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Subject: {ASSM} Summer Dances
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Date: Thu, 10 Jul 2008 20:10:03 -0400
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This work is copyrighted to the author (C) 2008.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Summer Dances
by Tharkad (clothauthor@gmail.com)


***

A late evening dance turns into a fun romp for a pair of high society
types. First in a possible series of installments.(mf, bj, cloth)

Authors Note: I'm just breaking into this and I'd love some more
ideas. I've always found women's clothing sexy and I'm trying to find
more and more ways to mix it into the action.

***
	It had been a long night, yet the evening was still full of promise.
The ball had been far less stuffy than had been expected and
invigorated you. The air was sweet, and warm on your shoulders. You
can hear the crickets chirping as you take to the floor for one last
final dance before you leave.

	Heady with just a little too much excitement and more than one
cocktail has left you whirling round the dance floor without a
thought. Spinning and twirling you feel the silk of your satin of your
skirt hem swish against the sheer stockings that cling.

	 You spend a moment to gaze into those gorgeous green eyes that are
across from you, watching as his straight brown hair falls about his
face, and the wicked grin he gives you as he sends you off in yet
another series of complicated twirls, before pulling you back into his
tight hold.

	Finally the music ends, and your partner drops you over his arm in a
dip that leaves you gasping for air and thrilled beyond belief, as
once more a shiver of excitement shoots up your spine all the way to
the tip of your head. Bending down he kisses you, and you can't help
yourself but kiss this gorgeous man back. In a warm fury you lose
yourself in his arms and his kiss, you can feel the energy spreading
from your core. Long before your satisfied the kiss breaks and you
realize you've held it for a little longer than was decent.

	Returning you to your feet, you break your gaze. "My name's Peter."
Your parter confesses. He says as he takes your hand and leads you off
the dance floor.

	"The ball appears to be ending Peter, but I don't think we need to
call it an evening. Perhaps you would join me back at my place for a
nightcap? That is if I'm not being too forward" you respond.

	"I think I really would enjoy that miss. It's a beautiful night, why
shouldn't I spend it with beautiful company. Shall we take your car or
mine."

	"Your's I suppose, I think I've had far too much to drink. Even the
stars seem to be spinning tonight."

	You place your hand on the proffered elbow as he escorts you to the
valet. Your tall patent leather heels making a sharp "Click-Clack" on
each paver on the terrace. You arrive at the valet, and a man dressed
all in crushed red velvet, black vest and trousers, and a row of
silver engraved buttons takes your impromptu dates key check and goes
to fetch his car.

	You look over at Peter and take your first real good look at the man
escorting you home. Despite the well fitted tuxedo it's a little hard
to tell what he looks like. Men's clothes do such a good job at hiding
their bodies. You can see that he's fit, broad shouldered, well
muscled in the upper arms, and you can tell he's got an ass you could
bounce a quarter off of which you could bounce a quarter.

	Just about then the valet pulls up with a gorgeous car. A bright
silver BMW, throaty and sexy it sits revving as Peter tips the valet.
Peter takes 30 seconds to drop the top before opening the door for
you. Stepping in the slit of your skirt runs so high up your leg as to
briefly show off the tops of your stockings and one of the clips from
your garter belt before you can smooth your dress and sit down in the
passenger seat.

	Peter moves around the front of the car with a dignified grace of
someone who never hurries, but yet whose time is always in high
demand. A kind of self-important prowl that just says, don't waste my
time. I'm worth too much, before getting in as the driver. Revving the
engine twice he pulls out of the parking lot of the chateau.

	You get a heady rush of excitement from the acceleration, the full
moon, the sweet warm air, and the nice gentleman beside you. You can't
help yourself but get giddy over this evening, you've absolutely no
intention of letting him slip out after the nightcap, even though you
suspect he's the nice enough sort who might actually try and go home.
You're looking forward to taking him upstairs and wrapping yourself in
his warm embrace.

	Suddenly you find the car slowing, although you're no where near your
place. Peter pulls the car off the road into a small grassy clearing,
broken only by a few trees. The grass stands tall here around knee
hight. Peter turns to you and says "I wonder if I could beg just one
more dance out of you miss. You were so absolutely wonderful the last
time." Looking around you, and between the warm summer air, the full
moon, the beautiful man standing before you, and a martini or 2 still
kicking around in your system you let peter help you out of the car.

