Helene sits beside me at her dining room table, which she has set for an elegant dinner. She looks cool and especially blonde tonight in the cocktail dress, free of underwear one can assume, her hair lightly tickling her petite shoulders.
We have not yet brought any food in from the kitchen. Helene has whispered that there is something she wants to do here at the table before we eat. It is just the two of us this evening, so we can pace things however we please.
She unzips me. My cock is already starting to peek through the slit in my boxers. Before it emerges, however, Helene unfolds one of the thick, silver dinner napkins that embellish the linen tablecloth. She tucks one corner of it into the open fly of my trousers, the way one would normally tuck a napkin into the collar of one's shirt. As she urges this part of the napkin out of sight and situates it deep around my balls, my crotch tingles just a little. When she is satisfied that the cloth has been adequately wedged into place beneath my underwear, Helene spreads its remaining, visible breadth across my lap.
Now she deftly coaxes my prick, the star of her show, from its dressing-room. She bends to kiss it, then gently guides it onto the napkin. I shift position so that my erection rests centrally upon the shelf of my napkined thighs. I am offering it to her on a silver platter, as it were.
She sends one hand into her own crotch, which is fully displayed for me through the abbreviated tunnel of the short dress. I can see her pink cunt quickly moisten beneath the activity of her delicate digits. With her other hand, she begins to nurture the lust of my pulsating cock, using a feather-light, sensitive touch. I am completely, happily passive.
Helene's cock-hand picks up a bit of vigor to match my now-heavy throbbing, and her cunt-hand answers by picking up speed. I watch her massage my sausage upon the napkin as if I were watching someone shape bread dough. I see my flesh redden with delight. I observe each twitch of my member almost before I feel it.
We come with synchronized precision, my pampered prick blowing wet kisses onto her industrious fingers, as her thighs jam against her other hand and her eyelids press themselves closed.
Originally published June 2007 - "Body Art"