Page 47 of Mayfair Madame
I made my way through her apartment until I reached her bedroom. She stood in front of the window, her naked body silhouetted against the bright sunlight streaming through.
Fuck, but she was magnificent. How had I got so lucky?
She smiled wickedly and beckoned me to her. I dropped the towel.
Yes, I was still anxious, but it was time to tuck my insecurities away, for today at least.
She was statuesque, her dark skin smooth, her form graceful. The slope of her breasts and erect nipples outlined against the window. She was nothing like my lumbering body.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment,” she said, “seeing you before me, baring every part of you to me, body and soul.”
Her words were as beautiful as she was.
Everything I had was hers. She was free to take it, and as much as my head said no, my heart screamed yes. I wanted this as much as she did.
Instead of approaching her, I walked to the bed. The room was like no other I’d seen. Huge picture windows along one wall, light curtains hiding us from view. Two steps led to her imposing bed, with white covers and many, many pillows.
The entire room was white from the carpet to the walls to the wooden furniture scattered around the room. A huge armchair stood in the corner facing the bed, Did someone sit in it and watch her as she made love? Or did she watch them? The thought intrigued me.
A tingle spread through me. I’d wanted her last night, my desire almost driving me to do what I’d not normally do, but my anxiety at what she might say about my body had held me back.
But the events of today had changed that. I might still be nervous, but I’d no longer hide.
I lay down on her bed, propped up on the pillows, trying my best to ignore the extra layers of fat I carried.
Words eluded me, so enamoured was I by her beauty. Except the word didn’t seem enough. Exquisite, alluring, sensual, sexy. Words to describe the woman now walking towards me, her brown eyes wide.
My breath hitched, anticipation flooding every part of me. I wanted her so badly.
Perfect tits swayed as she crawled up the bed, every inch of her flawless body tempting me.
Taut muscles flexed with every movement, and I reached for her, desperate to touch her.
She knelt before me, gazing at my parted legs, my bald pussy in full view.
“Oh, now that’s just perfect,” she said, her voice low and husky, seducing me.
She ran her hands along my thighs, spreading me farther, her thumbs rubbing the sensitive flesh.
My instinct was to close them, but lust won out. I wanted this as much as she did.
She parted my lips and bent her head, her tongue only an inch away from the most delicate part of me.
“Hmm, you smell so damn good, Ellie Sharpe.” I quivered as her warm breath ghosted across my skin, and when she licked me, I almost shot off the bed.
I gripped the sheets as she devoured me. It had been so long since I’d been touched like this. I’d missed it. But I wanted more.
“Naomi,” I said, my breath coming in pants.
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
How could I tell her what I desired when I didn’t know what that was? I arched my back, encouraging her to delve deeper.
“Fuck me, Naomi. With your fingers, your tongue, I don’t care what.”
She pressed her nose against my clit and slipped her tongue inside me. I bucked on the bed, eager for more.
I wanted to touch her, feel the softness of her skin. I ran my hands along her arms and linked my hands with hers, no longer caring that she could see all of me.
