It was a temptation to push and pull the fragile silken threads from off of her shoulders and expose the breasts which distended the fabric with promise. Her yielding yet unhurriedly undressing made me want to hurt her so as to create some reaction towards me, as I was reacting to her. My gaze was ravenous, admiring, worshiping; she felt it try to penetrate past her reserve, felt how attentive I was to every gesture or movement. She met my gaze completely unashamedly and I did not back down from the intensity, did not pretend how lustful I desired her.
Still, she moved passively, and the more I wanted to behave violently towards her. She was removing clothing with confident deliberateness as if it was a ritual that could not be changed. She looked unapologetic at me and smiled, flashed small even teeth between full lips, and the glimpse of skin on bared shoulders when the silk parted caught the light and held it like the flesh was also made of satin. She held the parted pieces as if unintentionally at her waist, the folds teasingly caught on her stiffened nipples. She continued to look at me as her hand moved away to beckon me closer, the cascading silk revealing a soft satin skin and I needed no further encouragement now that she showed me the smallest interest.
She had lace bra and matching panties with garters, and I’m sure that the creation of lingerie was divine but I was beyond observing heaven; the waiting had been hell and I wanted the heated passion that refused to be tampered down. I rushed to hold my body against hers, my slanted mouth crashed down upon those soft inviting lips so hard I might have tasted blood, pressed her hard into the mattress, pinned her down with hips while my hands were everywhere at once and murmured a false apology as fingers grabbed her stockinged thigh and gripped the gossamer threads to render them apart. Fingertips pressed against warm skin, pushed the thigh to bend to my will and allow my further between her legs, and traveled down the length to the delicate arch of her foot, dragging the destroyed fabric with it.
It made an excellent gag to twist and shove between her tempting lips, tying it along the side of her head. I was unsure if those lips curved into a smile at the reactionary way I was handling her, imagined it if nothing else in my fervor to possess every inch of skin. A knife scratched up the length of leg to travel the cold steel along the side of her hip, the lace parted like soft butter and I gripped it to shove over, exposing the pink glistening of her sex. I quite liked the other half of her leg still the memento of damnable temptation that I was removing to suit my own desires.
More carefully, I slid the blade between the hollow valley of her breasts slowly and watched for her to dare deny this pleasure. Her eyes were half mast as if she too were mesmerized at being bared in such a way, so yanked upwards with such force that the fabric held for just the slightest to also arch her back up towards me before splitting with the force and yielding her softness back onto the mattress and the vision of breasts and pinpointed nipples to my gaze.
My hands would be everywhere at once, so would my mouth, until her cries and pleas beckoned towards heaven.