I am honing in on you. I will start very slowly–perfectly grooming myself for the “kill.” I make sure my hair is perfect–I wear it down so that it kisses my shoulders and that delightful spot between my shoulder blades. I wear an open backed dress–the hemline is to the mid-thigh. The dress is ruby red. I make sure that I put on just enough make-up. I prefer men who enjoy the look of sophistication as opposed to one that drools of slut. When the weather is warm–and it has been lately I do not wear panties or stockings. I like to accentuate my look with a pair of matching strappy sandals–the kind with a 4” heel. I am practiced at walking in them–I am elegant–you prefer elegant.
I stalk you and follow you everywhere so that you are going to see me (sometimes out of the corner of your eye, sometimes not). At first your dick grows so hard at first glance that you find you have to go to the rest room. You just need to touch a little big–you love a little edge play. Seeing such a beautiful woman motivates you to build things up.
It doesn’t stop there because I continue this pursuit and you continue your edge play. You golf a few holes and have to leave the course due to the ache in your now blue balls. When you pull your cart to the club house you find I am sitting there wearing a wide-brimmed red hat. I am sipping a drink with my cultivated lips. The clubhouse is closed and we are alone.
I rise up from my chair and introduce myself. I take note of the large bulge in your crotch. I give you a crooked smile that doubles as an offer to help relieve you of your pain. Of course the pain has only just begun.
We make out–hard behind the club house where I wrap my spindly fingers around your cock for the first time. I squeeze to prevent you from cumming–I stroke just below the threshold required to make you shoot. I keep you on the edge for a long, long time. I promise that I’ll relieve you later–I just need to be in a more private area.
You show up to my house–an expansive work of architecture that sits right on the golf course. You come inside. Have a drink–you feel sleepy.
When you wake you are in my basement–tied to a massage table. I have oils, peppermints, instruments of delight all for our edge playing phone sex pleasure…
You look at me and realize as you stare into these hypnotic blue eyes that it will be a long, long night indeed.