The sin of the month July

Every month, I publish in my blog in this column something outrageous, something naughty and highly arousing that was whispered to me. Erotic phantasies that often exceed what you would confess to your best friend in strict confidence. Like the following immorality, for example:

Alluring temptation

The clink of crystal glasses and the soft clink of cutlery mingled with the muted jazz that flowed through the room. Rose sat at the end of a long mahogany table in one of the city's most exclusive restaurants. Her dark blue silk suit flattered her figure, her gold earrings caught the light of the candles. She had only been an intern at the company for two months, but she had unexpectedly been invited to dinner with the entire management team.
A kind of test, as she had been told.
She knew she should concentrate on the conversations. Numbers. Strategies. Market development. But her eyes kept wandering to the bar.
There he was! The bartender was a sight to behold: black shirt, rolled-up sleeves, tattoos flashing on his forearm. Dark hair that was a little too long, a charmingly possessive smile and those bright blue eyes. Deep, almost amused, as if they knew a secret that no one else noticed.

Rose took a sip of her white wine. When she looked back at the bar, her eyes met his. He paused, only very briefly, and then lifted his chin almost imperceptibly. An invitation? A challenge? She stood up during one of the breaks between courses. “Fresh air,” she murmured to the person sitting next to her. But instead of going to the terrace, she walked past the bar with almost slow-motion steps, resting completely in her feminine strength.

“Something other than wine, perhaps?” he asked, his voice rough but soft. Her eyes wandered to him. “Surprise me,” she replied. He mixed something with practiced movements. Gin, lemon, something herbal. As he worked, his eyes slid to her. Not intrusive. More like a game. When he handed her the glass, their fingers touched. Whether intentionally or not, she couldn't tell. But her body reacted as if it had been an electric shock.
She leaned closer. “What's the name of the drink?”
"I'll tell you later. When you come back." There was a promise in the air.

A few minutes later, Rose found herself in the back hallway, away from the hustle and bustle. He had followed her. Or had she been waiting hopefully? Their eyes met again, but this time neither of them dodged.
“You should go back,” he said, but his voice was softer, deeper.
“Maybe,” she replied, but took a step closer. Her fingers touched his wrist, where the tattoo was etched into his skin like a mysterious line. He pulled her to him with a determination that left no questions unanswered. There was a tension burning between them that could no longer be ignored. Not here, not now. His lips brushed hers, gently at first, then more demanding. This first kiss between them completely silenced everything that was happening around them. For Rose, time literally stood still at that moment. His demanding passion, which nevertheless felt sensual, had completely taken her over.
A stolen moment behind a golden door. Between the world of glamor and something much more raw. When they broke away from each other again, they both grinned at each other, as if no further words were needed. And indeed they did. When Rose came back to the table, her gaze was clearer, her step lighter. A note flashed out from under her napkin: "Friday, after midnight. Same drink. Same place."

PS: if you encounter an immorality, feel free to confess it in this column! It can also just be a short confession, or maybe you wish to share a sinful sight? I also publish erotic photos or drawings here.

escortavantgarde.com
High Class Escort - Wenigen das Richtige!