Not Bad at All
Not bad at all
Another story from my adventures in crossdressing. I write these mostly to keep the memories fresh and not forget the details. If you are reading it, I hope you enjoy it.
The year was 2015. I was in my late 40s, continuing to explore my interest in crossdressing. I've always figured I'm a typical crossdressing guy—tall, slim, and professional, with nothing outwardly indicating my enjoyment of occasionally donning a dress and heels. My attraction to women's clothing has been lifelong – something about the feel of the clothes against my skin and the ability to temporarily become someone else. I'm not sure where it came from or why I do it, it's just something that has always been exciting and interesting to me. I've been told that I look rather attractive when all dolled up. I'm not sure I was ever completely passable, but there have been many compliments on my appearance when dressed. I was even offered a job as a crossdressing escort once. Flattering in a strange sort of way, but not a career choice I'd want to pursue.
Growing up in a conservative Midwestern town limited my crossdressing explorations when I was young. But when I was 19, I met someone who helped me fully dress as a woman for a night out in Chicago. A professional drag performer transformed me into what appeared to be a beautiful young woman, making it an exhilarating experience. I remember the sensation of the tight dress against my skin, the cool air on my freshly shaved and nylon covered legs, the click of my heels on the pavement as we walked, and the thrill that coursed through me as I saw my reflection. However, life events, including marriage and a high-profile career, led me to suppress my crossdressing desires for nearly two decades. I felt a mixture of sadness and resignation as I purged my collected feminine attire, feeling like a part of me was being purged as well.
Almost 20 years later, after divorcing, changing careers, and moving back to the Chicagoland area, I had the freedom to explore my long-subdued interest. The anticipation of dressing up again was thrilling. Despite a busy "normal" life with a full-time job, friends, family, and dating women, I would occasionally indulge my desires to dress up and go out. The rush of excitement and a slight nervousness always accompanied these outings. The feel of makeup being applied, the tight hug of a corset, and the transformation it all brought was thrilling. It felt liberating to finally embrace this part of myself, even if only for a few hours at a time.
I consider myself to be heterosexual, but when fully dressed "en femme," I really like to immerse myself in the role and am open to the potential of erotic encounters with men. I'm not sure if that's unusual; it's just something that evolved over time with me. The first time I had sex with a man while crossdressed was really nothing more than a drunken tryst in a dark parking lot. Much to my amazement I found I enjoyed the experience.
The next time was a bit more deliberate with an ardent internet admirer who wanted a last "fling" with a crossdresser before he got married. I invited him over for an evening of carnal activities. It was another enjoyable encounter which opened more possibilities for me. Other experiences with both men and women opened the door even further to my erotic adventures while wearing dresses and heels.
My most recent experience was with a man named Anthony who I had met via an online dating service that caters to those with non-traditional sexual interests. He had expressed a desire to be with a crossdresser, explaining that he was stuck in a sexless marriage and had previous experience with transvestites while in college. After exchanging messages, we agreed to meet. That evening proved to be stimulating and satisfying for both of us.
It was now 2015, six months since my evening with Anthony, and I was once again feeling the need to get dressed up and seek a new adventure. Anthony had continued to keep in touch with me, occasionally sending an email asking how things were and talking about how much he had enjoyed our rendezvous. I provided courteous replies but had done nothing to encourage him to think we would meet up again. Now, however, I was starting to think that maybe another evening with him might be fun. He had proven himself to be polite and thoughtful, and his stamina in the bedroom was pretty good, managing to orgasm more than once in the evening.
I decided to send him a message and see if he was interested in meeting up again.
"Hi Anthony, I hope you are doing well. I have been thinking about our evening together, and how much I enjoyed it. I was wondering if you might be interested in another evening of fun. Let me know. Jenette"
I sent the message and waited to see if he would respond, anticipation mingling with a touch of anxiety as I waited. I didn't have to wait long for his response.
"Hi Jenette, I was hoping to hear from you. I would love to spend some more time with you. I've been thinking about our evening together a lot. When would you like to get together? Anthony"
"Depends on when you can get away. Is your wife still traveling for her work?" I replied, a bit of anticipation growing slightly as I typed.
"Yes, she is gone every other week for at least 3 days. So, we could get together any evening except for the nights she is home. When would you like to meet?"
"How about Thursday evening? We could meet at a local club and then go back to the same hotel we used before," I suggested, my excitement building.
"Sounds great. What's the club and what time do you want to meet?"
I sent him the name of the club; Hunters was a well-known spot in the suburbs of Chicago that welcomed crossdressers and others. I suggested meeting around 9ish as it would give me plenty of time to prepare and the club wouldn't be too busy at that time.
Anthony quickly replied, "Wonderful. Can't wait to see you again."
As I shut down my computer, my mind wandered through the many things I would need to do before our planned meeting. My pulse quickened as I imagined the adventure ahead.
Thursday finally arrived. I had taken several days off from work and spent the morning getting ready. I packed up a bag with my wig, makeup, and several different outfit selections. I hadn't decided on what to wear for the evening and thought it easier to just decide once I was ready to get dressed. I also packed some snacks, wine and whiskey, male clothing, and finally a box of condoms and lube. Best to be prepared for all contingencies. As an afterthought, I tossed a couple of toys into the bag that might make the evening even more interesting.
Once I got checked into the hotel, I unpacked and sat down to relax. It was still early, and I had time to gather my thoughts about the coming adventure. I felt a growing sense of eagerness, the thrill of the evening ahead making it hard to sit still.
I took a long and very hot bath to soak away any lingering concerns and to prepare for an all-over shave. The steam enveloped me, warming my skin and loosening my muscles. As I submerged myself in the water, I felt the tension melt away. The heat and comfort of the bath allowed me to focus on the excitement bubbling within me.
Next, lather and razor were applied, shaving pretty much everything south of the eyebrows. And when I say "everything," I mean everything. The razor glided smoothly over my skin, leaving it silky and soft. The sensation of the blade against my skin was both soothing and exhilarating, a reminder of the transformation I was about to undergo.
Once that was done, I started working on the makeup — placing my hair in a net and going to work on my foundation, shading, eyes, and lips. The process of transforming from "average Joe" to "hot tranny" was long and meticulous. Each step of applying makeup brought me closer to the image I wanted to present. The makeup alone took almost two hours.
