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An international affair with a stranger.

Piece by piece, she added to the stockings she kept, and was soon looking every bit the lingerie model.

At last, she walked to the full-length mirror on the inside of my closet door, and looked at my lingerie on her body. She saw my reflection in the mirror as she looked, and turned around and silently looked at me.

"I love feeling this way, and I love the feel of satin when I run my fingers under it", she said, eyeing me lustfully as she said so.

"Ready?", she asked.

I was beginning to get a bit warm, and walked towards her and lightly touched her on her shoulder and gently turned her. I was taking it in. I "accidentally" brushed her nipple to test her hardness, and she was very firm. Warm and firm. I paused, went to my makeup dresser, and came back with some things.

"Sit here", I said, trying to re-tip the balance of sexual power.

She sat on the chair by the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed, set the makeup items I had gathered next to me, and began to apply heavy makeup to her. She liked the attention, and the "finishing off' she wanted. I tilted her head up to me, as I stood over her, and she sat there demurely while I played the part of a makeup person. Slowly, both of us dressed in my lingerie, in the dim bedroom that had seen so much similar activity with Ron and me, I applied deep purple lipstick, blue eye makeup, and a nice delicate French perfume to her. She was now ready for her date.

I was more than ready. I nodded, and as I sat on the edge of my much-used bed, she stood up, took the makeup things, walked to the dresser, and put them on top. Opening the bottom drawer, she took something out, hid it from me and as she held it behind her back, she stood up and slowly came back to me. She walked towards me slowly, those shoes making it the only way to walk. Her legs were the longest they would ever be, the garter belt straining to clinch the tops of her stockings. I watched every line of her legs as they strained at every point. She knew she was a wonderful fuck, wasn't she?

Standing over me, she reached down and began to run her hand down the small of my back. I lay back, and onto my stomach, and I rotated my hips and offered her my ass. I was lasciviously rotating and gyrating my hips, and I knew how wanton it was. All I wanted was for her to start invading my forbidden backside, and to take every liberty she wished. I wanted to be her fucktoy, and I wanted it badly.
I softly moaned, knowing how much I had enjoyed fingering my own asshole with my lubricated pinky earlier this evening, and confident my entry was so ready, so sweet, and so inviting to anyone who might like to toy with it. Rotating my hips, I raised my ass invitingly, not caring how slutty or nasty I might seem. It was, to the contrary, all I could

do to make myself a slut that I hoped would help Monet with her conquest.

"Please, baby. Please. ... Take me. I love the feel of your fingers on me. So smooth. So hot. So kind. ...You are so nice..."

"Do you like this, Karen?" She was teasing me, easing her hand nearer and nearer my sweet little asshole. I breathed deeply, trying to keep my motions under control. It was getting harder to do. I wanted her to fuck my ass. To work a strap-on into me hard, and not into my cunt, but into my ass. I wanted to be her fuck toy. I wanted her to do anything she wanted to me, and to do it hard.

Monet paused, and reached for the nightstand.

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