	Softly humming a waltz beneath his breath he takes dances with you
close. Stepping forward, back, twirling you out and pulling you back
in, when you realize you're having an incredibly hard time
concentrating on the dance. While he's warm and firm and an excellent
lead. The grass as it slides over your stockings is driving you mad.
It's as if you had a hundred fingers imperceptibly running over your
skin all at once.

	This time when the music runs out he kisses you, but the passion is
much more intense, and far less proper. Your tongues touch briefly at
first, and then hungrily. Swirling around each other like milk and
coffee mixing. Your passion burst hotter and hotter, your hands moving
up behind the double breasted satin jacket, as you get ready to slide
it off his shoulders. He starts kissing down your neck. Slow gentle
kisses alternating with tiny gentle nips. Your breathing grows heavy
and the excitement builds inside you.

	Suddenly he stops you, raises you erect again, and says "lets finish
this somewhere a little more private. " You glance down and notice
that you're not the only thing that's been raised erect at this point.
You're quite pleased at what you've managed to catch a glimpse.

	The rest of the drive home is uneventful if full of suspense. Every
moment that passes leaves you wanting him more. Finally you pull up to
the gate and wait as it grinds laboriously open. You continue up the
long drive to the house and park the car outside. You open your door
and get out and hurriedly, almost running dart to the front door.
"Click-click-click-click". You fumble with your keys in your
excitement as you try and get the front door open. Peter has put the
top back on the BMW and closed your door by the time you finally get
the door open.

	"Now how about that night cap you promised me?" He looks at you
slyly, now he knows he's got you in his hand and he's enjoying teasing
you. Playing with you and drawing this out. You're excited since you
sense none of its sadistic. He's going to draw out of you every last
iota of pleasure he can, leaving you spent mind, body, and soul before
the night is out.

	"And what are you drinking tonight Peter?" as you start to the
kitchen on the hard marble floors. "Click-clack".

	"I'll take Blackberry brandy if you've got it, otherwise I'm drinking
single-malt scotch neat."

	"I've got your brandy, I'll be back in a second I just need to run to
the wine cellar." "Click-Clack-Click-Clack" go her heels as you head
for the cellar.

	Returning with Peter's brandy and a nice bottle of port. You
practically skip back to Peter who has made himself comfortable on the
couch in your sitting room. Rapidly pouring the brandy and mixing
another martini you slide along the leather couch in your satin dress,
to rest in the crook of Peter's shoulder. Careful to expose as much
thigh as you can, and just a hint of the top of your stockings while
you're at it. The pair of you sit on the couch talking and laughing
for what feels forever, and really amounts to 2 or 3 brandies and
another 2  martinis.

	You finally can't stand playing coy anymore. You swing your leg over
Peters lap, playfully grab his tie and pull him to your mouth and kiss
him with all the fire you can muster. All that sexual tension that's
been building for the past couple of hours you discharge in that one
kiss. Your tongues dance a fire-devils tango and you get lost in each
others arms. His arms are strong around you, yet comforting no sense
of threat. You feel his chest pressed firmly against your breast and
you can feel his warm breath on your cheek when you take 30 seconds to
break the kiss.

	You finally slide your hands behind his back and lift his triple
button tuxedo jacket free from him. Peter has been kissing down your
shoulders, you breath a quick sigh to the goddess of strapless dresses
as he sets you on fire. A delightfully torturous tingle from every
kiss, raising the hight of your passion. You yelp as a fingertip
starts tracing circles on your ankle and slowly makes its way up your
leg.

	It's not often that you're the one who needs it so bad that they're
ready to jump the other party but tonight you're so excited you'd take
a pair of shears to what must be a $3000 tuxedo. You're fiddling with
the buttons on his vest while that blasted finger keeps slowly tracing
circles up your thigh. They'd be infuriating if it weren't for the
stockings, but there is something about that layer of material being
there that just makes them drive you absolutely up the wall. You're
already fully aroused and you're still fully clothed, not that, that
will take long to be rectified.

	You get his vest undone and his tuxedo shirt undone, and you take
them off of him leaving him in nothing but a ribbed A top. He's got
muscles but he's not a iron pumping hulk. By now you're breathing
heavy as his fingertips have reached the top of your stockings and are
getting very close to touching your actual thighs. God you've wanted
him since you saw him at that dance.

