Setting the cello aside, she turns to face me. Her breasts and taut pink nipples glow in the diffuse morning light. In the gap between her legs, the narrow V of a white cotton thong is clearly visible.Her face is nordic with high cheek bones, widely set eyes, and full, sensual lips. I step onto my little balcony so she could view me as well.Her eyebrows lift in appraisal, followed by a shy but growing smile. Only then do I realize that my cock is not only erect, but standing straight out from my body with a slight upward curve that aims the tip skyward. For an instant I feel exposed and even embarrassed. But as her look fixes on my cock, she leans back in her chair, lifts her hips, and slides her thong down her legs in one easy motion-- revealing a neatly trimmed patch of pale yellow hair. Below, her labia are as swollen as her nipples, and shiny droplets of moisture belie her excitment.I want to transport myself across the open space between us, kneel between her open legs and draw. She begins to turn her head to question me, but I nod toward the mirror: ‘No, keep looking at your reflection.’ Slowly my hands alight on her shoulders, rub decisively down the outsides of her arms, and cease their descent when they clench in on either side of her waist. I lean my head until my breath is on her ear. I whisper, hotly: ‘I have a confession to make.’ She is unused to this level of physical contact, but it is sinking in as to what the night has been and where it is going, and her voice is hushed when she asks ‘What?’ ‘I have wanted you—for years.’ An intake of breath on her part, and I continue the auricular onslaught of mine. ‘For so long, I have dreamed about taking you to a warm place where we could be alone, just like where I finally have you now, by the grace of fate.’ She stands so softly in my hold. ‘I have dreamed of doing this’—flicking her earlobe with the tip of my tongue—’and doing this’—laying the gentlest kiss on the side of her neck—’and this’—running both.
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