She painted her toenails carefully; choosing a sleek, deep, fiery red. Her experience had shown her that this type of man loved these details and the results were well-worth her effort. First she had soaked in a warm, scented bath and afterward she had sensuously applied a thick, rich emollient to her entire body. Taking care not to miss a single curve or hiding place, she thought of his lips and tongue exploring her every secret and her hands began to shake.
She chose her dress strategically; revealing some of her shapeliness and hinting at the rest. She wanted him to see just enough to think that he knew what lay beneath, and under. She imagined him undressing her with his eyes as his senses caressed the softness of her skin and the wetness of her desire. This night was to be the night that he would surrender to her completely and unrestrained.
The woman chose a pair of thigh high stockings–jet black with lace at the top. He would most certainly approve as she envisioned his full attention captured and held hostage to the promise of what was yet to come. She thought that she knew this one well enough to be able to anticipate his responses with confidence. She knew that look: intense and prolonged eye contact with one brow slightly raised, combined with a slight flick with the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth. It was pure lust and it was more intoxicating than any cocktail that was ever created.
Acknowledging her prowess in all things seductive, a slight smile played across her red lips. She pictured his capitulation of power and the awareness of his own vulnerability. That elusive “something” that he possessed would belong to her, at least for a time. The potency of seduction and his inability to resist the fantasies of her anticipated surrender, caused her heart to pound as adrenaline surged through her body. She began to perspire.
Allowing her mind to filter through the erotic memories of previous encounters, the thrill of the hunt caused her breathing to quicken. The remembrance of passionate, sensuous, pleasure- filled nights rocked her senses as she became aware of the shallowness of her own inhalations. She determined to slow down her racing thoughts or she would be exhausted before the evening began.
Inevitably, she knew she would concede to the surrender of her desire; until that time, however, she would revel in his anticipated reactions as he succumbed to her skill in all its power and control. She would hold him at bay while she attempted to capture those tangible sensations of deliciously tenuous energy; if only she could find some way to hang on to these moments a little longer, to prolong the pleasure, the sensation, the pure escape of passion…
She painted her nails…