Pantyhose voyeur short story
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Even from the kitchen he could hear her come in, despite the noise of the storm. Or maybe because of it. As she opened the front door the rumble of thunder and the pounding of the rain became so much louder that it was obvious two rooms away. Both dogs immediately abandoned their vigil for falling morsels and raced to meet her.
He stepped out into the dining room, sandwich in hand, just as she forced the door closed against a fresh gust of wind, and greeted her through a mouthful of ham and cheese.
"Hey there!" he managed to croak out before swallowing. "I wasn't expecting you for another couple of hours."
She hung the old golf umbrella from the doorknob, where it could drip relatively harmlessly onto the tiled threshold. Pulling the band from her ponytail, she shook her hair out into a moist, golden fan which hung over her face as she bent to scratch two sets of floppy ears.
"Bob came in early and immediately started to do over everything I'd already done, so I thought it would be a good idea to get out of there before I killed him."
"Yeah, that probably was a good idea. Killing your boss could be a real problem. Although with Bob you almost certainly could make a case for justifiable homicide."
Straightening up, she came from the doorway to meet him as he walked into the living room. Abandoned, both animals instantly assumed their most injured expressions.
She crossed her arms over her chest as they came together and leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her after quickly perching the once-bitten sandwich on the arm of the sofa. This particular action was noticed and appreciated at once by the room's two other occupants.
"I'm cold, " she softly told his chest. "And I'm all wet."
"I don't care how wet you are," he declared, tightening his grip and adopting his most gallant tone of voice.
She lifted her head and focused a pair of brillliant blue eyes on the pale, myopic, green ones that sheltered behind his glasses.
"You mean you really don't care that we're here together and I'm all wet?" she smiled slyly.
The implication of the innuendo took almost an entire second to pierce the customary clutter in his conscious mind before understanding finally emerged.
"Oh! Oh, yeah!" he nodded, the smile he'd worn since first catching sight of her now broadening out to the farthest corners of his face.
In return she gave him a smile of her own, one that might have been what they had in mind when they wrote the definition of "sultry."
"Maybe you can think of something else we could do instead of standing here while I shiver and drip?"
"Well," he replied, wrinkling his expanding forhead in mock concentration. "I guess I can come up with something."
Their lips came together. At first it was a soft, gentle tasting, but this lasted less than a minute. Easily they moved from playful nibbling to serious tongue-wrestling. Her hands slid downthe front of him to the hem of the old t-shirt he wore and slipped underneath to knead the warm, bare skin of his chest, enjoying the feel of the layers of muscle he persistenly denied he had. He stroked her back, lightly drawing his fingertips along her spine until he could slip his hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Gripping both cheeks of her ass through the damp denim, he pulled her in tight. She had no problem feeling the evidence of his growing excitement and sighed appreciatively into his mouth before coming up for some air.
"Is this what you've decided to come up with?" she teased, snaking a hand down between them to trace a determined pattern on the outside of his sweats.
"Yep!" he laughed. "Although I can't honestly say it involved any deliberate decision on my part."
"Well," she said, shifting her gaze from his face down to where exploratory stroking had become dedicated groping. "It's certainly an impressive effort for an improvisation."
"Thank-you, kind lady," he bowed his head and then gently took both her hands in his. "We always aim to please."
She brought his hands up to her lips and planted a featherlike, moist kiss on the back of each one.
"I guess whether or not I'm pleased depends on what you decide to aim at."
The exchange of entendre ended with another kiss that took several moments to conlude. Then, still clasping her hands in both of his, he lead her through the crowded maze of furniture to the bedroom. As they passed through the doorway, he stretched out a foot, hooking a corner of the door and closing it behind them.
Past experience had demonstrated clearly that a cold, wet nose inserted at an inappropriate moment could ruin all their best efforts.
He had to release her hands in order to cradle her face in both of his. Tracing the line of her jaw with his tumbs, he placed a string of kisses across her forehead. He stopped, smiling, when he saw that she'd closed her eyes, just as she always did.
"I love you."
She opened her eyes to regard him seriously for a moment, but the customary mischief soon reappeared.
"I certainly hope so, considering what I hope is about to happen here real soon."
"Whatever do you mean?" he feigned. "Didn't we come in here to play Trivial Pursuit?"
"Not quite," she responded. "Nothing I intend to pursue is the least bit trivial."
They were both smiling broadly now, enjoying a feeling of synchronization that neither had ever enjoyed with another.
He gathered her tightly into his arms once again, pressing her lips with his for a second before parting his. Her mouth opened, welcoming his tongue as it explored the insides of her lips. Moaning softly, he soon went between her teeth. Echoing him, she opened wider and met his tongue with hers. Their tongues played tag until his darted back into his mouth. She followed it, giving him the opportunity to suck on it gently.
She pulled back at last to take a deep breath and favor him with a very direct look.
"Okay, I think clothing just became optional here."
"Definitely."
She was wearing the cardigan her mother had knitted for her when she was in high school. He unbuttoned each of the little pearl buttons with an exaggerated care, occasionally slipping one or two fingers into the folds of the sweater to quickly stroke a patch of bare skin whenever it was revealed. Releasing the last button, he slipped the sweater off her shoulders until it caught at her elbows.
Today's choice of undergarments clearly indicated that, at least subconsiously, she had been thinking ahead to a moment like this. Her bra was fashioned from teal silk and black lace and it didn't cover or support her so much as it offered her breasts up for his inspection. He rested his hands on her hips while he bent his head to accept the offer, scattering a random array of kisses across the top of each breast and tracing the lace adornment of each cup with the warm, moist tip of his tongue. Pausing, he looked up at her from the corner of his eye while he brought one hand up to lie in her cleavage.
"It's always so much nicer when you wear one that opens in front."
She smiled, opening the eyes she'd closed with the first touch of his mouth on her breast, and ran the fingers of both hands through his hair.
"I'm so glad you like it."
"Oh, I do. Very much."
The hand in her cleavage moved just a fraction, and the bra was soon hanging from her elbows as well.
He slid his hands to the undersides of her breasts, stroking the curving line where each one joined her chest. He licked up to the crest of her right breast before taking the nipple in his mouth. A gentle suction on her nipple made it pulse with her heart beat and strain outward. He nibbled across the valley and gave her his atention until it reached a similar condition. Then he kissed the bottom of that breast followed by a trail of kisses down her belly and dipped his tongue into her bellybutton. She squirmed almost involuntarily, but he held her butt to keep her against his lips.
"Hey, that tickles!"
"It's supposed to. Now, hold still."
He unsnapped and unzipped her jeans, sliding them over her hips, thighs and calves until they lay around her feet. Her panties were a black silk thong that she'd only worn once before that he knew of, on the night he'd given them to her.
"Like the pretty panties?"
"O-o-o-h, y-e-s-s-s!"
He lifted each of her feet in turn, slipping the jeans and the sandals she wore off her feet and tossing the damp bundle off into a corner. He devoted several of the next few minutes to softly stroking the backs of her calves and insides of her thighs while his lips and tongue enthusiastically investigated just exactly what the "pretty panties" did and did not conceal. Finally, she grabbed his head with both her hands and tilted it firmly back.
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