Once my makeup was done, put on my wig using multiple bobby pins to make sure it stayed firmly in place. The wig was shoulder-length blonde with dark roots and framed my face exquisitely. Giving it a fluff, I gave it a once-over in the mirror. As I looked at my reflection, I saw a confident, beautiful woman staring back. She was older now with more lines on her face, but still attractive in a MILFish sort of way. With a nod of satisfaction, I moved back into the bedroom to start getting dressed.
I started with a black lacy bra that fit my C-cup silicon inserts perfectly. The soft fabric felt luxurious against my skin, the fit impeccable.
A black waist cincher that doubled as a garter belt came next, narrowing my waist to a more hourglass shape. The cincher had four heavy black garter straps to hook to stockings. The constriction of the cincher was comforting, making me feel secure and shapely.
Next, I rolled a pair of mocha-colored stockings up my freshly shaven legs. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine as I smoothed them into place and hooked them to the garters. The stockings had a satiny finish and shimmered slightly in the light. The tactile pleasure of the stockings against my skin was exhilarating, adding to my growing excitement.
A pair of black satin and lace panties was next. They had a top that rose slightly higher on my hips, which helped to keep them in place while my cock was tucked. I certainly didn't want any unsightly bulge that might show under my skirt. I had learned that it was important to put the panties on last and over the garter straps. That made it easier to get out of them quickly if there was a need.
Finally, I pulled on an open bottom shapewear slip I had purchased just for this evening. It was rather retro-looking, harkening back to the classic lingerie women wore in the 1950s and 1960s. It was black spandex with a lacy bronze-colored insert in the front. The shapewear did a wonderful job of smoothing things down and keeping everything in place.
Now it was time to pick out what to wear. I had brought several options with me, and I laid them all out on the king-size bed to consider them. My eye went first to my classic little black dress. It was clingy, with see-through long sleeves. I had worn it before on another adventure, and the sight of the dress made me smile at the erotic memory. The dress was also very short and if I wore it my garters straps and stocking tops would be clearly visible. Pantyhose was a better option for that dress, so I moved it to the side.
Next, I considered a skirt and jacket combination. The skirt was short, coming down to about eight inches above my knee, and layered with satiny material and lace. It was long enough that my stocking tops would be concealed most of the time. The elastic waistband made it easy to put on and take off rapidly - definitely a consideration for what I hoped would happen that night. I decided to pair the skirt with a brown velvet camisole top that was rather low-cut and showed a generous portion of the lacy bra I was wearing. Over that, I added a brown lace jacket which helped to de-emphasize my shoulders. The colors of the top and jacket would go well with the mocha-colored stockings I was wearing.
I put on the skirt, top, and jacket and stood in front of the mirror to consider the outfit. It was definitely sexy, and the layers of the skirt gave it a bit of a flair providing the illusion of wider hips. The ensemble felt elegant and provocative, fitting my mood perfectly.
It was winter and cold outside, so I opted for a pair of black knee-high boots. They had pointed toes, a small platform, and four-inch heels. Amazingly, they were relatively comfortable to walk in. I had worn them before including the first time I had let a man fuck me. Another memory that made me smile.
Once dressed, I added jewelry and some press on nails with a French manicure. As I completed my look, I felt a rush of confidence and excitement, ready for the evening's adventure.
I'll admit that I'm a bit of a camera whore, especially when dressed up, so I decided to snap a few selfies. Setting up my tripod, I set my phone up to take a series of pictures, trying a few different poses until I had a few images that I liked.
Once that was done, I grabbed my purse, tossed in my keys, wallet, and some lipstick, and headed toward the door. Taking one last look in the mirror, I smiled at my reflection. Not bad. Not bad at all.
The club was only about 10 minutes away from the hotel and I arrived a few minutes before 9:00. On the short drive I enjoyed catching glimpses of my eyes in the rearview mirror, dark blue with smoky sultry makeup and long full lashes.
Arriving at the club I parked, walked to the entrance, paid my cover charge and went inside. The club was not busy. Thursday nights were not usually a big night out for most folks. The main bar area was immediately to the right of the entrance. Every stool was filled with a wild variety of people that frequented the place. Tables and chairs were scattered around the room. There was a small dance floor in front of a DJ booth. Dance music was playing, and a few people were dancing. Past the main bar was a room with a pool table and pinball machines. It also held some comfortable chairs, loveseats, and some small tables with chairs.
I scanned as I walked and saw Anthony sitting at a table near the back of the club. He was dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt. I walked over to the table and sat down, crossing my legs and smiling. A feeling the anticipation bubbled up within me.
"Hi Anthony," I said, my voice carrying a mix of excitement and nervousness.
"Jenette, you look amazing," he said, his eyes lighting up with genuine admiration.
"Thank you," I replied, blushing slightly. "You look pretty good yourself."
"Would you like a drink?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting.
"Sure, I'll take a white wine," I said.
Anthony got up and went to the bar. Seeing him again in person reminded me of how much I had enjoyed our last encounter. The thought of what might happen gave a shiver of excitement.
He returned with my wine and a beer for himself, setting the glasses down with a smile.
"So, how have you been?" I asked, taking a sip of the cool, crisp wine.
"Good. Work has been busy, and my wife has been traveling a lot. So, I've been spending a lot of time watching Netflix. How about you?"
"Work has been busy, and I've been keeping up with my normal routine. Nothing exciting." I replied. I took a sip of wine and went on. "But I've been thinking about the evening we spent together," I admitted, feeling a flush of erotic energy pass through me.
"I've been thinking about you too. You were amazing that night. I've never been with anyone like you before. It was all very new and exciting for me."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I had a good time as well. So, what are you interested in doing tonight?" I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity.
"I'm open to anything. Maybe more of what we did last time?" he said with a sheepish grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Well, let's have another drink and see where the evening takes us."
We drank our drinks and chatted about our lives. Anthony told me about his work and his wife. He still loved her, but her constant focus on her work, with all the travel that it entailed, had left him feeling distant from her.
"It's more like we're roommates than husband and wife," he added, staring down at his drink, a hint of sadness in his voice.
I told him about my job and my dating life. We both agreed that we were leading relatively ordinary lives, but that we both needed something more, something unique, something exciting and out of the ordinary.
