HNT/flash

At about mid-morning, once our coffee is drunk and cake consumed, i straddle his lap, in the mood to titillate yet confident in my deliberate upholstering. I am wearing my biggest knickers underneath tights pulled up to my waist, with a securely buttoned denim skirt hoicked up around my bottom.

I feel his hand slide along the underside of my thigh so i sit down harder, squeezing him out.

He relents, laces his fingers casually behind his head, watching my face as i grind the V of my body against the prominent lump under his serge. Despite the privacy of the room the protracted frottage seems strangely exotic, the layers of cloth between our obviously heated and hardened bodies emphasising the blatant expression of my hips.

A little later we shift sideways across the long sofa. He is now arched above me, my knees still wrapped around his legs, but i am the one looking up at him. He places one hand on my left cheek, pressing my face into the leather seat. Our eyes remain locked. His hand retreats then connects, hard, on the side of my jaw.

I grin. He grins too, with delight at discovery.

"You have tiger's eyes" he says, and pulls me back into his lap.