Feminine Seduction

By AfroerotiK
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AfroerotiK

 

Conversation, along with drinks and laughter, flowed freely that evening. Unfortunately, so did the rain outside of Dante’s Restaurant on the night that Angela and I decided to have a business dinner. Angela Dennis is the very competent owner of a Black greeting card company and she contracts me out occasionally to write for her. We bonded, I think, because our backgrounds are so similar. We were both from New York, both were raised by our grandparents, same age, and with parallel experiences in life. But there was so much more to the relationship that she and I shared than just employer and employee. There was an ever so subtle and never discussed attraction simmering underneath the surface between us. I had just recently made my attraction to her known but I was very clear that I wouldn’t do anything to make any advances unless the feeling was mutual. My feelings towards her even caught me off guard, sneaking up on me after she had comforted me about a love gone awry. Nine out of ten times, when I had previously revealed my affections to another woman, my feelings sort of dissipated. I guess she was lucky contestant number ten because not only had my feelings not gone away after my revelation, they grew stronger with each subsequent communication. Angela on the other hand was not comfortable with the idea of same gender intimacy but reluctantly admitted that she remained curious as to the type of thoughts that I harbored for her. I had always wondered, and hoped, if her curiosity arose out of desires she would not allow herself to admit.

One would have thought it was monsoon season in Sri Lanka the way the rain was coming down outside. With business discussions finalized, we sat and shared what was typical of our dynamic, intimate conversation that spanned many topics: relationships with men, dreams, fears, politics, race, religion . . . whatever topic came up, we seemed to ease into it with much passion and intellect. The elements had us trapped inside the restaurant much to the delight of the male customers and employees. There we were, two beautiful, sophisticated, extraordinarily sexy women chatting, laughing, and engaged in a sensual exchange even if it was tenuous and discrete. Me, being the more brazen of the pair, loved the attention men gave us and played up the dynamic. I would lean close to her and whisper in her ear for effect, or place my hand gently on the small of her back to create the effect of an intimate coupling. It was a complete rush for me to see the envious stares of male onlookers wondering if we were lovers. Angela, not unaware of the effect that we were having on the surrounding men, allowed me to get away with my innocent flirtations. Perhaps it was the wine, the rain, the lustful stares but I suspect that Angela actually was beginning to enjoy the tender caresses to her shoulder, her thigh, and I surely felt electricity between the two of us whenever I entered her personal space.

The rain showed no signs of letting up and the proprietors of the restaurant showed no mercy for their lingering customers. It was past time to close, they wanted to go home, and they were kicking us all out. Knowing full well that Angela was not interested in an intimate relationship with me, I stepped up to the plate. “Listen Angela, I only live upstairs. I don’t want you driving in this weather. I would feel much more comfortable if you came to my place and waited until the rain lets up. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable so just know that I won’t do anything at all to you . . . unless you want me to.” I couldn’t help but add that last phrase because honestly I craved intimacy with this woman so deeply and I knew there was chemistry between us. How could there not be? We had so much in common it was frightening. I was not in the habit however of trying to molest, attack, or convert anyone from their sexual preferences. My own insecurities are such that I need there to be a mutual attraction that is open and honest before I can even contemplate making an advance on a woman. Additionally, no amount of wine in the world could cause me to say or do something that would destroy the friendship I shared with Angela. I can easily get other jobs but the communication I share with Angela is far too valuable to me to blow on overactive hormones.

Apparently, Angela felt the sincerity of my invitation and accepted. Even with an umbrella, we both got soaked in the thirty yards or so it took to get to the front door. “Would you like to put some dry clothes on, I can put your clothes in the dryer?” I wished I didn’t have to make such an offer but I was only being polite because we really were soaking wet. It was almost painful for me when she was in my bathroom changing. I had fantasized many nights about her being here, but the circumstances were much different. In my fantasies, she had confessed to me that she wanted to explore the feelings she had for me, sexual and intimate feelings. The reality of the situation was that she was only in my apartment, half naked, because it was practically a hurricane outside. When she emerged from the bathroom she was nothing less than breathtaking. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail and she was wearing my Victoria’s Secret robe. (I made a mental note to buy a baby doll nightie then and there lest she ever be in a situation where she had to spend the night and needed something to sleep in. Hey, I wouldn’t touch her but why not feed my fantasies in the interim?) I changed into a wrap sarong and white button down, comfortable and it covered everything so I didn’t look like I was trying to seduce her. I was just about to make some hot water for some tea when, as fate would have it, the electricity went out.