	"Why don't you join me and make yourself a little more comfortable."
Peter says. So you tear yourself away and start by unzipping your
black satin sleeveless dress down. You figure you've got your chance
to get a little revenge. Slowly, very slowly you lower the zipper as
you slide your body down. Peter takes the opportunity to kick off his
shoes, and unfasten his suspenders, tossing them to the corners of the
room.

	As you slide the black satin dress down over your body you shiver as
it rubs against your silk stockings. You've always loved the way silk
feels when it rubs against satin. As the satin pools around your feet
you step clear clad in nothing but your strapless black lace bra,
black lace garter belt sheer black stockings and those high patent
leather heels.

	Peter gives a whistle worthy of a construction worker, in his obvious
aprovement. You look down at Peter sitting there in his boxers and
shirt, socks still held on by suspenders and are also pleased. Once
again you climb on top of him and kiss him hard. He rolls you over and
kisses you back as you both lower yourselves down onto the couch.

	You run your hands along his muscles, firmly. Enjoying the sensation
of power underneath them. His fingers play lightly along your
collarbone. Tracing the shape of the bone underneath and swirling off
into ripples of insane pleasure. Your hands move down his back and
smack his ass quickly, just to confirm that you could indeed bounce a
quarter off of it.

	His hands trace down over your breasts, first gently running over
them, sending light bolts of electricity radiating outwards from your
nipples, and then more firmly, down to your groin as you get more
excited. The kisses on your neck are driving you wild.

	Your hands fiddle with the fly on Peter's boxers and greedily you
reach in and pull out his hardon. You look at it greedily, it's just
the way you like it. Not too long or to wide that it hurts, but wide
enough that it's going to make for a GREAT evening. You start to
stroke it as his hands worm their way down from your breasts, down
your stomach and start flitting between your thighs, just above your
stocking tops.

	Peter has you moaning aloud now. You drop to you knees in front of
him, enjoying the slight pull on your garter belt as you hit the
floor. You slip your mouth over the tip of his penis and start to
slowly suck him, looking up at Peter through your eyelashes. You can
see him breath a sigh of extacy. Taking one hand you start to gently
massage his testicles, while pumping him in and out of your mouth. It
feels good to be in control once again. Yet you can tell his
attentions on you are waining.

	Peter has finally gotten riled up, you can see it in his eyes.
There's now a feral passion in his eyes. You pushes you down on the
ground and presses his body weight against you. You love the feeling
of temporarily helpless.

	Peter takes his time slowly entering you. Gently, he just eases his
way in as if he was really making love to his wife. You're almost
ready to scream with pleasure as you feel every inch of yourself being
filled. When Peter is all the way inside you, you wrap those stocking
clad thighs around his waist and start rocking your hips, enjoying the
sensation as Peter stretches you gently. You place a finger on your
clitoris and you go mad, after just a few seconds you finally can't
take it anymore and that plateau that you've been hovering on pretty
much since you drove home, you finally crest over

	Screaming you dig your nails into Peter's back as your pelvic muscles
contract, gripping firmly Peter's erection deep inside you. As soon as
Peter feels you relax, he picks up the pace. This time its a  firm,
and forceful rhythm picking speed and power with every stroke.

	You moan with every stroke and feel within yourself that passion
building. The excitement cresting again, and once again you scream out
loud in extacy as you climax.

	Peter flips you over onto your stomach now. Your breasts crushed
against the marble floor, and he comes at you from behind, gentle,
forceful, but unrelenting. Suddenly you feel the pressure that each
stroke places on your clitoris and you start having orgasm after
orgasm and Peter simply doesn't let up. He keeps going and going,

	Despite the fact that he's got you on your stomach your legs start
quivering in exhaustion. You feel another climax coming on but this
ones different, it's huge. You climax so hard you actually pass out.
The pleasure has just finally reached that level. Yet he keeps going,
riding you firm hard and relentlessly.

	Finally you feel something change, you feel him tense up a little,
and on the next thrust you feel him go off deep side of you, filling
you with all of his cum. He pulls out and asks you to do something
kinda odd. He asks you to lift your hips, as he slides underneath you
and licks as much of his own juice out of you as he can.

You're exhausted, you've pasted out at least once, you've got a spent
man happily wrapping his arms around you and nothing at all to do till
tomorrow when he takes you to get  your car.

The only question remaining is, can you convince him to stay
tomorrow.....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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