentrate on the carpet. You’re embarrassing me,” I said in what I hoped was a stern voice that I didn’t really feel. Actually, I was starting to enjoy the situation. It was both hilarious and erotic. Andy was speechless. The mouth was open but the words were frozen. I suspect the blood he needed to make his brain work had all drained to fill his erection!

“Get up, Andy. Come on. We’ve done the best we can. The cleaner will get out anything else. Come on,” I said, offering my hand to help him up.

He hesitated, overcome with coyness, then took my hand and stood. As I helped him up, I couldn’t resist the temptation ~ I let our hands brush my right breast. I actually felt his arm tense. Cute!

He quickly stepped back, strategically dropping both hands, clasping them in front of, what I hoped, was a seriously uncomfortable evidence of lust.

‘Ok, Andy! It’s been fun but I gotta go. We should do it again some time.” I gave him one of my better smiles which turned to an easy laugh. “I won’t be back today.”

“Sure, Ms Arnold. Is there anything I can do for you while you’re gone?”

“No, Andy. I think we’ve done as much damage as we can for one day.” I watched as his face clouded with confusion. “Only joking, Andy. Smile! See you tomorrow, eh.”

With that I turned, walked to the elevator, pushed the down button and stared very deliberately at the closed doors in front of me. I knew he hadn’t moved an inch and was still watching me.

The lift doors opened. Empty, thank God. I stepped in, waited impatiently until the doors had shut and started shaking with laughter. Within an hour, I’d moved from mere mortal to Sex Goddess! A man on a plane threatening endless pleasures tonight and a boy ‘creaming his jeans’ at the sight of me. I’ve read that a woman’s sensuality peaks when she’s about 35. If this was a hint of the future, the next two, three or four years are going to be a lot of fun! Look out World… I am Woman!

###

Thankfully, the traffic was light. I tried to concentrate on my driving and not my very communicative body. My nipples, always sensitive, had found every fibre in my bra and converted them to tiny fingers. My “treasure”, his name for it, was singing it’s own sonata — and I can tell you, it was one hell of a love song!

I got home in less than 20 minutes. As always, my babies, Bella and Fonti — both miniature Schnauzers, were all over me with excitement.

“Hullo, my little darlings. What have you two terrorists been up to while Mummy’s been at work? Did you miss me? Guess who’s coming home tonight? Daddy! Yes, Daddy.”

It was a word they knew so well. After all, he was the one who was always prepared to chase them through the house — despite my protestations; wrestle with them — despite my fears of what a 90-kilogram, 185 cm tall human could do to my 3 and 4 kilogram angels; and put them in their favourite place — the car, even if he was only moving it from the driveway to the garage. Yes, Daddy was coming home and all of us were excited!

“Come on, I’ll give you a treat and then you’ll have to let me get ready.”

I walked into the kitchen, put down my handbag and reached up for their cookies. The action was enough to start my nipples tingling all over again. God, was I horny or what? I gave them each a cookie and watched as they savoured every crumb.

“Ok, you two, I want to look prettier tonight than your Dad’s ever seen me. He’ll never go away without us again, will he? I’m going to take a long bath, get really relaxed, and then find the sexiest clothes I own. Will I give you two a bath, too? Would you like that? Bath?”

If you ever want to make a mini Schnauzer disappear, that’s the magic word. Bath! It works every time. They’d be in the farthest corner of the yard for the next hour!

I walked into the bedroom and turned to the wardrobe. I looked at my image reflected in the mirrored doors. I love mirrors. I love to watch myself as I’m being loved. I love to watch my man as I’m loving him. The mirrors let me imagine I’m looking at someone else having a wonderful time while I am too. This whole bedroom wall is all mirrors. I slid back one of the doors and started going through my dresses.

It had to be a dress and it had to be a short, sleeveless dress. I wanted him to see as much of me as possible and to know what he’d been missing. Bastard! Yes — that one. Perfect! I removed a little black and gold dress that I knew always excited him. It’s one of those dresses you can’t sit down in. Well, not without causing a sensation, anyway.