We finished our second drink, and I asked him if he wanted another.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked in reply, his eyes looking into mine with a mixture of hope and desire.
I looked across the table at him, a feeling of nervous energy growing in me. It was always the same sense of doubt and insecurity that rose up whenever I was about to engage in an erotic adventure while dressed in a skirt and heels. Even after years of doing this, that little lingering feeling of taboo still surfaced in my mind.
Taking a steadying breath, I set my wine glass down on the table and said, "Yes, let's go back to the hotel."
As we walked out of the club Anthony reached out and took my hand in his. It felt strange for a moment, holding a man's hand. But when I glanced down, I liked the image. My hand looked feminine in his, my long slender fingers ending in painted nails, jewelry sparkling faintly in the outdoor lights. It had a natural feeling seeing our hands clasped together as we walked.
The chilly night air gave me that same old thrill as it blew around my stocking-covered legs and up my skirt, sending a shiver of excitement through me. As we started to move to our separate cars, Anthony's hand lingered in mine for a moment. We both stopped and just looked at each other in the light of the parking lot, our arms outstretched and holding hands. As I looked at him, I saw his eyes roam over my body, from my high-heeled boots, up my legs, and up my body until he looked me in the eyes. His expression was a lust-filled smile that sent a small thrill through me. It was nice to be desired.
Releasing my hand from his, he said, "See you at the hotel."
The drive to the hotel was short yet filled with anticipation. It was a business-class hotel located in a cluster of other similar hotels near the interstate. When I arrived, Anthony was already there, standing outside the entrance waiting for me. Walking toward him, I swayed my hips slightly, trying to make my walk a bit more seductive. I felt my breast forms jiggle slightly as I walked. I had to admit it, when dressed fully as a woman, I enjoyed getting into the role.
As I reached him, he took my hand and opened the door to the hotel lobby for me. I acknowledged his small chivalrous gesture by batting my eyelashes and smiling at him. Once inside, we walked hand in hand to the elevator and pushed the up button. With a chime, the elevator doors opened. We stepped inside, pushing the button for the fifth floor where my suite was located. The sense of anticipation was palpable.
Once the elevator doors closed, Anthony was on me. He pushed me forcefully against the wall of the elevator and brought his lips to mine in a heated kiss. The suddenness of his passion took me by surprise. His hands roamed my body, and I felt a surge of desire as his touch sent waves of heat through me. My fingers tangled in his hair as I returned his kiss with equal fervor, losing myself in the moment. I felt his hand reaching up under my skirt and stroking me though the thin fabric of my panties. My cock twitched in response to his fingers as they slid along my growing shaft.
Another chime and the elevator door opened onto an empty hallway. As we broke apart, I felt a rush of erotic energy run through me. I took a quick breath to steady myself and checked my clothes to make sure all was in place properly. Anthony stood at the elevator doors, his hand holding them open, a lascivious expression on his flushed face. As we walked down the hall to my room, I glanced down to see a rather noticeable tenting in front of Anthony's pants. The sight made me smile inwardly, knowing that I could stir such desire so quickly in him.
When we reached the room, I pulled the key card from my purse, and with a click, the light on the door lock turned green. Pushing the door open, I entered the suite first and stood by as Anthony entered behind me. Before closing the door, I took the "do not disturb" sign from the latch inside and hung it on the outside. I wasn't sure how long the evening's activities would last, but I didn't want a hotel maid walking in on us. Or maybe I did? A threesome? The intriguing thought flashed quickly through my mind as I closed the door.
Once inside, Anthony was on me again. His hands were everywhere, caressing and exploring my body with a fervent intensity. He was definitely more assertive than the last time we were together. The touch of his hands sent shivers through me, his eagerness palpable.
I gently pushed him away and said, "Easy there sparky. Let's take this slowly. There's no rush. We have all night." My voice was calm, but inside, my heart was pounding.
I turned and walked over to the sofa in the sitting room of the suite. Sitting down on the edge of the sofa I slowly unzipped my boots. I knew Anthony was watching me, so I made sure to give him a good look at my legs, hiking my skirt up slightly so he could easily see the tops of my stockings and the garter straps holding them in place. I gave a small sigh as I pulled the boots from my feet. I liked wearing heels, but they could be slightly painful at times. The relief of removing them was mixed with a tingling sensation that added to my excitement.
Anthony followed me and sat down next to me. "You're right, there's no rush. We have all night," he said, his voice softening.
He leaned in and kissed me lightly. His lips were soft, and his tongue probed gently into my mouth. I could taste the beer he had been drinking at the club, mingling with the warmth of his breath.
Pulling back from the kiss, I said, "Would you like something to drink? I have wine and whiskey."
"Whiskey, please," he replied, his eyes still locked onto mine with a smoldering intensity.
I walked over to the smallish kitchen area of the suite, my stocking-covered feet virtually silent on the carpeted floor. Pouring two glasses of whiskey, I asked, "Ice?"
"Yes, please," he said.
I added the ice with a clink and sauntered back to the sofa with both drinks in hand. Setting them down on the small coffee table in front of the sofa, I smoothed my skirt down and sat, crossing my legs and leaning back against the pillows of the sofa. The fabric of my stockings brushed against each other, sending a delightful sensation up my legs. I handed him his drink, and our fingers brushed, the contact sending another wave of anticipation through me.
Anthony took a sip. "This is good stuff," he said, his voice warm with appreciation.
"Glad you like it," I replied, my lips curving into a smile, "I spent time working in Kentucky and learned to appreciate good bourbon."
I picked up my own glass and took a sip. The whiskey was smooth, warming my throat as it went down, spreading a comforting heat through my chest.
We sat in silence for a moment, sipping our drinks and enjoying each other's company. The room was filled with a quiet, intimate energy. I noticed his gaze returning to my legs, lingering on the sheer stockings that encased them.
"You like my stockings?" I asked, my voice playful.
"Yes, they're very sexy. I've never been with a woman wearing stockings like that before."
"No?" I asked incredulously.
"Well, my wife used to wear the kind that stay up on their own, back when she cared about trying to be sexy for me," he said with a slightly crestfallen look, "but never the kind with those things that hold them up."
"Garters. They're called garters," I replied, pushing the hem of my skirt up to show him. The act felt bold, sending a thrill of excitement through me.
