He wore a red shirt that day.

I wriggled lace panties over my brown legs. Only to have the inside cotton caress my swollen, pulsing, clit.

I wanted more.

He was a gentleman, waiting in the next room. He wanted me in red. And all I had were these lace panties. I tried to appear like I was struggling to hide my hardened nipples when he entered the room.

"Ready?" he asked in a way to mask any interest for me.
He burned like me. I felt it. His indigo eyes darted about the room. Only scanning over parts of my body.

He handed me the shirt.

He had asked me three months back if he could take my picture. I refused, not ready for what could happen.

Now with one week before I go, I felt it was right, perfect. A way to fulfill my most inner desire before I flee to Brazil.

I was in his arms almost suddenly. "A hug" I thought... to say "thanks for the pics".

It went on forever. We pressed our bodies close. I felt him stiffen beneath his pants. I was thankful for the thin layer of lace separating us.

I had to feel him close. I was washed over by him.

He started with my neck. Giving me small nibbles, bites and sucks.

"Perfect" I thought. "Perfect bites for me." I found myself wrapping my legs around his firm torso. Bringing him closer to me. We moaned, both on the verge of exploding just by one another's touch.

"And THIS is intense" he whispered to me.

Excited by what we could have.

The alarm clock stole me away. I was back in my bed,
With the jigsaw puzzle I know so well.