The Invitation
Her Private Sex invitation came in the way that she’d grown to expect them. At exactly 10:00 am, a man in a dark suit knocked softly on the wall of Liya’s cubicle, a tiny space stuck in the middle of one of the Tower office blocks in the center of Clementi, Singapore. He slipped his hand into his pocket and wordlessly removed a small envelope. He handed it to her, and she took it from him as her hands trembled.
“Thank you,” she said softly. He said nothing, just nodded in acknowledgment and walked away.
Anticipation and Preparation
Liya tried to force down the blush that had already crept up her neck. She glanced nervously around, but all of her nearby co-workers were busy at their computers, not paying any attention to her or the heated flush of desire that she wore like a scarlet letter. The envelope was not sealed. She opened it delicately to savor each second of exquisite anticipation. Inside, inked in his now-familiar hand, were the words:
My place. 9 pm. Dress to be provided.
She felt the arousal wash over her. She took a deep breath, then another as she tried not to think of the liquid heat that filled her every time she got one of those little envelopes. She put the card and the envelope back on her desk and walked down to the cooler to have a glass of water. That always seemed to help. Liya slowly walked back to her cubicle and tried not to smile or think of what would happen that evening.
The Waiting Game
The rest of the day went by in fits and starts, blurry hours of productivity, and lazy minutes spent transfixed by the clock. She willed the time to be later. By 4:53 pm, she shut her computer down. At 4:58 pm, her purse was on her shoulder, and at 5:00 pm, she was in her car. The drive home past Clementi’s famous steel truss railway bridge was uneventful, even though it was filled with the beauty of tropical scenery. She pulled into a parking spot and walked up to her apartment. The humidity sweltered around her; she barely noticed that her skin grew faintly damp on the brief journey from the car to the front door. Her preoccupied mind was focused on what she knew was inside. The key shook slightly as she unlocked the door.
The Dress
It was the same apartment she’d left in the morning – same living room, same couch, same everything. But there was a large white cardboard box, four feet long by two feet wide, a foot high, that sat on the coffee table in her living room. She lifted the top off of the box. Inside, as expected, was a sheer, diaphanous black dress, cobweb-fine black lace panties and matching bra, silken thigh-high stockings, and sumptuous black suede pumps.
She smiled as she looked at the clothes. Her fingers lightly brushed over them, and her long lashes closed. She thought about how he had packed them, the delicacy with which he had folded them, and how he arranged the tissue paper so that nothing would become wrinkled. She checked the clock, it was 6:34 pm. It was easily two hours before she had to leave, and the clock continued to crawl at what seemed like a snail’s pace. She ate some fruit and leftover satay as she watched some TV to distract her.
Getting Ready
At 7:30 pm, Liya took a quick shower, then left her chestnut hair to dry in long, loose waves as he liked it to be. Satisfied with her hair, she turned to her makeup, expertly highlighting her almond-shaped eyes and flawless skin.
At 8:15 pm, Liya checked her reflection in the mirror for what seemed to be the millionth time. She began to pace, the dress flowed around her lithe frame, made of gossamer-fine silk that accentuated the sensual lines of her body. She forced herself to stop to drink a glass of water in an attempt to steady her nerves. She paced some more.
The Arrival
It was now 8:30 pm. “Close enough,” Liya thought as she walked out of her apartment, the heels clicked on the tiles of the entryway. She locked the door behind her, walked to her car in the sultry evening heat, and drove to his place. She loved this drive; tonight was no exception. The lights of the city around her glowed brightly, displaying the hustle and bustle of the busy hawker food stalls and wet markets busy with hungry patrons even in the sticky evening heat.
She pulled into his driveway; the tires of her car crunched on the gravel. She got out and walked to the front door; all thoughts of her everyday life disappeared with each step. It was open just a crack, she pushed it, and the large, heavy oak door swung easily on its hinges. She walked into the large front hall and closed the door behind her quietly.
The Encounter Begins
“In here.”
Liya heard his deep voice from the direction of the living room. She felt her body instantaneously react to his voice. First, every muscle in her body immediately tensed, then, with a soft sigh, gentle relaxation released that only intensified the sexual desire that pooled deep within her core. She steadied herself and walked towards the sound of his voice, entering the elegantly appointed living room. He sat in a large leather recliner, his suit jacket tossed on a nearby ottoman. His crisp white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, and his black silk tie was slightly loose at the base of his throat. The cuffs of his shirt sleeves were rolled up his arms to just below his elbows. Liya felt another wave of unbridled need crash through her slender body at the sight of him. There was a tumbler next to him with scotch, and a crystal bottle full of shimmering amber liquor sat next to the glass.
He smiled when he saw her and said, “The dress looks good on you.” She felt her cheeks blush but didn’t try to hide it. She closed her eyes once, slowly, to savor the feel of his eyes tracing each accented curve of her body.
“Thank you,” she murmured demurely.
Submission
“Let me see all of you,” he commanded. He knew the request would not be refused. She walked in front of him and turned slowly to enjoy the silk sliding on her suddenly sensitive skin. She stopped to face him with her eyes lowered, a couple of feet from his chair. He let his eyes slide slowly over her to claim her without a single word or motion. He nodded once, a tiny gesture of approval, then moved his index finger in a simple motion downwards. Liya already knew what it meant.
As he took a long sip from his glass, she sank to her knees, the dress puddled around her. She slowly kissed his leg upwards from his knee, her lips sliding over the fine wool of his suit pants. She reached his crotch and voiced a soft moan at the warm hardness she felt through the cloth. Looking upwards, she found that his eyes, slightly clouded by the scotch, were locked on her as he watched everything. She loved this.