His hand reached out, and his finger slowly traced the outline of the garter strap, lightly brushing my bare thigh above my stocking top. The brief contact of his touch sent a tingle through me, igniting a spark of desire.
"Well, you're in for a treat tonight then," I said, pulling the hem of my skirt back into place, my heart fluttering with anticipation.
"Oh really?" he said with a smile, his eyes darkening with lust.
I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward to pick up my drink. As I did so, I felt my skirt ride up, exposing the top of my stockings and garter straps on both of my legs. The sensation of the cool air on my skin mingled with the heat of his gaze, creating a delicious contrast. I could feel Anthony's eyes on me as I took a sip of my drink, the intensity of his stare making my pulse quicken.
"You're teasing me," he said, his voice husky with desire.
"Maybe a little," I replied flirtatiously, enjoying the game we were playing.
Setting his drink down on the table, he reached over and ran his hand down my leg until he was leaning over and touching my foot. I felt a shiver run up my spine as his fingers brushed over my skin, the sensation electric.
"Your legs are so soft," he said, his voice filled with admiration.
I felt my cock move in my panties as he touched me. I took another sip of my drink to try and steady my nerves, the warmth of the whiskey mingling with the heat of his touch.
"It's important to moisturize," I said with a smirk, trying to keep my voice steady.
He continued to stroke my leg, his hand moving up to my knee and then back down to my foot. The gentle, rhythmic motion sent waves of pleasure through me, each stroke heightening my arousal.
"What are you doing?" I asked, the soft touch of his fingertips on my stocking-covered leg sending a tingle through me, my breath hitching with each caress.
"You'll see," he replied, his voice low and filled with promise.
Then he did something that completely surprised me. He pulled my foot up and placed it in his lap, then he started to give me a foot massage. His fingers pressed and kneaded the muscles, sending waves of relaxation through my body. I closed my eyes and sank into the sofa, savoring the sensation. A small groan of pleasure escaped my lips. This was a first, I'd never had anyone give me a foot massage while dressed up. His fingers felt marvelous as he softly massaged my stocking-covered foot, the fabric creating a delicate friction that heightened the pleasure.
"That feels really good," I said, my voice a breathy whisper.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," he replied, a satisfied smile in his tone.
After a few minutes, he moved to my other foot and gave it the same treatment. Another soft moan escaped my lips as he kneaded my feet, his touch skilled and attentive.
"I think you like this," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"It feels wonderful," I whispered, the bliss of his massage filling me with a warm, languid sensation.
"Good, because I want to make you feel good tonight."
I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was smiling at me as he massaged my foot, his eyes filled with desire and intent.
"What do you have in mind?" I asked, curiosity and expectation mingling in my thoughts.
"What we did last time, but more of it."
"I like the way you think," I said, feeling a flush of heat at the thought.
Anthony continued massaging, but his hands moved up my leg and started massaging my calf. His touch was firm but gentle, the pressure just right to relax my muscles and send tingles of pleasure through my body.
"Oh, that feels good. Don't stop," I said, my voice trembling slightly with desire.
He moved his hands up further, now massaging my thighs. His fingers brushed the edge of my stocking tops. The sensation of his touch on my sensitive skin, combined with the silky feel of the stockings, was intoxicating.
"You have wonderful legs," he said, his voice low and filled with appreciation.
"Thank you," I moaned, the massage both relaxing and exciting at the same time. His touch was setting my nerves alight, each caress adding to the growing heat between us.
His hands continued their journey, exploring and caressing with a blend of tenderness and intensity. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in a bubble of shared desire and intimate connection. I knew this night was going to be memorable.
He continued to massage, his hands moving up my thighs, his fingers gliding closer and closer to my groin. I felt my cock twitching within the confines of my panties. He continued his massage, pushing the hem of my skirt up to my waist giving him a clear view of what lay underneath. I knew he could see the growing bulge in my panties.
"Someone's getting excited," he said.
"It's your fault," I said coquettishly.
He moved his hands up to my hips and started to massage them. I felt my cock start to harden as his fingers pressed into my flesh.
"Turn over," he said, "onto your stomach."
I did as he instructed, turning over on the sofa and laying on my stomach. The anticipation of his touch sent a shiver through me.
"Now, just relax and enjoy," he said.
He began to massage my back, his hands moving up and down my spine with firm, soothing strokes. I felt my muscles relax under his skilled touch as he worked his fingers into my skin, easing away the tension. Each press and knead sent waves of relaxation through my body.
"That feels so good," I sighed, my voice soft with contentment.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it."
His hands moved lower, now massaging my buttocks. His touch was confident and sensual, the pressure just right to send shivers through my flesh.
"You have a nice ass," he said, his voice laced with admiration.
"Thank you," I replied, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.
He continued to massage my buttocks, his fingers pressing into my flesh with a tantalizing rhythm. Each touch sent pleasure through me, heightening my desire.
"I think it's time to see more of what you're hiding under that skirt," he said, his voice husky with want.
"That's a very good idea," I replied in consent.
He moved his hands up to my waist and started to pull my skirt off. I lifted my hips off the sofa to help him. The fabric slid down my legs, the sensation of the cool air against my exposed skin sending a thrill through me.
As my skirt came off, I heard him gasp. "Wow, those are some sexy panties," he said, his voice filled with appreciation.
"Thank you," I replied, secretly thrilled that he had noticed them. They were made of black satiny material with small lace insets that gave a hint of skin beneath.
His hands continued massaging me. I was acutely aware of his touch, especially as he paid special attention to my legs and ass, working his massage magic with deliberate care.
"Flip onto your back," he said.
I did as he instructed, flipping over onto my back. Looking down, I could see Anthony kneeling on the sofa between my legs. His eyes roamed across my body, focused mostly on my legs and the rather prominent bulge in my panties.
"You're beautiful," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.
"Thank you," I replied, feeling my face heat up. I may have actually blushed at this.
He leaned down and started to kiss my legs. His lips were soft and warm as they brushed against my nylon-covered skin. Each gentle kiss on my thighs made me tremble slightly, the sensation of his lips sending electric shivers through me. He leaned closer, his face inches from my crotch, his hot breath tangible though my panties on my stiffening cock.
