Blue met me at his door in a French blue dress shirt and suit pants. A subtly printed silk tie hung loosened from his collar. In all the months I’d known him, he’d never dressed up before.
I traced his lapel; the casual touch belied the hot rush between my thighs. “What’s the occasion?”
His smile was Sphinx-like. “From time to time, I’m required to clean up.” He skimmed his hand along my body. “And I thought you might appreciate my punishment.” He rolled the word punishment around in his mouth.
My nipples tightened; a delicious shiver coasted over my skin. Blue wanted to play.
“Take off my tie, Bianca.”
I slid my finger into the cool silk knot. I eased the ends apart, threaded the tie back through his collar, and offered it to him.
The door was still open to the street outside. The gaslight glittered on the wrought iron, vanished into the inky shadowed hedges. I envisioned my silhouette back-lit in amber while he bound my wrists behind my back with the tie. He slipped my filmy cardigan down over my shoulders, followed by the thin straps of my dress. The bodice slipped a fraction, baring the scalloped lace of my bra.
I was a wanton, half undressed in the door frame of his townhouse, and all I wanted was more of his touch. Here. Now. It didn’t matter.
Wrapping one arm protectively around me, he eased my body back against his while his other hand slid up the back of my bare thigh, under the slit hem of my skirt. I felt the fabric rise, but from the sidewalk below, no one would see.
“Now, come for me.”
When his fingers plunged into my pussy, I convulsed against him, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Rubbing my clit with two slick fingers, he brought me crashing through a second climax.
With a tender kiss, he gathered me up, still trembling, and nudged the door closed.
Today, I’m trying something new. I’m sharing myself and Blue with a writing community called Trifecta. Their prompt this week was to write a piece of erotica in 33-333 words.