I laid the dress on the bed and then opened one of my lingerie drawers — the drawer where I keep the best of my very best. I wanted to feel like an offering tonight… the virgin sacrifice. A bit hard in black, I admit, but I wasn’t going to change my mind on the dress.

I found the perfect set, also black and gold. Both the bra and knickers are see-through and there is a sweet little camisole that pretends to make it all decent. I put those on the bed beside the dress. Then I laid down beside the clothes with my feet still on the floor. I lifted my head to look at myself in the mirror.

“Is this what Andy could see,” I verbalized as I saw myself exposed, knickers covering almost nothing. I parted my legs a little.

“Did I get you all hard, Andy? Could you see a touch of pink, Andy… even a little wetness? Did you like it, Andy? I did! Maybe we will do it again,” I admitted to myself. “After all,” I continued, “if I’m going to be the virgin offering tonight, shouldn’t I also be offered a virgin in return? I assume you are a virgin, Andy?”

I let a hand move over my breasts and down over my mound until it found the end of my skirt. Still watching, I moved my knickers aside and felt myself. I was aching to be loved. “Soon!” I promised myself.

Still laying down, I unbuttoned my blouse. I watched the girl in the mirror expose her pretty breasts in her pretty bra. I sat up so that I could admire her cleavage. I could see the darkness of her nipples so clearly, so nicely, through the sheer fabric.

The girl in the mirror stood, drew down the zipper on her skirt and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it and turned side on.

“Would Andy like that?” I asked myself as I let the girl in the mirror free her breasts. The bra dropped to join the skirt on the floor. The breasts are full but still sit high, the nipples large and inviting. The girl in the mirror turned back, cupped each breast and then pinched each nipple to hardness.

I watched as she moved both hands over her slim hips until they reached her thighs. Her left hand then pulled the fabric aside as the right hand touched the treasure I ached to have touched. I admired the glistening pinkness of her slit as her finger moved slowly along the length of her lips. I watched in fascination as she raised her finger and placed it in my mouth. I could taste her wetness… her essence… her being. And I loved it.

“It’s time to get ready, my dear,” she said to me. “He’s coming home, remember? Time to run that bath and prepare the virgin!”

I laughed at myself. I laughed at my “Andy fantasy”. I laughed knowingly at the girl in the mirror. Tonight I wouldn’t need anything but the smell, warmth, lust and love of my man.

I moved into the main bathroom and bent to start the bath. I felt the weight of my breasts as they fell forward and thanked my parents, yet again, for the generosity of their gene pool. Without thought I placed a hand over each and marveled at my level of arousal. I straightened. The girl in the mirror pinched her nipples. I watched them darken and harden. Oh, so pretty!

I waited until there were about two inches of hot water in the tub and then I adjusted the tap to a warm, gentle flow. I stepped in and lay down. Then I moved my body toward the tap until my legs were following the wall and my treasure was positioned immediately under the tap and it’s caressing flow. I parted my lips to fully expose my jewel. Overcome with pleasure, I closed my eyes.

Within moments, wave after building wave moved through me. So exquisite. So soft. Yet so demanding and forceful. The water lapped and licked, caressed and cajoled. I rocked, moaned and soared with the explosion.

“Thank you, Aquarius, thank you.”

Still enveloped in thoughts of my man, Andy and other vaguer, but no less sensual images, I edged back from the flow and let the bath continue to fill. “Now, that’s one appetizer that’ll never spoil my appetite!” I said to the girl in the mirror. She smiled back at me.

I’ve heard some people say that they don’t like baths. What is there not to like? I love the way the water draws away the day’s toil as it gently cleans my body. I can stay there for hours, occasionally draining some water and adding more hot. But not that day. Time was knocking at the bathroom door.

The girl in the mirror watched as I quickly toweled myself, paying extra attention to my under-arms and my treasure. I then used my epilator to make sure I was as smooth as a mannequin.  Finally, I stepped into the shower, washed and conditioned my hair and then watched as a mix of conditioner, water and remnant thoughts of Andy escaped through the waste in the floor.