"I think you need to get out of these clothes," he whispered, his hands continuing to caress my legs.
"I think that's a good idea," I replied, my voice thick with sensual expectation.
Slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, I pulled away from him, shifting on the sofa and placing my feet onto the carpet-covered floor. Standing, I pulled off my jacket and camisole top, leaving me standing before him in just my bra, shapewear slip, garter belt, panties, and stockings.
"Wow," he said, his eyes taking in my body with undisguised desire.
"You like?" I asked, feeling a small and unexpected wave of self-consciousness.
"Yes, very much," he replied, his voice a mix of admiration and hunger.
I turned around so he could see the back of my outfit. I knew he would be looking at my ass, which was nicely displayed in the tight shapewear slip and panties. The sensation of the fabric hugging my body made me feel sexy and stimulated.
"That's a very sexy outfit," he said, his voice filled with approval.
"Thank you," I replied, "but I think something is missing."
"What's that?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"My heels. I know how much you like a woman in high heels," I replied, moving into the bedroom to retrieve them from my bag. The thought of his eyes on me, appreciating every detail, brought a sense of excitement.
"You're right, I do," he said, his voice tinged with anticipation.
I returned to the sitting room, now wearing my heels, and stood before him. The shoes were black suede stilettos with four-inch heels, adding to the allure of my outfit. Each step made my legs look longer, the heels accentuating the curve of my calves.
"So, what do you think?" I asked, doing a quick pirouette and batting my long fake eyelashes at him.
"Very sexy," he replied, his eyes shining with want.
"Would you mind taking a few pictures of me?" I asked, feeling a mixture of excitement and slight embarrassment. I knew it was a bold request, but the idea thrilled me. I know. Camera whore. I'm not proud.
"Sure," he said, a smile playing on his lips.
Moving into the bedroom I turned off a few lights leaving a warm glow in the room. I climbed onto the bed and posed for him, modeling my outfit and my legs. The soft fabric of the bedspread under my hands contrasted with the firmness of my heels, grounding me in the moment. I could see lust in his eyes as he took the photos, his gaze intense and appreciative.
"You're a natural at this," he said.
"Thank you," I replied, feeling a flush of pride. The way he looked at me, with such carnal desire, made me feel beautiful and wanted. Each click of the camera captured not just an image, but the connection between us, filled with anticipation of what was to come.
"Take off your panties," he said, his voice low and raw.
I did as he asked, slowly pulling my panties down, savoring the sensation of the fabric sliding over my legs, and tossed them onto the corner of the bed. He snapped more pictures as I tried different poses. I could see the lust in his eyes as he looked at me, his gaze hungry and intense. I felt a rush of power as I saw the effect I was having on him, a heady mix of control and desire coursing through me.
I lay back on the bed, my arms above my head, my blonde wig hair splayed around me like a halo. One leg was bent, with the heel dug into the soft covers of the bed, while the other leg stretched out straight, my cock now covered by the taut fabric of my shapewear slip. The sensation of the tight material against me heightened my arousal, each movement making me acutely aware of my own body.
After snapping a few more pictures, Anthony put the phone down on a small table in the room and looked at me. His eyes roamed my body, lingering on my legs. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver of excitement through me. He moved to the bed and sat down next to me, his presence warm and solid.
He reached out and ran his hand along my leg, feeling the smoothness of my stockings. The gentle pressure of his touch sent tingles through my skin, heightening my awareness of every inch of my body. The room was filled with an electric charge. Every touch, every look, every word promising a night of unforgettable sex.
"You look amazing," he said, his voice filled with admiration.
"Thank you," I replied, a smile playing on my lips.
He continued to run his hand along my leg, his fingers brushing the tops of my stockings. Each caress was like a spark, the sensations sending waves of pleasure through my body.
"Why are you still dressed?" I asked in a sultry voice, my tone filled with playful seduction.
"I don't know," he replied, his eyes locked on mine, filled with anticipation.
"Let me help you with that," I said, my voice low and inviting.
I sat up and reached for his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it. I ran my hands over his skin, feeling the warmth and softness of his flesh under my fingertips.
"That feels good," he said, his voice a husky whisper, filled with longing.
I continued to undress him, removing his shirt and then his pants. He was now only in his underwear. I could see the bulge of his cock through the thin fabric.
"Mmmmm... what's this?" I asked as I reached out and stroked his cock through his underwear, feeling the hardness of his shaft.
"It's for you," he replied.
"How thoughtful," I said with a grin, "What woman doesn't like gifts?"
I pulled his underwear down, releasing his cock. It sprang free, hard and ready. Wrapping my hand around it, I began to slowly stroke it feeling the smooth hardness of it in my hand. I could feel the heat of his flesh on my palm and fingers as I worked him. A small groan of pleasure came from him as I continued to stroke.
"You're good at this. Do you have a lot of experience?" he asked in a playful tone.
"No," I replied staring into his eyes with a mischievous smile on my face, "Those are just vicious rumors started by people who know." I had only done something like this a handful of times so I took his question as a compliment to my technique.
I continued to stroke his cock, feeling the wetness of his pre-cum as it leaked from the tip of his cock.
"I think I need to taste this," I said.
I leaned down and took his cock into my mouth. I felt the heat of his flesh on my lips as I sucked him all the way in. The smell of his musk filled my nostrils, and I could taste the saltiness of his pre-cum.
"Oh. God. Yes," he groaned as I took him fully into my warm wet mouth.
I bobbed my head up and down on his cock, sucking and licking as I went. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth as I pleasured him.
"That's so good," he said.
I continued to blow him, alternately sucking him with my mouth and stroking his cock with my hand. While I worked his shaft with my mouth and hand, I used my free hand to reach down and lightly caress his balls, letting my nails softly graze his sack and along his thighs.
I could feel his muscles tense and knew he was close to shooting his load.
"I'm going to cum," he groaned.
I felt his cock stiffen as he came. His hot seed spurted into my mouth, and I swallowed it down.
His body went slack on the bed as he succumbed to his orgasm. I continued to suck him as he started to soften, feeling the last drops of his cum leak into my mouth. I swallowed them down and then pulled back, releasing his cock from my mouth with a quiet pop.
