Intimate Exposure by Portia Da Costa

intense turn-on. Having her anus fondled seemed wickedly dark and forbidden, but it made her sex rouse, flexing hungrily.

    “Show me. Show me what I’m touching,” he purred, pressing harder. “We have a little time before dinner. Let’s use it productively.”
    Withdrawing his hand, he put her a little way away from him, facing her towards the television screen and away from him. He reached out and took her bag from her, setting it aside.
    “Show me,” he repeated, much more firmly.
    Vicki took a deep breath and leaned forward from the waist. Placing her palms on her thighs, she slid up the skirt of the long black gown, gathering the satin as she went. When the hem fluttered at midthigh, she paused, gathered her nerve and finally flipped the slippery material up over her back, exposing her buttocks.
    Though she couldn’t see him, she could imagine Red scrutinizing her, his dark head tipped to one side in that characteristic and almost hawklike affectation of his. It was quite distinctive and ruthless. It made her shudder, the prey to his predator.
    “You have a truly magnificent arse, my sweet.”
    He took a step or two towards her, and the displacement of air wafted against her nakedness, a cool contrast to the boiling turbulent heat in her pussy. She could almost imagine her silky arousal glinting on her folds, noted and appraised by Red’s all-seeing eyes.
    “Set your feet further apart,” he said, his fingertips resting ever so lightly on her bottom.
    “Now hold open your cheeks. I want to see everything.”
    A fine tremor ran through Vicki’s body, and her heart thudded like drum. This was so shaming but so delicious. As she reached behind and opened herself, she tried to imagine what he was seeing. The startling contrast between the inky black satin of her gloves and the smooth, creamy whiteness of her arse, and in the division, a soft rosy tint.
    Breathing hard, she held her pose while Red paced to and fro, just feet from her rudely bared sex and anal furrow. She pictured him studying her closely, stroking his dark beard thoughtfully, the connoisseur assessing a fine possession.
    “Oh, how you tempt me, beautiful Vicki,” he murmured, his voice so low she could barely hear it. “I would so like to take you there…right now. Just as you are. Holding yourself open like that.” He paused in his pacing, and for a moment Vicki held her breath, waiting for the sound of a smooth, expensive zipper being drawn down.
    But it didn’t come, and though she was grateful, because she’d been a little afraid, she was also disappointed. Her dark libido craved the crude penetration.
    “Does that excite you, Vicki? The thought of that?”
    He was closer now. Oh, so much closer. Leaning over her back, the smooth worsted cloth of his dinner suit brushing against her thighs and her bottom and her gloved hands. His voice was both taunting and infinitely thrilling in her ears, and she could smell that fabulous cologne of his, its intoxicating spice an aphrodisiac.
    She could feel his erection, dangerously near, through his clothing.
    “Imagine that, Vicki. Me buggering you. Wouldn’t that be sublime?” A hand slid underneath her, cupping her breast through the satin of her bodice. “And men watching us…dozens of them…all wishing they were me, buried up to their balls in your divine backside.”
    Vicki moaned. She couldn’t stop herself. Nor could she prevent herself from churning her bottom and trying to rub herself against him, massage the opened rose of her anus against his immaculate suit trousers.
    When his hand went to his waistband, her knees nearly failed her. But he caught her to him, holding her upright, and they stayed like that, frozen in time for what seemed an eternity but was really only a second or two.

    Then he moved away, straightening her up as he went and allowing the skirt of her dress to float back down over her hips, her thighs and finally her calves.
    “We’ll be late for cocktails, my