PARIS EXPOSE out today

Come soon, Andre. She glanced over to the
mantel clock. Ten minutes after ten. Where was he?
As if on cue, he strolled into view.
As every day before, his beauty took her breath
away.
He was a big man, sculpted but lithe, filling the
window and her whole world with his black-haired
handsomeness. This morning, as each one before, he
grinned at her as his cock rose to greet her without
putting a finger to himself—just by staring at her—
and grinning. Today, he smoked no cigarette but
glanced down at his cock as it filled with blue-veined
desire and reached toward her. His long winged
brows arched as he taunted her with a few pumps of
his cock, making her cunt juice up as he pulled his
thick head to a blunt point and rubbed the tip when
drops of cum appeared. Then, just as his lambent
eyes began to close, just as she became breathless
and fearful he would step back into the shadows of
his condo, she jumped up from the arm of the sofa.
“Don’t go,” she pleaded in English, as if he could
hear her.
He paused, noting her approach. It was
different, new, to interrupt him.
Dee swallowed all her inhibitions and did the
one thing she had planned for this morning.
She grasped her shirt at the hem, pulled it over
her head and threw it aside. Shaking out her long
blonde hair so that her fat finger curls draped
around her naked nipples, she paused to catch her
breath.
Did she imagine that he caught his?
Yes, he had. He was immobile as a statue,
focused on her. She glanced down at how her areolas
pointed toward him and she preened, grinning at
him.
His lush mouth spread wide in delight. And he
arched a black brow at her as if to ask, what else?
She tipped her head and laughed lightly. Then
she reached in back of her to flick open the button on
her skirt, and in one shimmy, the thing fell to the
floor.
She raised her face to view his. And oh, she was
not disappointed. (copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)