The thought that she would make me remove my soaked bra made my nipples peak against the fabric, excited, threatening to expose my secret for her to see. As I unfastened the buttons on my clinging wet blouse I pulled it away from my skin, embarrassed by the way it stuck tight. The scent of rainwater and dark woodland steamed in the heat from the fire.
I heard her snap her fingers.
“Yes, Mrs. Adler.” I opened my eyes. “Sorry… my fingers are cold.” I lied as I fumbled with the buttons, clumsy with lust.
Her face softened. “I think you can call me Iris.”
She smiled, her tanned skin pulling tight over her cheekbones. Years spent out in the sun on archaeological digs had given her a dark complexion and squint lines around her bespectacled eyes.
“Oh, let me do it.” She stepped forward to within a breath, so close that I could count the links on the chain around her neck while she undressed me. I wanted to reach up and trace them with a fingertip, make her shiver with anticipation. I imagined her throwing her head back while I kissed her throat.
I watched her long fingers, tanned dark with work. Short, practical nails, not a hint of polish, carelessly ragged. My heart thundered as the final button came undone and I gritted my teeth.
When she pulled my blouse open, hooking it over my shoulders, I shivered. The feel of her skin brushing mine as she peeled away the wet fabric made goose flesh rise on my arms.
“Oh, Charlotte, you’re freezing,” she said, and her hand caressed my shoulder. “I have a towel and fresh clothes.” She looked down at my breasts and I had to squirm just to keep myself from bleating. “Can you manage your bra?”
“Mrs. Adler, I -”
“Iris, I can’t -”
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
Before I could object or turn away, she leaned forward, reaching around to my back, working the clasp. The way she took control, the way she didn’t even seem to notice my nipples straining, hard and dark against the damp, white cotton… it made me want her more. I could smell her scent, clean and soapy, clinical. No perfume, nothing so frivolous. Her head tilted up, her throat exposed to me, pulled tight. Dark hair brushing the skin beneath her ear.
I couldn’t control myself. As my bra popped open, I reached up, kissed her throat, my breasts pressing against her chest. Her neck was cool against my lips. I heard her gasp and felt her lean her head to the side. She tasted sweet as honey, soft as moonlight. Her firm body softened against me, then she gripped my shoulders, pushed me away.
“Charlotte…” Her breath was rapid. “What are you doing?”
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Written for Masturbation Monday Week 104. If you’re not familiar with Masturbation Monday then you’re missing out! Hosted by the fabulous Kayla Lords, it’s a feast of decadent pleasures and sultry delights, all free, every week.
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