Pleasing Him
She kissed her way up the fly of his trousers, then unbuckled his belt, never taking her eyes off him. She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then reached in and slid his cock out of his boxers. It was already hard, like silken skin over steel. She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and slid the head into her mouth. She moved her hands to his thighs and took him into her mouth. Slowly she slid her mouth up and down. Quickly, droplets of his sweet precum mixed with her saliva to lubricate his cock.
She knew what would come next and craved it. She felt a wet heat run through her as it happened. His hands slid into her hair and tightened. He began to fuck her mouth with increased urgency. She relaxed and gave in to let him use her mouth for his pleasure. His cock pushed deeper with each thrust, and he let out a guttural moan as his head pushed against the tight rim of her throat. One more push, and she felt his orgasm pulsate in her mouth.
She felt the thick ropes of his cum, squirt after squirt, slide down her throat and fill her mouth. She barely managed to keep it all in her mouth before he slid his shaft, which throbbed, from her reddened lips. His grip relaxed on her hair, and he gave one more soft moan. She swallowed quickly and smiled up at him. He graced her with a smile that broke across his face like the sun.
Her Private Sex
“Lovely Liya,” he said. “Stand up.”
She stood gracefully, on legs made shaky by what was yet to come. He drained the rest of his scotch, stood, and took her by the hand. His hands were large and strong, but his skin was soft against hers. He led her down the hall to the master suite’s marble bathroom. She had used it before but had never been in it with him. She looked up at him, confused by this new turn of events. He turned her around and kissed the back of her neck as he slid the zipper down on her dress, then slipped it off her shoulders. Her body trembled at the touch of his warm lips and the coolness of the silk dress sliding over her skin.
The Bath
“Step out,” he instructed.
Liya did so without hesitation, and he draped the dress over a nearby towel rack. He went to the large, old-fashioned clawfoot tub and turned on the faucets. It began to fill, and steam rose off the water. He rolled his sleeves up a bit further, slowly and carefully, until they were above his elbows. He stood behind her, unclasped her bra, and draped it over her dress. He slid her panties down her long legs, and she stepped out of them. He knelt before her and gently placed his hands on her left calf. Taking the cue, she lifted her leg slightly, and he slipped her foot out of her suede heel, her hand on his shoulder for balance. He did the same with the other heel, then rolled her stockings off. She stood naked before him.
The clawfoot tub filled quickly. He removed a blue glass bottle from the medicine cabinet and emptied it into the stream of running water. Bubbles formed rapidly, and soon there was a thick layer of perfumed bubbles covering the warm water. He tested the water with his fingers, then turned the water off.
“Is the temperature alright?” he asked quietly.
The Warmth On Her Sore Muscles
She bent down, her distracted mind barely registering the temperature, and nodded silently. He gestured to the tub, and she got in. It felt wonderful. Her eyes closed in bliss as she sank into the mountains of jasmine-scented bubbles. The heat from the water soaked into her skin, into her bones, and she let out a deep sigh of relaxation.
“Enjoy,” he whispered. “I’ll be back in a little while for you.”
He turned off the light and closed the door. As the door shut, all of the light from the master suite was cut off, and she was left in complete darkness. She slipped down in the bath a little, letting the warmth work into her muscles, draining every ounce of tiredness and soreness from her body. She felt like she could barely lift a finger. The peaceful restfulness was so deep. She opened and closed her eyes to see if she could make out anything in the room, but the room was perfectly and completely dark. She let her eyes rest shut and allowed her other senses to wake up.
Her hands found their way upwards over her skin, feeling the slight lubrication of the soap as her fingertips caressed the dips and curves of her frame. Liya breathed in, slowly and deeply, the exotic scent of jasmine flowers filling her nose. She let her mind and hands wander aimlessly, without any purpose other than to experience each sensation to its fullest.
His Return
Before long, the bathroom door was quietly opened, and a faint light from the hallway spilled in. He was back. He turned on the lights with a dimmer to keep them low, courteously letting her eyes adjust from the darkness.
“Hello again,” he said with a smile. “It’s time to get up. Stand, please.”
She stood without question. She moved slowly as her relaxed muscles regained their lost strength.
Shaving Ritual
“Sit on the far edge of the tub, facing me,” he commanded.
She did as he asked. Beyond the edge of the tub, there was an alcove that gave her a comfortable nook to sit in. He turned the lights up a little bit and opened a cabinet beside the double vanity sink. He removed a dark wood box and opened it to reveal an old-fashioned shaving kit, complete with a lather brush and a shiny, silver, single-blade razor.
“I’d like to shave you,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper.
She looked down at her neatly trimmed mound, and her brow furrowed.
“You don’t like this?” she asked him.
“I do like it. But I want to shave you.”
She understood and nodded slowly in acquiescence. He removed a small tub and a bottle from the shaving kit. He poured a honey-colored liquid from the bottle into his hands. He rubbed it into his hands, and she could see them glisten in the warm, dusky light. He leaned forward, and she closed her eyes at his touch. Liya felt his oiled hands slide over her. She exhaled a shaky breath as his fingers slid over her mound, her lips, her perineum, and even between her cheeks to rub the tiny puckered hole. The oil felt slick and warm. She wondered if he could tell how sexually aroused she was by just this simple erotic massage.
The Ending
His hands left her skin, and she opened her eyes to find him walking to the sink to wash the oil from his hands. He picked up the brush from the wooden box and returned to her, his eyes hungrily devouring her naked body. She watched him with languid eyes as he ran the brush under the hot water that flowed from the bath faucet, dipped it in the tub of lather cream, and leaned forward.
“Spread your legs for me, Liya.”
Now this was one hell of an erotic story.
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