Welcome to another episode of bedtime Stories with Salty Vixen. Tonight’s story is titled “Comprehension” . Are you ready for Pillow Talk? After all, it is the witching hour and it is time to listen to my voice, my voice that turns you on whenever you listen to my stories.
Are my stories about you? Or are they just fantasies that come from the naughty Salty Vixen mind? You know that you created me, your plaything, your virtual mistress and I love being there for you. Yes, baby, you know how much I love to turn you on with my words
Now it is time is time to turn off the lights and put your hands on your beautiful cock, yes, rub it for me, up and down. I want to imagine you jerking off to the sound of my voice, will you do that, please?
Are you ready for Salty Vixen’s Pillow Talk at the witching hour? Oh I know you do… let’s begin
He is tall and soft-spoken; well, when he speaks. He makes me quiet when I am around him. When we were in the elevator together I had to tear my eyes away from the outline of his cock against his pants. His body is beautiful - and perfect.
His eyes are blue; his hair is brown with a touch of gray. He has most of it, which is unusual for someone his age. I am certain that he has no idea what I am thinking as I watch him. He doesn't know how much
I want to taste his lips, to smell him, to feel his arms around me. No, he can't imagine what I'm thinking. I reach out to touch him, softly, on the arm. He looks surprised but he smiles slightly. I look into his eyes as I rest my hand on his forearm. His arm is so much stronger than mine. My hand looks frail against him.
He doesn't move, carefully waiting to see where I go. My left hand traces a line down the breast of his shirt, teasing a button on the way down. He inhales; I feel his chest expand. He exhales slowly as my hand moves with his breathing. We are still for a moment like that, our bodies finding their own concert even while we are hesitant.
My right hand moves up timidly to stroke the skin of his upper arm. His beautiful blue eyes hold his smile as he bends to touch his lips to mine. He kisses me sweetly and our bodies move closer together. His lips are soft at first, but my need begins to overtake me and I am less sweet in my response. My lips part as he presses down; his tongue seeks mine.
My hands have moved around to feel his back. He is incredibly strong; I feel his muscles under the fabric of his shirt as he enfolds me in his arms. I have lost the sense of where we are - his kisses are all that I know in this moment. My hands move down his back to his waist; his move from my back to my sides, brushing against my double-d breasts.
I am whimpering from want now. He strokes one nipple through my blouse and I break from his kiss to look at him. His eyes glitter - he is in want now, too. He reaches to my skirt and pulls it up so he can touch my thigh. This is awkward - we don't have many options in this small office. He will not be denied, though. He lifts me onto the bookcase and kisses me. His hands unbutton my blouse and dispense with what's underneath.
I lean against the wall and drop my shoes to the floor as he lowers his mouth to my breast. He is slow and paying careful attention as his lips and tongue work their way over my breasts. He suckles my nipples while he hitches my skirt up. My hand reaches for him - I so want to touch him. He chuckles because I can't reach him, teasing me. "Plenty of time for that," he whispers.
He kneels below me and his hands explore my thighs. He discovers that my dark hose end at my thigh and laughs delightedly. He doesn't pull them off - he just pushes my legs apart and strokes the wet spot on my panties. He grins and looks up at me. "You're wet down here," he says playfully. He reaches for the scissors on his desk with a glint in his eye. I recoil in mock fear and he laughs. "Don't worry," he says, "I know what I'm doing."
The scissors disappear beneath my skirt and I feel them carefully cut away the cloth. The scissors and tatters of cloth come out from under my skirt; his head returns to where they were. He doesn't let me see what he's doing, using the edge of my skirt to cover his wanton activity. His tongue flicks against my clit and teases my cunt; I am streaming wet and weak with want.
After he has finished playing he reappears. He is less playful now; I can see that in his eyes. He rises before me and locks my gaze as I hear his zipper. He pulls me forward slightly; my breathing is shallow and I can't take my eyes from his. He glides all the way inside me in one stroke.
He continues to watch me as he uses those powerful legs to satisfy his need. He holds my legs and fucks me slowly. I can't believe his control. My orgasm starts to overtake me and I clamp down on his privates. He thrusts inside me, harder now.
His breathing comes in gasps and his lips are parted. He jams his cock all the way inside me and I see that look of pleasure mixed with pain on his face. His cum warms me, fills me. As always, my cunt celebrates his orgasm; I orgasm in applause at making him cum. I lean against the wall and close my eyes. Surely now he knows what I was thinking.