Anthony lay there on the bed for a few minutes, breathing heavily and regaining his senses after his orgasm. Gradually his eyes regained focus and he smiled up at me. Sitting next to him I smiled back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"That was amazing," he said dreamily.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," I replied.
Turning his head he looked at me and said, "I think it's your turn now."
"Oh really?" I asked.
"Yes, really," he replied.
He reached out and ran his hand along my leg, feeling the smoothness of my stockings, his fingers brushing the tops of my stockings. I felt my cock start to harden in reaction to his caress.
"I want you in my mouth," he said.
"You do? I asked in mock astonishment. "Have you ever sucked cock before?"
He hesitated slightly as if wrestling with the answer. Then he looked up at me with an almost embarrassed expression. "No, but I want to try it. I want to make you feel good," he replied.
"Well, I'm not going to stop you," I said.
We traded positions on the bed. I lay down and he moved down the bed until he was kneeling between my legs.
"I've never done this before, so go easy on me," he said.
"Don't worry. Just go slow and do what you like done to yourself," I replied.
He reached out and wrapped his hand around my cock. His touch was light, and his hands were warm. I felt a shiver of pleasure run through me as he touched me.
"That feels good," I said.
He began to stroke me, his hand moving up and down my shaft. I felt my cock throbbing in his hand as he worked me. He was doing a pretty good job. I reached over to the small table next to the bed and grabbed the bottle of lube that was sitting there.
"Here, use this," I said, handing him the bottle.
He took the bottle and poured some of the lube into his hand. Then he reached out and wrapped his hand around my cock again, this time the slickness of the lube making his hand glide smoothly along my shaft.
"Oh, that's nice," I moaned as he stroked my cock.
As he stroked my shaft, I looked down to take in the sight. Here I was, laying down on top of a king size bed, dressed in lingerie, stockings, and heels getting my cock stroked by a man I barely knew. The lube on his hand made a faint slurping sound as he stroked my shaft, each movement sending shivers of pleasure through me. As I watched, Anthony shifted position and leaned forward, his face moving closer to my cock.
I could feel the heat of his breath on me as he leaned in closer. Then I felt the wetness of his tongue as he licked the tip of my cock. I shuddered slightly in response, a small gasp escaping my lips. He continued to lick and suck the head of my cock, his hand still stroking the shaft. The feeling of his mouth and hand on me was incredible. It didn't take long for me to feel an orgasm building.
"I'm gonna..." I moaned.
Before I could finish the sentence, my cock throbbed, and I came. My hot cum spurted up and out, covering his hand.
"Oh, fuck," I groaned as I came, my hands clutching the bed spread as I lost control.
Anthony continued to stroke my cock, milking the last drops of cum from my body. When he was satisfied there was nothing left, he got up and walked to the bathroom of the suite, getting a towel to wipe his cum covered hand clean.
"That was amazing," I said as I came down from my orgasmic high. "Pretty good for your first time sucking cock."
"Thank you," he replied, his smile genuine.
I lay there on the bed for a few minutes, recovering from my orgasm. Once I caught my breath, I shakily got up off the bed to get our drinks. My knees were still a bit weak from the intensity of my orgasm and I wobbled a bit in my heels as I walked.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Just to get our drinks," I replied.
I returned with the drinks and we both sat on the edge of the bed, sipping the fine whiskey. We continued to talk and drink, occasionally laughing at each other's jokes, enjoying an unusual yet pleasant companionship. As we talked, I looked down to admire the look of my legs in the satiny stockings and how my feet looked in the stiletto heels. I crossed my legs and enjoyed the sensation of how my stockings felt rubbing together. The surrealness of the situation was not lost on me. I was dressed in women's clothing, fully made up with a blonde wig, sitting next to a naked man I had just had sex with. I smiled inwardly at the thought as it ran through my mind.
My brief reverie was broken by the sound of Anthony's voice. "So, what now?" he asked.
I looked at him over the rim of my glass and said, "That depends on you, sweetheart."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
I extended a finger, my French manicured nail pointing directly at his crotch. "You got any more lead in that pencil?" I asked.
He looked down at his cock. It was semi-rigid. He started to stammer a reply, but I spoke first, "I want you to do something."
"Oh," he said with a bit of surprise.
Still sitting on the edge of the bed with my legs still crossed, I looked him in the eye and said, "Get on your knees in front of me."
Looking slightly unsure of himself, Anthony complied. Once he was kneeling naked before me, I uncrossed my legs and lifted my heel slightly off the floor. "Kiss my feet and legs," I commanded.
Anthony seemed eager to comply. He took my foot in both hands and began to kiss and caress my stocking-covered foot and heel. Then he slowly started working his way up, gently licking and kissing his way up my outstretched leg. The feeling was delicious. His warm lips and soft fingers stroked their way up my stocking-covered leg. When he reached the top of one leg, he bent down and started the process again on my other leg. Each kiss sent waves of pleasure through me, my skin tingling with every touch.
As he continued to worship me, my mind flashed back to another night, another adventure when I was the one doing the worshipping for a woman wearing similar stockings and heels. The memory intertwined with the present, enhancing the eroticism of the moment.
I looked down at Anthony's naked figure and saw that he was fully erect again. I had a hunch this might work. I knew he had a thing for my legs and ass and letting him enjoy them had done the trick.
"You're doing such a good job," I purred, running my fingers through his hair as he continued his kisses and caresses. The sight of him, completely entranced by my legs, filled me with a powerful sense of control and arousal.
I gently guided his head upward, bringing his lips closer to the tops of my thighs. "Keep going," I whispered, my voice thick with desire.
Anthony's hands roamed higher, his fingers tracing the garter straps and the edges of my shapewear. Every touch was electric, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. As his lips brushed against my inner thighs, I felt my pulse quicken, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
"You're so good at this," I moaned softly, encouraging him with my words and my touch.
Anthony looked up at me, his eyes dark with lust. "I want to make you feel good," he said, his voice husky with need.
"You already are," I replied, my own voice trembling with anticipation. "But I want something else now."
He paused his exploration, looking up at me from his kneeling position between my legs, a question in his eyes.
"You're hard again," I said.
"Yes, I am," he replied, glancing down at his reawakened erection.
"Stand up," I said.
Anthony complied, getting to his feet and standing before me, his stiff prick inches from my face.
