passion Dances
passion for her Dances. Please do not steal her dances she writes them herself and if you are that needful that you would resort to theft that is just sad.
passion dances for her Master in hopes to stir his blood.
~*~tendrils black as midnight drawn back from her porcelain face, a mass of soft curls piled high atop her head, passion slinks in from the hallway. A business suit of grey and black that masks her figure from his view, the thick fabric hiding the curves of her slender young flesh. Translucent silk stockings cling to the curves of her supple calves, her ankles bound by the thin straps of her black heels. passion's warm doe eyes drift upward to him, a smile playing at the corner of her painted ruby lips, soft dove grey shadow lining her luminous eyes.~*~
~*~Eyes locked to his, her slender arms rise, fingertips nestling in her captive mane, and delicately slipping forth the sliver pins that restrictively coil her ebony tresses, and tossing them aside. An avalanche of unbound curls plummet down her back, a smile gracing her countenance as she feels the weight lift from the crown of her head. Fanning her fingers through her fallen hair, she tosses it out behind her, laughs softly with joy as she sinks down to one knee, under his gaze.~*~
~*~centering herself over one knee, passion points her toe to the ground, her hand clasping the curve of her ankle, fingers slipping the strap of her heel from the fastening, the tender, smooth arch of her foot exposed to him as she slips the shoe off. Rocking back, her smooth, round bottom settling onto the floor, passion extends her long, shapely leg, bending forward to remove the second shoe. Running her hands over the smooth, silky sheen of the stocking that clings to her flesh, she shivers with pleasure, aware of his eyes upon her. Rising back to her knees, passion kneels up, her flesh all of a sudden to warm and slick under the layers of constrictive clothing.~*~
~*~Reaching quickly for the buttons that hide her from his view, her wild eyes reach out to his, seeing his calm appraisal of her at his feet. Anxious to expose her beauty to him, desperate in the hope that she will please him, passion strips away the heavy cloth shirt, a gauzy black bra still restraining her firm, round breasts from his gaze. In a flurry of motion, she springs to her feet, hands snapping behind her back to slide loose the zipper that binds the skirt to her tapered hips. As she pulls at the zipper, she wails in anguish as she feels it stick, catching the cloth in it's vicious teeth. With a final tug, her frenzy building, passion frees herself from the skirt, crying out with triumph as it falls heavily to pool around her ankles.~*~
~*~Standing before him, clad only in her sheer brassiere, tight-fitting panties, and shiny stockings, she settles her weight on her left side, the right curve of her hip subtly rising. Extending her leg, planting her toes on the edge of the chair where he sits, she draws forth the stocking, the tone and rosy hue of her leg exposed to him as she languidly frees herself of its impediment. Moving in close to him, her leg returns to the floor, the second one rising as she leans in to his neck, soft warm lips kissing at his flesh with adoration as she slides the remaining stocking from her heated, flushing flesh~*~
~*~Tearing herself away from his masculine power, she slides her smooth, vulnerable palms to her hips, catching the panties and drawing them off to her feet. Stepping out of the slinky panties, her smooth, shorn heat burning with ache for him, passion melts to her knees, taut thighs parting wide as she rocks back on her heels. Reaching up to her heaving breasts, her breath intake rapidly increasing, she unhooks the fastening on her brassiere, hesitating just a moment before flinging it far across the room, her quivering, pristine slave flesh finally exposed to him with no barrier.~*~
~*~Creeping close to the edge of the chair where he sits, her heart crying out for acceptance, she moans softly to him, begging him to give her any sign that he may find her not entirely without interest. Kneeling up, her hands slipping boldly to his thighs, roaming over the cloth that separates her from him, she looks up at him piteously, her face a mask of desperation. Ruby lips part as her naked body presses closer to him, bared for his pleasure, her flesh on fire for the merest caress of his hand, her low, throaty, quavering voice ventures forth...~*~
~*~Master...Let your passion please you...~*~
~*~The deafening silence is broken only by the thundering of her aching heart.~*~
~*~passion drops her head to his lap, hot tears staining her cheeks as her tousled mane obscures her fine features, crying piteously into the hard, unyielding flesh of him, begging silently that he will not cuff her from him. In a rush of motion, she feels the hair at the back of her neck captured by his rough grasp, her startled face drawn up, his lips crushing down hungrily upon hers. Tears of abject joy stream over her sun kissed cheeks as he presses her hot, aching form to him, her slender body wracked with sobs of joy.~*~
