Page 22 of Menotte avec toi

Her cheeks pinked as her flesh was revealed, her shyness surfacing as her body was bared. She stepped free of the clothing that lay at her feet and slid out of her summery sandals as I took her hand and led her over to the full length mirror I’d spotted in her room. I stood behind her, my fingertips danced along her sides, and slid her long, ginger locks to one side. My lips touched the exposed skin on her neck in barely there kisses as I whispered, “Keep your eyes open, Kitten. I want you to watch us. Want you to see how beautiful you are when I make you come.”

Nervously, her head bounced, easily agreeing with me. “Good girl.” My fingertips continued mapping her flesh, along her torso, around her breasts and erect nipples. “You’re gorgeous beyond words.” She began to shy away, that uncertainty from earlier returning. “No, my pet, keep your eyes on the mirror. I want you to see the same beautiful, brilliant woman that I do.”

With every touch, every caress, the familiar goosebumps surfaced. Goddess, how I ate up the reaction she had to me. “Spread your legs for me, Kitten.” Our reflection in the mirror, another I wished to have a camera at the ready for. My naked princess against my fully dressed body. A sign of trust. Sonnet trusted me and that was a heady feeling.

“Remember this and paint this for me one day. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yes, my Mistress,” Sonnet purred as my finger slid over her clit and between her legs.

“I’ve never seen anything as lovely as you, my Kitten.”

“Mmm,” was all I received in return.

My perfect pet was so wet, my finger easily slid between her folds and inside. One hand pinched and tweaked a nipple while the other fingered her. As Sonnet reached the apex, a single thought consumed me.

I had to taste her again.

She pouted as my fingers withdrew until I pressed them to her lips. “Taste yourself.” Her reflection made eye contact with mine as she sucked my fingers clean. “Fuck, that’s hot. I’ve got to taste you.” Her pupils dilated as I knelt before her.

“Watch us, Kitten. Commit your every reaction to memory.” One day I may request a portfolio of my own to draw from and reflect upon whenever we’re apart. A sensual collection of our expressions while passion built and toppled over the edge.

I tasted every inch of my ginger kitten's flesh. From her ankles to her thighs before my tongue slid inside. The titillation of her essence, the sweetest taste on my tongue, nibbling her clit between her riding my tongue. “That’s it, Kitten. Take what you need from your mistress but keep your eyes open and glued to the mirror.”

“Yes, yes, M-m-mistress.”

“That’s my good girl. Now I’m going to eat that pussy that’s so wet and wanton for me. Don’t hold back, I want to hear every sound that comes from you while I enjoy what’s mine.” My tongue circled her clit, drawing the swollen nub inside. Nibbling elicited the sexiest fucking moans from her. Sonnet’s knees wobbled. I gripped one of her thighs to steady her as two fingers of my free hand slid inside.

The dual sensations had her chasing a high just out of reach. Does she ride my fingers or focus on my mouth? It only served to intensify and draw out the ultimate orgasms when stimulating a partner in multiple ways. Every inch of their body felt it and they soundly slept afterwards. I saw it reflected in my girl’s hazel eyes, she hadn’t slept a wink since she’d left my bed. Her creative intuition ran her life, but now her mistress was here to give her brain and her body the calm it sought.

Ride me, sweet girl,I thought to myself and immediately pictured her tied to the bed while I filled her with the large silicone strap-on I had. A dual sensation unit, the phallus buried deep inside a lover while the wearer had an orgasm-stimulating portion inside them. The brilliantly devious minds of those who created adult toys never ceased to amaze me.

“Mistress.” Harper firmly gripped my hair and rode my fingers as she moaned the moniker and came, hard, nearly collapsing as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. I guided her over to the bed and quickly retrieved my phone, snapping endless pictures of my sated Kitten. She rolled on her side, eyes barely open, and shyly grinned.

Muse.Sonnet may’ve said I inspired hers, but she was now mine. My reason to exist and the entire reason why there was only one I sought to please.

And based upon her smile, pleased is exactly what I’d just accomplished.

I mussed the sheets, draping one across her chest with barely a sliver of nipple peeking out. “So beautiful,” and took more shots. The curve of her hip, leg drawn forward covering her pelvis. I moved her leg back, presenting that special place I’ve had the pleasuring of becoming intimately familiar with. What a picture that was, from her belly button to her thighs.

“There isn’t a spot on your body I don’t love.” Even her feet, even though I’d not mention that. Foot fetish wasn’t my scene,but every inch of this woman was perfect. “Roll on your stomach, please, and arch your back. I ran my hand along her spine as she settled in, down over her cheeks, and took a picture with it rested there.Pride of ownership, I mentally labeled this one. I yearned to collar my girl, though we weren’t in that type of relationship.

Was it possible to fall in love this fast?

“Mistress,” Sonnet reached for me. “I need to take care of you.”

“Sweet Kitten, you’ve done more for me than you know.”

“Please?” She shot me the most adorable pouty face. “Undress and lay with me.”

Who was I to deny that request? Wrapped up, flesh on flesh with my Kitten. I’d be a fool to deny her anything.

“This is nice.” Sonnet cuddled up in my arms as soon as I lay down.

I pressed my lips to her head, drawing in the honey and lavender scent of her shampoo. “I agree. It’s been lonely in bed alone this week.” One night, on the verge of two and I spoke as though we’d lived together for years, and she’d merely been away on business.

How quickly the human brain fixates on desire, and not necessarily one of sexual desires but more of need. If need could be considered a desire. Had I harbored a hidden desire to find a partner and ignored my inner monologue? Hell, had I even allowed myself such thoughts since Simon and I divorced? Likely not.

It’s like I completely shut down. No emotions. Every erotic interlude was merely a series of motions, an end to satisfy a need and nothing more. Jesus, when did I forget how to feel? I sincerely hoped past partners didn’t see me as the cold woman I had become because that truly wasn’t who I sought to be.

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