I reached out a hand and slowly started stoking him again. He gasped slightly at the light touch of my fingers along his shaft.
"We should do something about this," I said with a lustful look.
"What do you have in mind?" he asked.
"Well, I think you should fuck me," I said.
"Really?" he asked, the excitement barely contained in his voice.
"Yes, really," I replied. I set my drink down on the table and slowly crawled to the center of the bed. The smooth bed cover felt cool against my palms and knees. Once there, I positioned myself on my hands and knees, lowering my upper body so that my ass was elevated and sticking up. Spreading my legs and arching my back, I looked over at Anthony.
"What are you waiting for?" I asked, wiggling my ass.
I could hear the slight rustle of the bed cover as Anthony moved closer. The air around us seemed to thicken with tension, each second stretching out into an eternity. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as I waited for his touch.
I felt the bed shift under his weight as he kneeled behind me. His hands were warm as they gripped my hips, fingers pressing into my flesh just enough to send a thrill through me. His touch was firm yet gentle, a perfect balance that made my skin vibrate with pleasure. I shivered slightly, a soft gasp escaping my lips as he leaned forward, his breath hot against my back.
He kissed the curve of my spine, his lips trailing down slowly, deliberately. Each kiss sent a ripple of heat through my body, the sensation building with every inch he traveled. His hands moved from my hips, sliding to caress my sides and legs, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just above my stockings. The contrast between the warmth of his hands and the cool air of the room made my skin tingle even more.
As he reached the small of my back, he paused, his warm breath ghosting through my slip sending shivers through me. The tension was almost unbearable, the waiting making every touch that much more intense.
Finally, he moved lower, his lips brushing against the curve of my exposed ass, his hands gripping me more firmly. I gasped, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. He kissed and nipped at my exposed skin, his teeth grazing just enough to make me arch my back, desperate for more.
"Don't stop," I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper.
His response was immediate, his hands and lips moving with more urgency, more passion. As he continued to kiss and caress the exposed skin of my ass, I felt a finger begin to trace a line down the crack of my ass stopping to lightly tease my puckered hole. I shuddered in pleasure at the delicate touch. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his touch, the heat of his breath.
The spell was broken as I felt him lean away from me, his hands leaving my body. Looking back, I saw him reach for the nightstand to grab a condom. Tearing it from its package, he extracted it and rolled it on quickly.
"Lube?" I asked.
"Oh, right," he said.
Grabbing the bottle of lube, he poured some into his hand and rubbed it onto his cock. Then he reached out and spread it on my asshole.
"Ooh, that's cold," I said with a shiver.
"Sorry," he replied, a note of mirth in his voice.
"It's ok, just be gentle. Start slowly," I said.
"I will," he said.
I felt the head of his cock press against my asshole. He pushed gently and I felt my rim give way as his cock slid into me.
"Oh, fuck," I moaned as he entered me, my hands making fists in the soft fabric of the bedspread. There was a flash of pain but nothing too bad and it quickly passed.
He grabbed my hips and continued to slowly push into me until he was fully inside. I could feel the heat of his flesh as his cock filled me.
"Are you ok?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," I replied.
He began to pull out and then slowly push back in, fucking me unhurriedly. I could feel the friction of his cock as it slid in and out of my asshole. I leaned my head lower, burying my face in a pillow.
I let him set the pace, his hands on my hips pulled me back and then pushed me away. With each pull he filled my hole with his meat. I felt his grip shift as he grabbed the garter straps and started to use them like reins on a horse. I smiled at the thought as he pulled on them, using them to pull me back onto his cock.
"Mmmmmmmm, fuck, yes," I moaned.
Anthony was silent as he fucked me, the only sounds he made were the quiet rustle of the bedspread and the soft slapping of our flesh connecting when he was fully inside me. I lifted my head from the pillow and looked over at the full length mirror against the wall of the bedroom. Anthony's gaze was locked on the mirror, enthralled watching himself fuck me. I liked the sight too.
In the mirror I watched what looked to be a fit young man slowly but vigorously fucking a tall, lean blonde woman doggy style. He was naked and she was dressed in what looked like vintage lingerie, stockings, and stiletto heels.
The sight, along with the sensations of Anthony fucking me stirred another erection in me. My cock was now rock hard, and I could feel it straining against the fabric of my slip.
"Fuck me harder," I moaned.
Anthony responded by increasing the speed and force of his thrusts. His cock was now slamming into me, filling me with each thrust.
Continuing to watch Anthony fuck me in the mirror, I reached down and pulled my slip up, freeing my cock. I wrapped my hand around it and began to stroke it in time with Anthony's thrusts.
"Oh, fuck, yes," I whispered as I stroked my cock.
I wanted to pace myself and savor every sensation. I focused on the pull of the garters on my stockings, the slight pinch of my stilettos digging into the bedspread, and the cool air caressing my exposed ass. Each thrust from Anthony sent a shiver through my body, the pressure of his cock on my prostate, combined with the rhythm of my hand stroking my own hard length, creating an intense and almost overwhelming pleasure.
The soft feel of the bedspread below me contrasted with the heat of Anthony's body pressed against mine. The room was filled with the heady scent of sweat and sex, adding to the erotic atmosphere. The mirror reflected our movements, a visual confirmation of our raw lust. I watched Anthony's face contorted in pleasure, his eyes half-closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Every detail heightened the experience—the sound of our bodies coming together, the taste of salt on my lips, the warmth spreading through my core. My heartbeat quickened, each pulse echoing the building intensity within me. I could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter.
Anthony's hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he drove deeper. The sensation was exquisite, a blend of pleasure and a hint of pain that pushed me closer to the edge. My own hand moved faster, the friction against my throbbing cock matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
I closed my eyes, letting the waves of sensation wash over me. The tension built to a crescendo, and I felt my body begin to tremble. The inevitable orgasm surged through me, a powerful release that left me gasping and moaning in pure ecstasy. I came with an intensity that was staggering. My hot seed shooting out, covering my hand and the bedspread beneath me. Every muscle tensed, then relaxed as pleasure cascaded through me, leaving me panting and spent. I groaned and shuddered as waves of pleasure rolled over me. I collapsed with my orgasm, my head falling back onto the pillows, and my body slumping down onto the bed. Aftershocks of pleasure coursed through me, leaving me breathless and trembling.
