What the hell am I even doing here?, Lukas thought, as he lit the last candle on the table. The smell of the match still hung in the air, mixing with the scent of warm wax and something that smelled like hope. He, who had always claimed romance was for people without imagination, now stood in his own apartment, surrounded by flickering light, waiting for a woman he had only known for three weeks. Three weeks, in which she had completely thrown him off course—robbed him of sleep, occupied his thoughts, set his skin on fire. But that was exactly what drew him to her: her way of seeing things differently, of seeing him differently. As if she were the only one who looked through the facade and recognized the man beneath it.
The doorbell tore him from his thoughts. His heart leaped as he opened it. She stood there, in the glow of the hallway light, a smile on her lips that took his breath away every time. Tonight she wore a dark dress that hugged her curves like a second skin. “You put up candles,” she said softly as she entered. Her voice sounded surprised, but not unpleasant—rather, as if she had discovered a hidden treasure in him. “That’s… beautiful.” She turned to him, and her eyes glistened in the candlelight, deep and full of secrets. “I wanted to do something special,” he confessed, suddenly feeling insecure, naked under her gaze. “Come, sit down.”
The Surprise
She let herself fall onto the sofa while he went to the table and opened a bottle of wine. The cork came loose with a soft pop, and the red scent rose to his nose. “I have a surprise for you,” she said as he handed her a glass. Her tone was playful, but he recognized a certain tension in it—a weight lurking beneath the surface. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small package wrapped in velvet. “For you.”
Lukas sat down next to her. His fingers trembled slightly as he removed the cloth. What came to light was a small, silver chain with a pendant: a flickering flame, intricately crafted, as if it were actually burning. “Because you make me feel like a light is burning inside me that never goes out,” she said, her voice almost breaking. “I want you to always carry this with you.” He looked at the jewelry, then into her eyes, where tears shimmered. Something inside him loosened—a wall he had built for years crumbled in that single moment. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, buried his face in her hair. It smelled of vanilla and warmth. “I love you,” he whispered, and the words felt right, for the first time in a long time.
The Approach
They pulled apart, but their hands found each other. Lukas brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them one by one, feeling their warmth on his skin. “I want to feel you,” he murmured against her skin. She nodded, and he leaned forward to kiss her neck. She smelled of vanilla and something salty, of her—a scent that drove him wild. His lips traveled lower, following the neckline of her dress, while his tongue gently stroked her skin. She let out a soft moan and let her head fall back, offering him her neck like an offering. Her hands dug into his hair, pulling gently. “Slowly,” she breathed, but it sounded more like a plea than a command—a begging that aroused him even more.
He stood up and pulled her up. Slowly, almost reverently, he unzipped her dress. The sound tore through the silence, and the fabric slid over her shoulders and fell to the floor. She stood before him, clad only in a thin lace bra and panties that promised more than they concealed. In the candlelight, her skin looked like polished ivory, soft and warm. He stepped closer, placed his hands on her hips and let them slide down until he felt the fabric of her underwear. “You are so beautiful,” he said, and meant it—every word burned in his throat. She blushed, but her gaze lingered on his lips, thirsty and hungry. He leaned forward and kissed her, deep and demanding, while his hands cupped her ass and pressed her against him. He felt her heat through the thin fabric, her heartbeat pounding against his chest.
The Foreplay
He carried her into the bedroom, laid her on the white sheet. The candlelight fell through the door and painted shadows on the walls—dancing silhouettes that mirrored their movements. He sank down beside her, his mouth found her breast. Through the fabric of her bra, he licked over her hard nipple, felt it stiffen under his tongue until she writhed beneath him. “More,” she whispered, and his fingers found the clasp. The bra came undone with a click, and her breasts came into view, firm and warm, the nipples deep pink and hard. He took one in his mouth, sucked gently, while his hand stroked the other, caressing the areola. She moaned, arched towards him, offered herself to him. Her fingers tugged at his shirt, and he helped her take it off, almost tearing it from his body. Skin on skin, that was what he wanted—her warmth, her trembling, her desire. He felt her hips press against his, felt her heat through the thin fabric of her panties, a fire that burned under his skin.
His hand wandered lower, slid under the waistband of her panties. She was wet, ready—the warmth of her center hit him like a wave. As he stroked her clit, she flinched and let out a sharp breath. “Yes, there,” she begged, her voice hoarse with desire. But he wanted to torment her longer, wanted to squeeze every sound, every movement out of her. He pulled his hand back and instead kissed down her belly, caressed her navel with his tongue, let his lips wander over the inside of her thighs—to where the skin was softest. She trembled, opened up to him, her legs gliding apart as if by themselves. When he finally removed her panties with his teeth, she was wet and hot, her taste already in the air. He dipped his tongue into her, felt her taste on his tongue—a mixture of salt and sweetness that made him drunk. She clawed into the sheet, moaned his name, a prayer on her lips. “Don’t stop,” she panted, but he wanted more. He wanted everything.
He let his tongue circle, sometimes gently, sometimes demanding, and felt her tense beneath him. Her hips moved in rhythm, seeking his mouth, riding his tongue. He took her clit between his lips, sucked lightly, and she cried out—a sharp, sweet sound that echoed through the room. “Oh God, Luk
Voices from the community
No voices yet — be the first to say what turned you on.