I scrambled to light a few candles and we settled down on the sofa, wet clothes now hanging in the bathroom. The rain falling against the window and the occasional clap of thunder was our only soundtrack. One of the things I loved so about Angela was her unwavering confidence. It was only a little bit more than obvious that she had been hurt by life a few times too many and that had caused her to put up this wall around her emotions, but it fit her well. Part of her charm and part of my attraction to her was because of the fact that she was determined, focused and methodical. It made her that much more sexy to me that she could navigate the world with the cool reserve of a man and be so incredibly beautiful at the same time. Truth of the matter is, I don’t think she has a clue as to how beautiful she really is. She’s just one of those women that used her brain to establish herself, not her looks. How sexy is that? She didn’t however display the same level of confidence when it came to discussing my attraction to her. In fact, it seemed to make her so nervous that it was atypical of her behavior. I had always wanted her to ask me questions about my sexuality so we could get things out in the open but she never took the initiative and I never pushed up. So there we were, bathed in candlelight, trapped by the elements, with nothing to do but talk.

I tried not to stare at the brown skin of her legs that were exposed to me for the very first time. Every time I had seen her previously, she was wearing pants. In my mind I was visualizing her under the robe, as I had done many times in the past, wearing just a bra and panties. In my mind, they were always comfortable Lady Hanes and an unassuming bra to house her delightfully small breasts. I always suspected that she preferred to go natural and my eyes surely must have wandered to see if I could see even the most telltale hint of hair peeking out from between her legs. I tried really hard not to be obvious in my gaze, of primary importance to me was in making her feel comfortable. My discomfort had to be a little bit more than obvious but as long as she pretended not to notice, I was going to go along with the game plan. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes that we were sitting there before we had both relaxed and were facing each other on my couch. Angela had this unique ability to distract me from thoughts of intimacy with her sincere demeanor. Whenever, it seemed, that she and I engaged in conversation, it was the topic at hand that was always the primary focus.

Catching me totally off guard she asked, “Do you have any wine, I would love a glass?” I stumbled in the dark refrigerator for the bottle of Pinot Grigio that I had recently gotten and poured two glasses without much incident. I sipped my glass tentatively, knowing full well that I was already slightly tipsy and I didn’t want to lose control. My guest, on the other hand, drank her glass without much ado and didn’t refuse when I offered her another. I thought maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn that she moved just a little closer and that she was making every attempt to have her hand linger on my thigh when making a point in her conversation. For the very first time in our relationship I felt her let down her guard. She was more animated and sensual than I had ever seen her before. For the first time in our exchanges, she talked openly about her sexual desires. I thought perhaps that she was using the wine as an excuse to open up. I didn’t want to misread her actions.

“Angela, listen, I’ve been very up front with you about my attraction to you. I also told you very specifically that I wouldn’t do anything unless you wanted me to. I’d LOVE to give you pleasure tonight, over and over again as a matter of fact, but I’m not going to try to read your mind. If you want to explore a more intimate connection with me, you need to come out and tell me. It’s not fair to keep me guessing.”

She was flustered by my blunt nature and retreated back into her shell. “I’ll just go now. I didn’t mean to . . . I’m sorry. Maybe it’s best that I just leave now.” She made a quick retreat to the bathroom and came out wearing the damp clothing that had been hanging to dry.

I couldn’t let her leave with things unsaid and confusion in the air. “I’m afraid I’m the one that has to apologize. I sometimes just assume that everyone is as comfortable with their sexuality as I am with mine. I hope you can forgive me and that this incident won’t interfere with our friendship.”