Dry once again, I returned to the bedroom. I picked up my lotion and inspected myself in the mirror as I applied it. A perfect virgin with a perfectly hairless body. For a moment I even wondered if I should shave my head. I laughed out loud. It would be fun for a night but I could visualize — all too clearly — the years it would take me to get it back to the length both he and I liked.

I reached for my bra and put that on first, followed by the camisole, all the while watching my image. The camisole reached only as far as my hips. My mound stood proudly exposed. I then reached for and pulled on the knickers, then the dress. I never wear tights and this dress was way too short for stockings.

I studied, first myself, and then my movements. If I moved ‘so’, my dress came up high enough to show a hint of knickers. I reached up, as though opening a curtain and saw a dark “V” appear from beneath my dress. I removed my knickers and repeated the charade. My initial reaction was that it was too much, too obvious – hardly the way a virgin would act! But then, he does love it if I go anywhere knicker-less! In truth, so do I… the risk of being ‘seen’ is very stimulating. In fact, at such times I even find myself crossing and uncrossing my legs far more than I usually would. Committed, I returned the knickers to their drawer.

I put on a simple gold necklace, bracelet and anklet, my perfume and lipstick and then went out to the kitchen. It was definitely time for a glass of bubbly! I reached up to take a couple of glasses from the shelf. I felt my dress ride up my thighs and then over my bottom. I could visualize the look on his face!

“Just my glass for now,” I said to myself. “Somehow, I think it will be much more rewarding to get his when he’s here!” I was so looking forward to his arrival. To that first kiss. To being held and loved.

As if on cue, I heard a car pull into the drive. His taxi! The dogs — bath fears forgotten, came careering through the pet door in full howl, ready to protect me from whatever intruder was daring to trespass. I put the still empty glass on the bench and followed them. The three of us stood at the closed door waiting — them ready to kill with loyalty, me with love!

I heard the car pull back down the drive and then a shuffle of feet at the entry. I pulled the door wide and froze in disappointment. His face was one magnificent smile, but he wasn’t alone!

My angels hid my disappointment. They leapt into doggie paradise. Daddy was home and there was also someone they could kill. They didn’t know which to do first so settled for leaping, yelping, barking, growling and trying to look threatening all at the same time.

“Hi, Beautiful! I’ve sure been missing you. This is Peter. He’s Austrian. We met in Kakadu. He wanted to see this part of the country as well, so I’ve invited him to stay with us for a few days. I hope you don’t mind?” All this delivered with that same magnificent, disarmingly boyish smile. He came forward, took my face with the hand that wasn’t holding his backpack, kissed me and then stepped past me into the house.

Mind? Of course I minded! I minded a lot! In fact, I was outright pissed about it. Away for nineteen days and he arrives with a house-guest! Why would I mind? All my plans for the night ruined. No wild reunion, only a candlelit dinner for three. Mind? Not me. Much!

A part of me was still composed enough to acknowledge Peter’s greeting — warm and supported by a broad grin. His attention was immediately diverted by my two remaining allies who, I suspect having felt my change of mood, began a mock attack. Peter immediately dropped to his knees and held out his hand to them in a submissive gesture. Puffed with pride over their obvious effect, my allies became instant traitors as they crowded around him.

“Oh, that’s great!” I exclaimed without thought.

Peter looked up at me and then let his eyes move back down my body. Not far, but far enough to make me know that, for the second time that day, I had no more secrets left to share!

My hands instinctively pressed my dress against me, as I felt the heat of embarrassment rising but was saved from any further humiliation by a voice calling from inside the house.

“Are you two going to come inside or just stand out there and exchange cards?”

I reclaimed whatever dignity I could and stepped back from the doorway, hoping my expression looked a lot friendlier than it felt!

Peter stood, picked up his bag and stepped into our entry hall. But instead of continuing into the house, he turned to face me. Only inches separated us as he spoke… “He has spoken of nothing but you since we met. Now I understand why. You are magnificent — all of you.” Without waiting to see my reaction, he turned and was gone.

