She did not want to go, but could not refuse. His kind invite to the Moonset ball was intended expressly for her. When she came ready dressed to await him, she paused, looked into the large mirror and there she saw that she was pretty, very pretty. She felt almost sad - but it was a sweet, tender sadness.
She thought to herself that if he were here now, she would not behave as she had done then. She would simply embrace him, cling to him and make him look at her with those searching eyes. Then she would make him laugh as he used to laugh. and those eyes - how she had to see those fiery green eyes. That smile - adult, mischievous and yet at the same time childlike, impish.
No - she could not think of him for the present. Forget him, for now at least. She could not bear this waiting a moment longer. She turned from the glass making an effort not to cry. At that moment she felt so beloved that it was not enough for her to be loved and know she was adored too. She wanted now to embrace the man she loved. To hear from him words of love such as might fill her heart.
She sat, gazing pensively - viewing the street lamps flickering against the frozen window. She felt sadder and more in love and forgot where she was going and with whom. Suddenly there he was, gazing at her sparkling eyes, shiny with fun. She beamed and ran off giggling. He found himself watching a rapturous smile dimpling her cheeks, a smile almost never seen
'What a delightful woman she is', he mused as she jumped up quickly, shooting a glance of feminine delight at him. It was as if she were watching and waiting for his reaction. She had not experienced that sensation for such a long time - better than a hundred pairs of eyes looking at her bare arms and neck. His gaze suddenly affected her both agreeably and disagreeably, calling up a whole host of memories, desires and emotions associated with the feeling of love.
He was struck by the fullness of her life and beauty. Her eyes looking out him, without seeing and her delicate arm, bare to the elbow, lay on the velvet edge of the seat, evidently unconsciously, opening and closing her hand in time to the music of the beating of her heart.
"A smile for you, my love, " she interrupted his silent musings, squeezing and hugging him.
Outside there was the same bright stillness and the same moon, but even brighter than before. One almost did not want to look up at the sky, for the real star lay there in his arms. She looked up at him sighing softly...so content...so safe.
Quite different and yet the same, he thought looking at her face all lit up by the moonlight as she gazed happily at him. He slipped his arms under the cloak that covered her head, embraced her, pressed her to him and kissed her full on the lips, disengaging her feminine hands, pressing them to his cheeks. Her heart was pounding as he kept peering at that fantastic all-transforming light in her face. Perhaps he was searching for her former self . Perhaps he sought her present being. Perhaps he delved for her future path. She smiled back secretly, knowing he was searching and musing ... he would never be able to see all that.
He looked and recognised in her both the old and the new. He was reminded of the sweet smell of her by the sensation of her kiss. He inhaled the frosty air, looking at the ground flying at his feet as he came closer still to her. She breathed deeply - such anticipation welling up inside.
She knew what this was supposed to represent. Feeling the bright light of the moon, she noticed that it seemed to flood the whole garden. The cool air was frozen by the crowd of snow flakes falling about her helter skelter. Little by little she began to pass into a state of intoxication that she had not experienced for a long while. As she looked and thought, the strangest fancies unexpectedly and disconnectedly passed through her mind.
The scantily clad woman was sitting so close to him now, smiling at him with that same smile he remembered from long times past. She even turned so that he could see her in profile, in what he thought was her most becoming aspect. His face appeared sad, when he leaned forward on his elbows and whispered to her for a long time. Finally, almost smiling, he gazed straight into her eyes with an enraptured caressing look. It seemed so strange to be so near him, to look at him like that, to be so sure he admired her, and yet not to be acquainted with him in person.
She turned her pretty head towards the elegant man and smiled at him over her bare shoulder. He stood up beside her and offered her his hand. He drew her to him and told her that he had long wished to have this happiness, ever since that dance, where he had had the well-remembered pleasure of seeing her. He talked boldly and naturally. She was struck by the fact that he seemed naive, cheerful and thoroughly good natured. Yet, while talking to her, he never removed his smiling eyes from her face, her neck, and her bare arms. She knew for certain that he was enraptured by her.