She hesitated at the door. It was as if she was looking for an excuse not to leave. In that very instant I saw something in her eyes that I had never seen before. She was calling out to me from the very depths of her being to feel her essence. It all made sense in that very moment. She needed me as much as I needed her but didn’t have the mechanisms to tell me with words. She was afraid and trembling, dimly lit by the distant candles. I stepped closer to her and she backed into the door. I tilted her face to mine and I heard her breath as she gasped for air. In fact, her breathing was becoming erratic and her eyes showed signs of fear. I leaned in closer and our bodies touched. I placed my hands on her delicate waist and whispered in her ear, “Shhhh, relax. I don’t want you to go. I want you to spend the night with me. But I need you to say it, I need you to tell me that you want me to make love to you.”

Her hand fumbled for the door and I stepped back. I waited for her to turn the handle and walk out into the night. I waited even longer still. She let go of the door and whispered in a barely audible tone, “I want to stay.”

“What? I didn’t hear what you said,” I teased, “Can you repeat that?” She didn’t get the joke I guess and turned to leave, embarrassed and frustrated. I reached out and placed my hand on top of hers to prevent her from leaving. She froze in her tracks and I turned her towards me. I took her arms and placed them around me for support. I held her face tenderly in my hands and tasted the sweetness of her lips for the very first time. We kissed softly, tentatively, our lips touching as only two women can share intimacy. I pulled her body closer to me and kissed her more passionately, cognizant that if she pulled away I had overstepped my boundaries. She returned my kisses with fervor and passion, even allowing her hands to roam freely over my back. I pulled myself away long enough to take her by the hand and lead her to my bedroom.
I sat her at the foot of my bed and stood a few feet away. I unwrapped my sarong and let it fall to the floor, wearing only the white shirt that just barely covered my panties. I undid each button slowly, giving her time to voice her apprehensions and back out if she so desired. I felt so vulnerable standing before her because I felt more afraid than she did at that particular moment. This was the moment I had dreamt of for months and I wanted everything to be perfect. I kept my bra and panties on because I wanted her to know that this evening was about her, I didn’t want to scare her away making her think that I was going to demand that she do anything to me. In my fantasy, I pleased her repeatedly, all she had to do was lay back and enjoy.

Our eyes adjusted to the darkness and I knelt before her at the foot of the bed. I took off her shoes and placed them neatly under the bed. She lifted her arms like a little girl waiting for her mommy to undress her and let me remove her shirt over her head. I stood her in front of me and knelt before her to undo her pants and slide them down her body. Even though the temperature was warm she was trembling and shaking. I told her to lie down on the bed and I crawled over her body like a panther surveying its prey. Her arms were stretched out by her side and gripping the comforter for dear life. We kissed again, this time she was able to return my kiss even more passionately. I began my descent down her body with my mouth, baptizing her with sensual kisses. I covered her neck and throat with sensual kisses and she moaned in appreciation. I took an incredibly long time kissing and licking her down her arms and sucking her fingers. I undid the clasp of her bra and revealed her perfectly formed breasts to my vision. Her nipples were hard and aroused like two tiny pebbles waiting for my mouth to lick and suck them. Angela’s body was becoming more and more comfortable and she was responding to each touch with more enthusiasm. I brought my tongue to her left nipple and gently licked it and she let out a hiss . . . I licked the right one and she groaned. In fact, I spent the better part of a half hour licking, sucking and kissing on her nipples.

She kept saying, “Oh God, that feels so good, don’t stop.” The more aroused she got, the more I needed to give her more pleasure. It was apparent she was enjoying herself and I licked and kissed my way down her stomach. She had the most glorious goody trail of soft fine hair that I had ever seen that led to her sensual treasure. I let my mouth wander down to her legs and I spread her thighs enough to lick and kiss her there. I could smell her scent and her panties showed a very visible wet spot that betrayed her arousal. I aggressively turned her over on her stomach and began lavishing her back with kisses. I grabbed her ponytail and pulled it as I whispered in her ear that I was going to make her cum so many times she would pass out. She responded by grinding her ass on me and saying, “Fuck you.” I loved her fight and arrogance; it turned me on that much more. I slid my hand between her legs to gently rub her mound. I pulled her panties up in the crack of her ass and playfully spanked her, not too hard; gently, erotically. She was thrusting her ass up at me and telling me to do it harder at that point but I didn’t want her to think she was in control.

