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Once inside the sanctuary of his apartment, Vivian didn’t hesitate. Her coat came off first, spilling onto the floor. Then she turned to face him and slowly, tortuously untied that ribbon around her waist. The ribbon rasped as the silk slipped against itself and the knot was undone. Blood pounded in his ears as he focused on that one ribbon, knowing her dress wouldn’t magically fall off her when it was untied, but he could still hope.
She smiled slyly at him, reached behind her back and the sound of a zipper being loosed resonated through the apartment. Her dress inched down her body, revealing her delicate collarbones with the thin strap of black against her skin, then the lacy cups of the bra covering her enlarged breasts, and finally, with a rustle, the dress was off completely.
Vivian stood in front of him in her matching underwear and heels, the dress pooled at her feet. “Let’s see if you can hit the bull’s-eye,” she said, before turning and walking away from him.
Karl tripped over her clothes as he tried to follow her, taking off his shoes, coat and tie at the same time, not worried about the pile of clothes on the floor and only caring enough about his dignity not to fall on his ass as he stumbled. Her skin was warm when he caught up to her at the edge of his bed and wrapped his hands around her waist. She twisted in his arms, fumbling to unbutton his shirt as they fell together onto the bed, limbs intertwined.
Vivian opened her mouth, but before she could say anything Karl pressed his lips against hers and opened her mouth a little wider, her tongue meeting his as he cocked his head for better access. Her lips were soft. Her mouth was warm. Her teeth were sharp enough to keep him aware of every last cell in his body as he ran his tongue along the inside of her mouth.
God, she felt good under him. All the windows in his apartment could bust open, letting the cool April night air in, and he’d still be on fire with her hands pulling at his shirt and her nails skimming along the sides of his body.
He groped for her panties, shoving down and pulling them off over her hips, desperate to end the torture that had started on the elevator ride. When she kicked out with one leg and her panties came free, he was too intent on his newfound access to care that she’d nearly kneed him in the crotch.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled before taking his nipple between her teeth and biting down gently.
He tiptoed his fingers through her curly hair until he got to her moist folds, then slid a finger inside her. “Let’s both be glad my aim improves when your clothes come off.”
He lifted up on his elbow, watching his now-damp finger trail over her belly. Vivian lifted a leg over his hip, pulling him toward her in invitation and, unable to wait any longer, his pants and shirt still hanging off his limbs, Karl grabbed hold of his cock and pushed into her. She pulsed around him, and he tried to think of cardboard boxes, damp wool and his constitutional law professor from law school—anything to take his mind off the mind-blowing feeling of the woman wrapping her legs around him before he ejaculated with the finesse of a sixteen-year-old in the shower.
Luckily, he wasn’t the only one struggling to last longer than two minutes; the elevator ride had nearly done them both in. Karl had only pulled out of her once when her breath started to catch and her nails dug into his shoulders. She bucked against him, tightening her thighs around his legs. She stilled, her eyes pressed tightly shut. For a moment he was worried she had stopped breathing, but she called out his name as her body shuddered.
When she opened her eyes, gave him a wicked smile and said, “Bull’s-eye,” Karl’s balls tightened painfully and he released into her with a groan.
* * *
KARL BECAME CONSCIOUS when the bed shifted. He opened his eyes to find Vivian sliding out of the bed, the moonlight gleaming off her bare shoulder. As she leaned over to pick something—her underwear—off the floor, he could make out the cascading ridge of her spine. He loved seeing her naked, adored her breasts, but this was his favorite view of her. It was like sneaking into one of Renoir’s paintings of bathers, intimate, vulnerable and inviting, the muscles of a woman’s back soft and smooth. Then her underwear skimmed over her butt, and she reached down for something else.
