The room falls absolutely silent, as if holding its breath, while unfastened fantasies run wild behind your lover’s eyes, your pose, poised, and reflected all around him.
Unhurried, you unhook your arms from your loosened shoulder straps, crossing one arm over your chest to prevent your dress from falling away.
Glancing over your shoulder, you check to see his eyes restlessly journeying over you, leaping from reflection to reflection, following every curve, from every angle, approval openly written into his expression, his head nodding, almost imperceptibly, offering every reassurance.
He’s groaning inside, you’re certain of it, willing you on, captivated by the subtle sight of your chest rising, reading you as you draw a deeper breath, his eyes widening as carefully you allow your dress to peel away to reveal the firm of your perfect breasts.
Twisting slightly, your hands pushing down at the sides of your open dress, slipping it over the narrow of your waist and where, with your long legs closed together, you wiggle it down past your hips.
And good God, your curves are exciting. Your gorgeous, firm form flows fabulously as you bend to scoop your dress off the floor and pass it to your attending lover, his groin rushing with heat, his disobedient eyes straying to the shadows cast between your thighs.
The reality of you reflected all around him, he can virtually taste your nectar on his tongue, as he begins to fantasize for all the ways he wants you.
“Whoa” he offers softly, making a confident sound of encouragement and appreciation as well as a revealing a confession, an uncontrolled reaction to his overwhelmed senses.
Cutting through the heat and haze of his aroused tension he stares bluntly at the unwrapping of your goddess frame, conflicting voices inside his head paralyzing him, one voice softening, humbled by your beauty, weakening his knees, the other voice strengthening, hardening, dominant and possessive.
Turning to face him, your eyes connect with his, exchanging light, feeling the heat of the open fire against your skin, your periphery filled with the framed reflections of this intimate moment found all around you.
Conveying your trust in him, you lower your eyes in deference, descending down his chest and towards his tight waist, then further to his thighs and groin, and as if commanded by your line of sight, his hands obey, easing down his underwear, revealing his thighs and the concealed weight of his aroused cock.
Obediently he steps out of his suit pants, laying them with his jacket, shirt and your discarded dress. He stands before you, naked, his cock heavy, aroused, but not yet full hard, and you eye his body with knowing, confidence, and desire.
Holding his attention with your eyes, you ease off one of your high heeled sandals, then raise your foot up onto the ottoman.
Slipping your thumbs into the tight lace band of your stay-up stocking top and very slowly tease the black sheer nylon down over your long, toned thigh.