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Thursday, April 19, 2007

Jaded {Part One}


The Torrid Tale Of Jaded



Jade was the perfect Parisian. Everything about her was so feminine, so mannered. She had a diaphanous beauty, she was sophisticated and elegant, class and charm were emanating from her whole being.



A touch or eroticism was hanging continuously around her. Her body, her life were devoted to voluptuous delight. She was not making love, she was offering herself, she was not kissing, she was drinking pleasure. All in her was desires, all in her was cravings, all in her was sex drives and sensuality. She was living just to be appealing, to conquer, to love, to arouse.

She covered her supple and slender body only with silk, the erotic material above all else. She was aroused by the touch of the silk on her naked skin, the silk shaped the curves of her loving body so perfectly. Always completely nude under her dresses, skirts and blouses, she loved so much to feel her breasts, to feel her nipples hardening and showing under the silk which was revealing them without any modesty, moulding their tips, showing their erection.

What a sensual pleasure for Jade to walk nude under her silk dresses in the streets, to feel her breasts swaying with each of her steps, brushing against the soft material covering them. She loved to let her clothes caress her. Because of her swaying walk, she could feel her dress slipping all along her back, brushing gently her hips, caressing her belly, touching lightly her thighs. The silk was a second skin for her, it was part of herself, arousing her senses. But it was also her main weapon for seduction.

Jade was able to give life to her dress, making it twirl or undulate around and all along her body, along her long and slender legs, along her athletic thighs that one could just make out through the silk. Being naked under her dress gave her constantly renewed sensations.
Jade also adored to sit down while lifting up her dress behind her to be able to feel the cool freshness of a stone bench directly on her naked buttocks, and against her offered lips, to feel the leather softness of an armchair or the biting cold of a metal chair. The coldness, the softness, the warmth, the hardness, all of these were arousing to her, and each time it made her so moist with the arousing sensations.

Last day, she was in a Café, near the Rivoli street, a traditional Café with wall seats and big mirrors running along the walls. She was sitting in the middle of a big brown leather wall seat, just in front of the entry door, drinking a glass of wine which was as red and as velvet as her lips.
At the table near her, two young women were chatting, laughing. She could feel a strong intimacy between them, more than just a simple friendship.

The little fair haired women could not stop glancing at Jade, it was as if she was fascinated by her animal beauty, by her green elongated cat eyes and her mane of curly red hair. She was glancing discreetly but Jade was a female animal always wide awake, always on the watch, able to detect the most imperceptible details.

She had immediately noticed the glances of the young lady secretly watching her while she was drinking, savouring, inhaling with delicacy the red wine that was now getting her slightly drunk. She was appreciating the smoothness of the leather from the wall seat under her naked buttocks, against the lips of her offered sex. Each sip of the red nectar seemed to glide between her lips then into her throat to magnify the smooth warmth that she was feeling between her thighs.





2 comments:

Djierke said...

Third times a charm My Precious...*grins*. Seems like The Attic has found a new home and I'm already beginning to like the decor...
~Dirk

₪Μy§TẲfiЄĐ₪! said...

lol but are you coming back to spaces?
p.s. I am only lol'ing cause I just read Dirk's comment lol

awwww I love your site

Love Garry xoxo

That's Life

That's Life
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The Master Of Her Domain

The Master Of Her Domain
There is One for everyone. The Master of my Domain is the axis in which my world spins. There shall only be but One. Among men and women, those in love do not always announce themselves with declarations and vows. But they are the ones who weep when you're gone. Who miss you every single night, especially when the sky is so deep and beautiful, and the ground so very cold......