“Come on Peter, I’ll show you where your bedroom is. You can put your stuff away and take a shower while I do some explaining.”

So! At least he had a conscience! He’d got the message, it seemed.

I walked to our bedroom and stood in front of the mirror once more. The girl there was clearly unhappy. She certainly didn’t feel “magnificent”. In fact, she felt unloved and deserted. Even the dogs were ‘out with the boys’! I was wondering what clothes I’d change to when he finally walked through the doorway. I swung around to face him and swung at him in the same movement, managing a pathetic blow to his shoulder.

“You bastard! How could you do that? Don’t you have any idea of how it’s been for me while you’ve been gone? Jesus Christ! To think I came home early to prepare myself for you. What a waste of time. I should have just stayed at work!”

The words and abuse continued as I looked at him through eyes filled with tears of disappointment, disillusionment and rage. Ignoring my blows, he came forward and held me tight against him.

“My darling girl, I missed you more than I’ve missed anything in my life. I am so glad to be back. You look so beautiful. Please don’t be angry. I promise Peter will fit in. He’s really adaptable and a great guy. We’ve got so many stories to tell you.”

He kissed my cheek softly, breathed in my perfume and nuzzled into my hair. I felt his hands moving down my back and over my bottom. His hands explored, through the fabric. Experienced hands that knew there was nothing underneath. I felt him sliding the fabric higher. Even through my anger, I wanted his touch.

“And that, my sweet lady, is especially beautiful.” He was obviously watching us in the mirror, seeing what I had planned for him to see, not his friend. I struggled away from him.

“A lot of difference it makes! I’ve got to change now anyway, thanks to Herr Peter! Not that there’s much of me he hasn’t already seen, thanks to you!”

“Thanks to me? What are you talking about? Come on now, no secrets.”

“It’s hardly a secret. I’m just thankful he didn’t have his camera handy!” I explained what had happened – including Peter’s comments – expecting indignation or, at the very least, support. Instead, he burst out laughing.

“See, I told you he’d fit right in! Sweetheart, don’t change. Don’t do a thing. No panties, nothing different. You look so lovely. Stay like this. Please. I’m asking you — for me.”

He pushed me back as he spoke so that I had no choice but to move on to the bed. He knelt in front of me and moved my knees apart. He bent forward and kissed the inside of my right thigh,  simultaneously placing his hands behind my knees and lifting them. I was fully exposed to him. He moved his tongue the length of my lips, stopping just short of my jewel.

“You taste fantastic. S0 sexy,” he whispered. “What have you been up to, eh?”

I felt his tongue probe deeper as I murmured, “Wouldn’t you like to know. Maybe you should have been here to save me.”

His head came up. “If I give you the surprise of your life, will you tell me?”

Instead of answering, I pushed his head back down and waited until I was rewarded by the pleasure of his lips around my jewel.

“For the surprise of my life,” I breathed, “I’ll tell you anything!”

###

He sat back with a Cheshire cat expression. Bad oral sex is great. Great oral sex — and he was great — always made me very bad! My orgasm had been enough to ‘move the earth’ for the whole neighbourhood.

“Don’t go anywhere! And do not change. I’m just going to take a quick shower and then we’ll have a glass of bubbly. Promise?”

I promised, asked him to at least shut the bedroom door and then lay there listening to the sounds of him showering in our en-suite. It’s amazing how one good orgasm can iron out an awful lot of anger. I was glad to have him home… house-guest or not.

I considered changing — as much to punish him as anything, but decided I did feel deliciously naughty dressed as I was. I walked into the en-suite, sat on the only seat in the room — the toilet — and watched. He turned off the water, stepped out and reached to take a fresh towel from the rack above my head. Never a girl to miss an opportunity, I reached out and took his cock in my hand.

He stopped mid-movement, looked down at me and said, “Is there something you want Ma’am? If so, I assure you, you have my undivided attention.”