When she was not looking at him she felt he was gazing at her shoulders. She caught his eye involuntarily so that he would look into hers rather than at the curves and soft folds of her body. Looking into his eyes, she was suddenly anxious, realizing that there was not the barrier of modesty she had always felt between herself and other men. She did not know how it was that within such a short time she had come to feel herself so terribly close to this man. She kept turning towards him, as if to ask him what it all meant.
During one of those moments of awkward silence, when his green eyes were gazing calmly and fixedly into hers, she tried to break the silence. She went to ask a question, but hesitated and blushed instead. She felt that by talking to him she was almost doing something improper. And still he smiled as though to encourage her - no to dare her - to do more. He looked into the receding line of candles reflected in the glass of the window and gazed into the translucent vista of her mind's eye. Her soft smile dropped for a moment...worried ...what if he does suddenly see the things he is searching for in her eyes?
A woman ,open eyed and almost motionless, gazed again at the moonlight through the frosty window panes of her bed chamber. Male fingers trace gentle outlines all across her cheeks, enjoying the feel of her warm malleable flesh. She seemed to be going into a dream-like stasis under such a gentle touch. The air was growing misty. Her senses were failing. She felt tired and faint. He leant forward supportively and planted a gentle kiss on her lovely forehead. He reached across her as she slipped down onto the divan. She closed her eyes and he snuffed the candle, leaving her to enjoy her rest in expectation of further moonsets to come.
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She walked along the corridor of the hotel, blurry eyed, feeling a little unwell. She'd had flu and a backache that tormented her all night. Finally at four in the morning had risen to try to get some relief. She walked down the darkened stairwell in search of a glass for some water, her dark bathrobe almost cloaking her in invisibility in the sombre night.
She turned and saw him sitting there in an armchair, smiling at her and shaking his finger at her slowly, as if telling her off. Despite herself she blushed, thinking how she would love to clamber into his arms and be rocked to sleep there in the reassuring warmth. He beckoned her over and stood up to whisper in her ear:
"Get back to bed, you naughty girl. I thought it was a ghost coming down the stairwell. I could hardly see you in the dark."
"I was just checking to see who else couldn't sleep."
She turned obediently, picking up the glass that she had sought and beginning to make her way to the door. He smiled, pleased at her response and, murmured:
"Good girl."
"Sometimes," she giggled meaningfully and let her robe fall open to reveal the soft curves of her body, unveiled before him. "Can you see me now?"
"Yes, I can, sweetness," he smiled.
"Good," she teased." Then all is right with the world and I shall go to bed."
"Can I join you?"
"Absolutely."
He laughed at her obvious enthusiasm and added discreetly: "I'll be very good."
"Oh, I don't doubt that for a second," she smiled and took his hand in hers, pleased to have found him to warm the rest of her night.
He followed her up the stairs, running a soothing hand up and down her back, pausing a little overlong she though at her lower back and round the soft contours of her bottom. She wasn't complaining though, and loved the sensations that the feel of his hands through her nightdress brought out in her, the buzzing and tingling of a thousand half-awakened nerves.
At the top of the stairs he reached round her and took her in a hug in both arms, pulling her face to his in a pleasant kiss.
"It's nice to get to know someone at the top of the stairs," she smiled, falling into his embrace eagerly.
His hands continued to massage her back, soothing the aches away and pressing her breasts into his body. She wondered if he would lie down right there for a moment, pulling her down on top of him and giggled excitedly at the prospect of flaunting the rules in this way. There again the carpet looked rather rough and worn and she thought of that soft, beckoning bed, the coverlets that she could throw back and the slight squeak of the springs as she pushed him back onto the bed.
"You can be on top, since your back hurts," he muttered into her ear as if reading her thoughts.
"Oooh," she giggled slyly. "Does that mean I get to be in control?"
"Well, I hope that you won't cuff my hands to the bedstead to reassure yourself of that," he laughed softly.
"I'll only manipulate you gently, my friend," she teased again, searching in the folds of his gown for a turgid member to stroke and reassure with gentle caresses.
"Do I need more than manipulation, sweetness?" he asked.
