The Velvet Invitation

It started with this black velvet box on my bed — tied with satin, just sitting there like it knew what was coming. No note, no message, just a soft hum in the air like anticipation itself.

I knew it was from him. He’s the type that doesn’t need to say much. Confident. Quiet. Dangerous in the best way.

So I opened it.

Inside was this toy — sleek, curved, beautiful. It felt heavy in my hand, warm already, like it was waiting for me. I was already wet before I even turned it on. Just the thought of him knowing exactly what would drive me wild…

Then I heard the door.

He didn’t say a word. Just walked over, took one look at me in that silk robe — half open, no panties — and smiled like he had plans.

He kissed me slow, with that kind of pressure that says, You’re not going anywhere tonight. Then he knelt down in front of me, parted my legs like I was his to unfold, and kissed my thigh — soft at first, then deeper, closer.

When he picked up the toy and ran it along my lips, I swear my whole body lit up. He knew exactly where to press, how to tease, and when to stop just to make me beg a little.

God, I did beg. Quietly, under my breath, trying not to lose control too fast.

And when he finally slipped it in — slow, pulsing, twisting just enough — his fingers never stopped, and his eyes never left mine. I came hard. Twice. Maybe three times. I lost count. All I remember is his voice in my ear saying, “That’s it. Let go.”

After, he held me. Didn’t rush. Didn’t ask. Just pulled me against his chest, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

I don’t know what turned me on more — the toy, the way he touched me, or how seen I felt the entire time.