Satin to Satin

Satin to Satin
Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

Brian kneeled and pushing his face against the beige carpet, he peered into the darkness. Seeing nothing but the silhouettes of undefinables, he twisted over and reached his hand into the dusty realm beneath his old walnut dresser. Brian extracted a ball point pen and a sock and sneezed into the particulate cloud. He tossed the pen atop the dark wooden surface above and the sock into a pile of dirty clothes and reached back into the narrow abyss. His fingers touched a thin piece of metal and Brian smiled.

“There you are,” he said. Brian’s hand brushed another sock as he pulled out the key. “Thank you,” he said, eyeing the cut brass. He reached in again to retrieve the rogue sock. Instead he found a pair of dull pink satin panties.

Brian stood and fingered the soft fabric as he placed his spare apartment key on the dresser top. Memories stirred as he felt the delicate sheen of the flimsy undergarment.

“Stephanie’s,” he said, feeling the wash of dormant emotion. It had been one of the last nights she was over here, Brian thought, that she wore these. Images colored his thoughts. She had been wearing that faded green anchor splash t-shirt that she sometimes wore to cover her bathing suit en route to the pool. Brian sat down on the edge of his bed.

Holding the thin strips of crimped elastic at the right and left of the panties, Brian considered the triangular aft, still almost curved by the bottom they once held. He could still see the picture, as Stephanie leaned over to touch up her mascara, the pale green shirt drifting up as she bent closer. Brian had paused, mesmerized in the hug of soft pink over the round globes of her behind, delighting in the way the fabric clung to the deep valley between each cheek, the intimations of beauty as the cloth disappeared between her thighs.

Brian had sat on the bed, just this way, when Steph suddenly turned around, looking magnificent, casual in her intimacy, seductive in her smile and she lifted the shirt over her head. She had shaken her long yellow mane of hair free, and moving provocatively forward, she reached up to pull the streaming locks into a sultry pose. Her breasts, full and creamy white, jostled with a supple liquidity and Brian remembered the shudder of excitement that gripped him as her big dark nipples began to tighten. Stephanie laughed and jiggled her breasts with both hands, pushing the stiff nubs toward him.

“Bang, bang,” she had said, squeezing each soft tit in turn.

Stephanie had danced while he’d watched, enchanted by the vision, her hips rocking from side to side, her aqua blue eyes radiant with her sense of mischief, her hand laid over her tummy as she slowly turned around. Brian remembered the constant assaults of delight as he drank the heated visions of lifted breasts, lean legs, and Stephanie’s perpetually laughing smile.

Brian teased the pink satin as he remembered the stop, when Stephanie bent herself forward while she pressed her ass back and began to wiggle the panties down while he’d watched. The descent of her hands, hooked at the thin elastic sides, came slow and deliberate, inch by inch to reveal the lucent white of her perfectly untanned bottom, the valley deep and only achingly uncovered. Brian could almost see the swollen lips of her ruddy cunt, tickled with gold, swollen and damp.

Brian lifted the panties to his nose and deeply inhaled her lingering scent. A wash of lust poured over him, erecting his cock in a throbbing hard rush and Brian, panties still over his face, lay back on the bed and pushed down his shorts. The distinctive sharp musk of Stephanie’s aroma, the delicious lost taste of her dripping wet cunt, memories latent and never quite gone made Brian lurch as he touched his stiff cock.

Teasing his cheeks with the satin, drenched in faint smells, Brian wrapped his fingers around his trembling meat. He conjured the delicate folds of her flesh, flushed pink with desire, moist with a river of dew and he stroked his hard dick as he would have stroked her with his tongue, fast and hungry. Steph’s clit had shone almost white when he licked her, and she had eagerly pushed the madness of her pleasure against his lapping tongue. Brian teased the tickled underbelly of his prick with a familiar touch, remembering the soft pucker of her ass as she let his rogue finger slip down inside. She would arch her back as the fire grew hot and Brian’s tongue would drive wildly over her gushing wet cunt and Steph would ride the fingers in her asshole until she came in convulsions and giggles and screams.

Brian took the pink satin into his right hand and rubbed his hard prick with the slippery silk. Steph could suck him and fuck him and he remembered the night when she’d told him to spank her and he’d left faint handprints on her white ass, and the madness within her as he took her went ferocious and she begged him to take her and he pulled his dick free of her pussy and she leaned back on her haunches to press it against him and Steph had moaned low, almost a growl, when he’d pushed his way deeply into her sweet ass and the first clutching shudders of her bottom had driven him wild beyond wild and she’d put a quick finger against her hot clitty and in a sudden meltdown Stephanie began to come and come and forever come.

Brian remembered the ecstasy within her sweet ass and shot a streaming spurt of white lust over his belly and onto his chest and his breath fell short and his prick ached with the hard beating. He wiped his juice on her panties and sighed.

She had gone. Steph had drifted away in the few weeks coming after and Brian couldn’t help but wonder why as he had wondered a thousand times before. He stretched the damp panties onto the bed and knew he had never stopped loving her, but she’d drifted away, growing bored, growing restless. They’d hardly even fought. She just stopped responding.

Brian wiped his eyes with a dry corner of satin and threw the pink panties onto his dresser.

“I’d better shower,” he said, pushing his shorts past his feet. “Maybe I should stop by the mall before I pick Allison up. I wonder what size panties she wears.” Brian laughed, tickling himself with the lewd thoughts of new love.

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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