"Well you could have this sweet mouth to entertain you?" She finished his unspoken thought wickedly.
"Provided you don't kiss and tell," he warned.
"Oh, no," she assured him. "I just kiss and fornicate."
"That works for me."
They reached his room and he looked at her. He put his hand firmly on the doorknob, turning it slowly, seeing how tired she actually looked and realising that really she needed some sleep.
"I'll be waiting at your bedside, before breakfast, I promise."
She looked disappointed, but still smiled and added wistfully: "Oh I can only dream."
"Leave off the hose and I'll shave twice so as not to scratch your celestial thighs."
"Well, I am in easy garb now," she purred provocatively. "And I never mind if you scratch me, I do like a little roughness, as well you know."
He knelt down in front of her as if to check her nightdress up close and personal as it were. She laughed and with a moment's hesitation knelt too.
"Boo!" she whispered seductively, trying to keep a straight face, but eventually giving way to a little fit of giggles.
"What kissable lips," he whispered, and, in the spirit of that moment's silliness, added alliteratively: "and huggable hips."
"Then come to me and do your thing."
"I would take you to a land of exotic reverie, if you should not be in bed getting shut eye," he murmured, again sensible - disappointing.
She stood up and brushed the dust off her knees, almost pouting at this rejection, although she recognised the sense of what he said.
"Another time perhaps?" he asked, reading her mild irritation.
"It's now or never," she teased, lifting her nightdress up to mid thigh provocatively.
He reached down to run his finger up the naked flesh and she let the folds of the nightdress gather around his wrists. His responsibilities to satisfy her were calling him now and his desires were rising, aided and abetted by the manipulating fingers of this seductive woman. She rubbed and teased him under his robe, feeling the tumescent growth, rising as a cobra to the beguiling music of a charmer.
His hand slipped up her thigh, over the softness of her inner leg, running along the line of her bottom cheeks and then touching delicately the contours of the V shaped nest of desire. His mouth watered at the feeling of the soft curls of her sex and the moisture between her lips. He slicked his finger into the damp groove and ran it slowly backwards and forwards, looking up into her eyes, to see her face take on a slightly glazed look. Excitement lent a fresh flush to her already rosy cheeks, but she was still ready to challenge him to further adventures.
"Are you thinking of me fondly, now?" She couldn't resist teasing him, even as her own hand slued back and forth over the hardening flesh, captive in her hand.
"I'm certainly enjoying this squeezy hug," he cooed at her, a prisoner to her wanton designs, as she closed her thighs around his wrist to gain leverage. Her own hand in the meantime, trailed up and down his shaft meaningfully, leaving dizzy lustful thoughts sparking through his mind.
"Well, come with me and I'll take you to a thousand more such delights," she enticed.
"You are too good to me," he groaned, his fingers now sinking into the mulchy terrain between her thighs, pushing apart the offered lips and seeking the bud that rested deep within her.
"I just want to be good for you," she whispered beguilingly, reaching to cup his balls in the palm of her hand. She wondered how he would react if she were to kneel down right there and then to take him in her mouth. Licking her lips, she thought of that salty head penetrating her lips and the shaft sliding in easily, and then withdrawing, as his hands played with her hair. Would he pull at the long strands as she teasingly nibbled his foreskin?
"You are," he gasped".....my 4 am tonic."
"Can you bear to put me back in my bottle now or would you like to try a softer, warmer, moister container?" She responded, lascivious as ever.
And so saying, she pulled him to her, taking control as she had promised. She removed his damp hand firmly from her sex and brought it up to her mouth to kiss. Inserting his damp fingers one by one into her mouth, she nibbled and suckled her own flavours from him. Her little toilette completed, she let her fingers flutter along the length of his sex, leaving the tip of one finger a bare millimetre from the twitching end.
She beckoned him towards her with the unique magnetism that this gentle foreplay had conjured in the darkness. Flowing down the corridor, she attracted him irresistibly to follow in her wake, a slave to his passions and to her desires -- desires to be satisfied in her room, in the certain knowledge that, as always, he would be just what she needed.
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