Anthony continued to fuck me, his cock sliding in and out of my asshole with a relentless rhythm. He quickly adjusted his position, laying on top of me, his cock never leaving my ass. He continued to fuck me with increased intensity, his thrusts becoming more urgent and powerful, the sound of his lust echoed in the slapping sound of his body against my ass. Each movement sent a jolt through my body.
"I'm going to cum," he moaned, his voice hoarse and low.
I felt his cock stiffen deep inside me as he came. His hot seed filled the condom, the sensation of him emptying himself into me both intimate and intense. His sounds of pleasure echoed in my ears, a symphony of our shared ecstasy.
He collapsed on top of me, his warm body covering my back, his breath hot and heavy against my neck. We both lay there, spent from our powerful orgasms, our bodies slick with sweat and the aftermath of our passion. The room was filled with the mingled scents of sex and satisfaction, a heady reminder of our lust.
A few moments later, I felt his cock start to shrink, the gradual loss of fullness a strange sensation. He pulled out of me gently, rolling off to lie beside me. His head rested inches from mine, our breathing gradually returning to normal.
The afterglow of our encounter wrapped around us like a warm, comforting blanket. We were both silent, basking in the shared intimacy and the intense connection that had just transpired between us.
"That was amazing," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction.
"Wow," was the only reply I could manage, still catching my breath.
Still lying on my stomach on the bed, I peered at Anthony through the disheveled hair of my wig. His face wore a contented and satiated smile, his eyes half-closed in a dreamy haze. My body felt heavy and languid, each muscle deliciously exhausted from the intensity of our encounter. The cool air of the room kissed my skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from my flushed body. My heart gradually slowed its frantic pace, pleasant aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through me.
Anthony shifted slightly, his hand reaching out to rest gently on my back. The warmth of his touch was a comforting connection, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my back. I felt a deep sense of contentment, a serene calm settling over me.
We lay like that for a few minutes, neither one of us talking, both basking in the shared afterglow. The silence between us was comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of our breathing and the occasional rustle of the bedcovers.
In that quiet moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of us, tangled in the aftermath of our passion, lost in a shared reverie. The intimacy of the moment enveloped us, a cocoon of warmth and satisfaction that made the rest of the world fade away.
After a few more minutes Anthony got up, walked to the bathroom where he peeled the filled condom off and tossed it into the trash.
"Well, I guess I should be going," he said, his voice tinged with reluctant finality.
"You don't have to leave," I said, my tone soft and inviting.
"I know, but I should," he replied, a hint of regret in his eyes, "My wife..."
"Ok," I said, nodding in understanding.
Anthony grabbed his clothes from the floor and started getting dressed. He kept his back to me while he dressed as if embarrassed to let me see him naked. As he dressed, I moved to the edge of the bed and sat, pulling the hem of my slip down to cover myself then crossing my legs. A sudden feeling of self-consciousness rose in me now that we were done.
Once he was fully dressed, he turned back to me. I took a breath and forced a smile onto my face, hoping to hide the growing sense of awkwardness rising in me. I extended a hand toward him to help me to my feet.
He stepped toward me and for the second time that night he surprised me. Taking my hand, he bent slowly at the waist and brought his lips down to kiss the back of my outstretched hand. I think I actually blushed a bit at this small show of chivalry. The self-consciousness of a moment before vanished with this small gesture. Then his grip firmed, and he helped pull me up off the bed and onto my feet.
I walked him to the door, our steps slow and unhurried. We shared a look, a silent acknowledgment of the connection we had forged. His eyes were warm and appreciative, reflecting the shared intimacy of the evening.
"Thank you," he said, his voice earnest.
"For what?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"For everything," he replied, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "You're the best thing that's happened to me in the last year."
"You're welcome," I said, feeling a rush of warmth. It was nice to be appreciated.
He turned and left, closing the door behind him with a soft click. I stood there for a moment, the room suddenly feeling much larger and quieter. The echoes of our erotic activities seemed to linger in the air.
"Wow," I said to myself, shaking my head in amazement at what had just happened, what I had let happen. The events of the evening replayed in my mind, each moment vivid and thrilling. I could still feel the intoxicating blend of emotions and sensations that had flowed through me.
A shiver ran down my spine as I moved to the bed, my heels virtually silent on the soft carpeting. The surrealness of the experience left me breathless, a smile tugging at my lips as I whispered to the empty room, "Not bad. Not bad at all."
Kicking off my heels I climbed onto the bed, careful to avoid the damp patch at the center and ran through the events of the evening once more in my mind. It wasn't long till I drifted off to sleep.
Hazy sunlight streamed in through the gauzy curtains of the window in my hotel room. I lay on the bed, still dressed in my shapewear slip, bra, garter belt, and stockings. My body ached pleasantly from the erotic activities of the night before. Stretching, I slid to the edge of the bed and sat, my stocking-covered legs dangling off the side.
Looking toward the full-length mirror on the wall of the bedroom, I saw my reflection. It looked like a trim middle-aged woman wearing black lingerie and mocha-colored stockings. Her blonde hair was disheveled and hung down, obscuring her smokey blue eyes. Her makeup was smudged, and a tired but contented expression was on her face.
"Not bad. Not bad at all," I whispered to my reflection.
Looking around the room, I saw my clothes scattered across the floor of the sitting room of the suite. In the bedroom, two empty glasses of whiskey sat on the nearby table next to the bottle of lube. My panties still lay on the edge of the bed where I had tossed them. Glancing at the bathroom, I could see the spent condom hanging off the side of the wastebasket. All were vivid reminders of the night before.
I stood and started to strip, unclipping the stockings from the garters and rolling them down my legs. The feel of the nylon sliding against my smooth skin sent a shiver through me, a final remnant of the night's pleasures. I shimmied out of my shapewear slip and unhooked the bra, the release of pressure from the garment a small relief to my chest. I headed toward the shower, each step a reminder of the soreness and satisfaction that lingered.
As the hot water cascaded over me, I felt the makeup and the residue of sex wash away, cleansing me of the night's indulgences. The steam enveloped me, and I let out a sigh, allowing myself a moment to relish the solitude and peace. I knew I would soon return to my mundane life, but for now, I savored the lingering sensations and the memories of a night that had been an amazing adventure.