In answer, I leaned forward and took all of him in to my mouth. Like a switch, I could feel him start to swell and harden. As my mouth started to fill, I moved it back, sliding my lips slowly and softly up and down the shaft, using my tongue to caress the sensitive underside, until he was fully erect. Then I stood, put one foot up on to the toilet and tried to pull him in to me. He pulled back, refusing to co-operate even though lust was written clearly all over him.

“Not so fast, my little princess. A woman in need, is a woman indeed! Do you need it, my darling? Do you? Do you want to be loved? Are you ready to use and be used?”

What I wanted was his cock! I wanted to feel it deep inside me — every centimetre of it. I wanted to feel it thrusting in and out of me, filling me. I tried to pull him close again so that I could have him.

“Not yet, beautiful. First, the surprise! Patience brings it’s own rewards,” he said, taking my head in his hands and kissing me, very softly at first and then with a hunger that made me know that he loved me. My heart was pounding and so was my jewel. Both needed attention.

He stepped back again, saying, “Come on, don’t I get a glass of bubbly or something to celebrate with? Let me put something on and we’ll go and get one.” Without waiting for a response, he stepped past me into the bedroom. He went to the wardrobe and selected a stunning kimono we’d bought him when we had visited Japan the year before. He slipped it on, tied the sash and then combed back his dark, still very wet hair. He looked every part the Samurai warrior!

He came over to where I stood, took my hand, opened the bedroom door and started toward the kitchen. I hesitated, looking around for the intruder.

Obviously more attuned to my thinking than I realized, the Samurai said, “Relax… he knows I want a little time alone with you. He’s probably taking a nap. I guarantee you’ll be glad he’s here before today ends”.

I started to open my mouth but decided to take advantage of whatever time we had. We had arrived in the kitchen. “Why don’t I sit right here and watch while you get down a couple of glasses? Then I’ll watch again as you bend to get the champagne. I’d like that!” He said.

God, I thought, am I that predictable? But I duly complied, reaching much higher and bending much lower than I needed to.

While still bent reaching for the champagne, I moved my feet apart and swayed my hips from side to side. “Does Master San like what humble Geisha offers?” I asked demurely.

“Master San loves what Geisha offers. Adores what Geisha offers. Wants what Geisha offers. Master San has traveled many miles to be with his Geisha. Master San has bought a special gift for Geisha.”

I stayed in that position as he stood and walked over until he was pressed against me. Then he reached around me and lifted the champagne from the shelf. Not quite what I had in mind!

I turned to face him. He was standing with his back against the sink, framed by the window, the late afternoon sunglow making him appear like a god. I walked over and pressed myself into him. He put down the champagne, tilted my head back and kissed me, oh, so sweetly, again and again. His hands caressing me. His lips on my lips, breathing each other’s breath. I could feel him hardening against me. I could feel my own wetness building again.

He held me far enough away from him to be able to lean forward to kiss the tops of my breasts. I felt his tongue moving into my bra, seeking my left nipple, while his left hand found my slit. I felt through the opening of his Kimono and found his beautiful sword, unsheathed and anxious. I drew it out into the light and held it with both hands.

He raised his head, took mine in his hands again and rested his forehead against mine. I looked up at him and heard him whisper, “I love you.”

At the very same moment, I felt another body move against me from behind. Arms came around me. Hitherto unknown hands cupped my breasts. I tried to pull back, away, to be free, but my Samurai held me firmly and repeated, “I love you.” His lips sought mine.

I pressed into him as the body behind pressed into me. I could feel strange fingers exploring my breasts, circling my nipples. Despite my fears, I felt overwhelmed with desire. I closed my eyes and opened my lips further to accept the endless kisses my love was offering.

I could feel my Samurai’s sword hard against my belly. I reached behind and found a second shaft. I felt my dress lifted and that shaft move lower, trying to find its way between my legs, seeking its target. I felt my feet being forced apart, my hips being pulled back, providing a more accommodating position. And then I felt that shaft slide home.

I was swept away.

To be continued…

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