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Slick evidence of my earlier orgasm coats the pale snow and night-black lace of my inner thighs; the pearlescent glimmer on stockinged skin mirrors the sparks in your eyes.  I hold your gaze as my body accepts the wandering visual caresses of our expectant audience, quiet in their ungasped exclamations; watching, wanting, waiting…

The visceral heat of their desire spirals sensation to the feminine core of my being until I feel I must combust, and my skin stings:  hot, flushed, pink.

Sinking back on the mattress, the throb of my heart beats a rapid tattoo, pulsing through my trembling clit.  I run my fingers down my soaked slit, parting my lips for your perusal; soft, wet, glistening, wanton.

One heartbeat.


Time is molasses, slowly dripping…


I close my eyes on a sigh…

And snap them open with a sensual shudder when your shoulders stretch my splayed stance further, straining my already shaking thighs in order to inhale my essence; first a pleasure for your senses, then a feast for your eyes as our voyeurs settle in to partake of the delicious vision that is Us.  Your tongue steals a taste of the liquid refreshment dripping from my swollen bundle of nerves, flitting, flicking, fluttering, flirting; battering, beating; immediately, intensely.

You asked me before we began if I could cum again, and with my nod, the gauntlet was thrown:  No quarter.  No mercy.

Breathe out…

My gasp has a domino effect on the room, and as the driving music of sighs and moans quickly crescendo, I share my thoughts with a smile:  Raise your baton, maestro.  This opus has just begun.

0 thoughts on “Exhibition

    1. Mrs Fever Post author

      I’m not sure what kind of memories DO fade fast.

      I have an excellent memory… Where everything sexual is concerned, anyway.

      Okay, maybe not everything sexual. I instigated a little escapade in a Las Vegas hot tub once (gasp!), and I haven’t the faintest recollection of what happened to my bikini bottoms. I somehow managed to lose them (luckily I had a towel with me, or I’d have been running buck naked across the lawn to get back to my bungalow), and I haven’t the foggiest notion where they went.

      There is nothing foggy about my most recent exhibitionist adventure though. That night made for some fantastic memories. 😀

      1. williamsjoel22

        You know,”they” say…”Whatever happens in ‘Vegas,
        (fun in the hot tub), stays in ‘Vegas”, (Your bikini
        bottoms?). I suspect that “Somebody” has for themselves a trophy on their wall and a story to tell of a wild Las Vegas night. 😉

        1. Mrs Fever Post author

          Whenever I do laundry, I wind up with missing socks. So naturally I assume that my washing machine has specific dietary requirements, and therefore ‘eats’ my socks. (Well, it eats my husband’s socks, if you want to be specific.)

          The hot tub I was in probably just needed some extra fiber in its diet, and had a craving for bikini bottoms… 😛

  1. williamsjoel22

    They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Your story is worth
    a thousand pictures, all going through my mind. Thanks for
    sharing with us another adventure of Mrs. Fever 🙂

  2. Pingback: Getting Off The Merry-Go-Round: Playing With The Swing Set | Temperature's Rising

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