Michael watched her from the doorway of the bathroom as she finished her toilette. He reflected how easily Winter had slipped into the fabric of his life. Weeks earlier, she had started to leave things at his place. It was more convenient, when she stayed over, for her to have fresh clothes ready to put on. They had not ever discussed it. He had simply remarked that he had cleared out some drawers and closet space for her. Winter had nodded, and the next time she came over, she had left some items. Without making a production of it, he had also given her a key to the house.
Michael had wondered whether it would irritate him to have tangible reminders of her presence, like heels in the closet and feminine products inside the bathroom cabinet, but it had done just the opposite. It had given him a sense of rightness, of satisfaction. Those things were proof of the existence of the beautiful woman who was in his life.
Michael eyed her appreciatively while she was putting the finishing touches to her makeup. She had on a short, black clingy dress, over black hosiery and strappy black heels that made her legs look like they went on forever. With her auburn hair left free to curl to her shoulders, she appeared stunning.
He knit his brows, looking her over again. That smoking-hot dress needs a necklace, maybe some bracelets. He recalled suddenly that she had said once that she didn’t have any jewelry. He had since given her a few simple pieces, but nothing that would do justice to that dress. Well, that was something else he could do for her.
She leaned over the sleek granite counter toward the mirror to apply her lipstick, and he drew in a long, slow breath. All rational thought dried up as his gaze froze on the rise of her delectable behind.
Michael stepped inside the bathroom. Just watching her had been mildly arousing, but when she had bent toward the mirror and her firm ass tilted out, he went completely hard. He couldn’t bear it any longer. He had to touch her.
He moved up close behind her and pushed up her dress until he could cup her bare bottom. All she wore underneath was a lacy black thong and a matching garter belt to support her thigh-high black hose. Smoothing his hands round the curves of her pale buttocks, he teased her sex with his thumbs. Their eyes locked in the mirror. She set down the lipstick, and her tongue flickered out to touch her glossy lips. Without a word, just like that, she invited him. She canted her ass even more sharply into his palms.
Michael unzipped and levered himself out of his dress trousers. Briefly, he thought about going into the bedroom for a condom, but dismissed it. She was on the pill. They were in an exclusive relationship. They had done it before without a condom. He pulled her toward him and eased his straining shaft slowly past the strip of black lace into her *. He growled at how tight, how hot, she was. It was a delight not to have the thin layer of latex separating his flesh from hers. He began at a slow steady pace, his fingers wrapped round her hips, the bunched dress hiding his hands and cascading over his wrists. The edge of the thong rubbed the length of his rigid cock, rubbing a burn with every gliding stroke.
Bent over at the waist, her breasts swaying, Winter clenched the underside of the vanity with both hands. She kept her eyes open, watching him. A thrill went through her. He was magnificent. His ice-blue eyes were heated chips, contrasting with the dark flush that stained his cheekbones. The white dress shirt and dark trousers emphasized his trim physique. His lean hips moved steadily, powerfully, against her buttocks.
She could feel the familiar heat rise inside of her, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her pinkening skin. There was something incredibly erotic about seeing him reflected in the mirror, dressed for a night on the town, not an inch of skin showing, but feeling his hot thick shaft plowing deliberately into her, while his fingers were digging hard into her hips. His deep thrusting was measured, almost leisurely.