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Your place or mine?
3D Render by ErotipixelsThey played eye tag across the bar for awhile, her big, sparkling blue eyes peeking demurely over the rim of her glass as she sipped her cocktail. He maneuvered close enough to exchange a few ice breaking, pithy observations.
She came across as slightly shy, a bit nervous with a touch of tentative coquettish reservation. But, those eyes... Her head tilted slightly down and those big, glistening pools of sparkling blue pointed up at him. It was intoxicating. Debilitating. Powerfully alluring.
She said she'd never done anything like this before, hooking up with a guy in a bar. Her nervousness seemed genuine. It also significantly enhanced her powerfully intoxicating sexiness.
"Your place or mine?" he asked.
She, the downward tilted head and the upward pointed eyes, sparkling, signaling just a hint of desire, said "Mine".
He followed her. It was a very nice house in a very nice neighborhood. They parked. She fumbled awkwardly for the key, struggled to put it in the lock and work the mechanism. She genuinely seemed nervous and rattled.
Once inside, she invited him to make himself comfortable while she made some refreshment.
He sat and took in what was a very tasteful and well appointed home. He heard the click of her heels as she rummaged around in what he assumed was the kitchen. Cupboards opened, the click of glassware, the clinking of ice being put into glassware, and all the while the sound of those heels moving around. He could sort of follow her around by the sound of those heels.
It took what seemed a little longer than necessary but he waited quietly and patiently until...
Whoa.... Like, really whoa...
He could be forgiven for not noticing what wasn't revealed, obscured, hidden, because what was revealed was... distracting. On steroids. She sat next to him and he was almost immediately overwhelmed with proximity and with deluge of her pheromonal power. She placed a drink in front of him. As she did so, her demure, coquettishness remained. In spite of it, she seemed utterly unperturbed by her nakedness. Her eyes never left his. She sipped her drink the same way she had in the bar, head slightly forward, eyes pointed up at him, glistening, only now they conveyed just the slightest mischievous hint.
He sipped. They chatted. His eyes grew annoyingly heavy. And then he...
Could she have put something in his drink?
What he failed to notice when she first appeared with their drinks was now very much apparent. As was the mischievous glint. She wasn't malicious. She didn't mean to harm. It was apparent his restraint, his captivity, was powerfully arousing for her. There was no longer any sign of shyness. Of nervousness. No longer demure. She was in control. She had the power. Her cheeks flushed. Her lips swelled. She looked hungry. And horny. That made him horny. Very horny.
He had fallen for her rouse. Fell into her trap. He had been her prey all along.
And, it was wonderful. Amazing. Cataclysmic.
She came across as slightly shy, a bit nervous with a touch of tentative coquettish reservation. But, those eyes... Her head tilted slightly down and those big, glistening pools of sparkling blue pointed up at him. It was intoxicating. Debilitating. Powerfully alluring.
She said she'd never done anything like this before, hooking up with a guy in a bar. Her nervousness seemed genuine. It also significantly enhanced her powerfully intoxicating sexiness.
"Your place or mine?" he asked.
She, the downward tilted head and the upward pointed eyes, sparkling, signaling just a hint of desire, said "Mine".
He followed her. It was a very nice house in a very nice neighborhood. They parked. She fumbled awkwardly for the key, struggled to put it in the lock and work the mechanism. She genuinely seemed nervous and rattled.
Once inside, she invited him to make himself comfortable while she made some refreshment.
He sat and took in what was a very tasteful and well appointed home. He heard the click of her heels as she rummaged around in what he assumed was the kitchen. Cupboards opened, the click of glassware, the clinking of ice being put into glassware, and all the while the sound of those heels moving around. He could sort of follow her around by the sound of those heels.
It took what seemed a little longer than necessary but he waited quietly and patiently until...
Whoa.... Like, really whoa...
He could be forgiven for not noticing what wasn't revealed, obscured, hidden, because what was revealed was... distracting. On steroids. She sat next to him and he was almost immediately overwhelmed with proximity and with deluge of her pheromonal power. She placed a drink in front of him. As she did so, her demure, coquettishness remained. In spite of it, she seemed utterly unperturbed by her nakedness. Her eyes never left his. She sipped her drink the same way she had in the bar, head slightly forward, eyes pointed up at him, glistening, only now they conveyed just the slightest mischievous hint.
He sipped. They chatted. His eyes grew annoyingly heavy. And then he...
Could she have put something in his drink?
What he failed to notice when she first appeared with their drinks was now very much apparent. As was the mischievous glint. She wasn't malicious. She didn't mean to harm. It was apparent his restraint, his captivity, was powerfully arousing for her. There was no longer any sign of shyness. Of nervousness. No longer demure. She was in control. She had the power. Her cheeks flushed. Her lips swelled. She looked hungry. And horny. That made him horny. Very horny.
He had fallen for her rouse. Fell into her trap. He had been her prey all along.
And, it was wonderful. Amazing. Cataclysmic.
Your place or mine?
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