She was out of control with lust. All of her inhibitions had long since disappeared and she was insatiable. She wanted to experience every sensation she could. I turned her over on her back again and slid her panties down her thighs and off her legs. Now it was my turn to be overcome with lust. Her pussy was so fucking sexy it took my breath away. I spread her legs and stared at the center of her being in complete awe. Her lips were parted and swollen with arousal. Her clit was already peeking from its hood. She was so wet I could see her juices glistening even in the darkened room. Her smell was intoxicating. I inhaled her aroma over and over again, wanting to breathe it into my very essence. I held onto the last little bit of control I had left. “Angela, tell me you want this, tell me that you need me to make love to you. I need to hear you say it.”
She knew that she was in control at that point. In fact, she was getting off on the control she had over me. She was asserting herself again. “Mmmmmm, you know damn well that I want you to eat and lick and suck my wet pussy. Go ahead, make me cum with your mouth. That’s what you need. Stick your tongue in me, suck my clit, EAT MY PUSSY”
Her sexy talk pushed me over the edge. In fact, I almost came from hearing her being so open, so vocal about her desires. As much as I wanted to dive in and devour her pussy, I wanted to make it an experience that she would never forget. I took my fingers and gently spread her lips and started to gently lick on her exposed clit. She responded by grinding her pussy on my face, trying to get me to suck it harder. I put my fingers at the entrance to her pussy and she started grinding her hips trying to get me to finger her. “Damn you, stop being such a tease, finger me. Finger me the way I need you to.” The calm, reserved woman that I had secretly lusted after for months was now a primal beast in my bed. I reached down between my legs to stimulate my own needy clit but I couldn’t get too distracted. This vision of sensuality was lying in front of me and driving me crazy with desire.

I reached over to my nightstand and pulled out my vibrator and long-double-sided dildo. My intention was to ride it with her to indescribable waves of pleasure. My vibrator was glow in the dark pink and dainty, but packed a powerful punch. My double-sided dildo was as black as midnight, 18 inches long, and looked more like a weapon of mass destruction. I asked her if she wanted me to fuck her and she nodded through her haze of arousal, yes. I wanted to slow the pace down a little and prolong her pleasure so I turned her over again, this time placing her on her knees. I couldn’t resist the temptation to go down on her yet again and lick her from her pussy to her asshole. My face was covered in her juices and she was grinding her pussy back on my mouth, encouraging me to make her cum. Actually, she was pleading with me. She reached back with both hands and spread the cheeks of her ass, her head to the pillow and was practically chanting, “Eat me, fuck me, make me cum.” She was delirious and insane with lust.
I picked up the vibrator and placed it on her clit. She was so hot I thought she was going to explode. My previous objectives were lost in a haze of confusion and passion. Here she was, an exquisite representation of Black female beauty, wanton with lust in my bed. She belonged to me at that point. Her surrender was complete. I grabbed the dildo and started gently rubbing the head of it up and down her slit. It looked so sexy coated with her juices that I could hardly resist the temptation to suck it. I placed the head of it to her entrance and she rotated and thrust her hips trying to get me to penetrate her. The lust in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I gave her about an inch of dildo and she started cumming. I worked her pussy through her orgasm, licking her clit, fucking her with more of the dildo. By the time I had about seven inches in her she was having a string of multiple orgasms back to back. She collapsed on the bed, exhausted and drained.

I climbed on the bed next to her and held her in my arms. She rolled on top of me and kissed me full on the mouth. “Thank you,” she breathed. I wanted to ask her why she was thanking me but I sort of understood. She nestled her naked, sweaty body against mine and drifted off to sleep. I lay there watching her sleep as the rain gently fell against the window. We would fall back into our normal roles in the morning, or perhaps we wouldn’t. I contemplated all that would become of us as I stared at her glistening brown skin and smelled her sex heavy in the air. Indeed, conversation wasn’t the only thing that flowed freely that evening.




 

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