Unbuttoned my pale red sweater, starting at the neckline, one button at a time. The buttons were small and it was a little difficult to push each one through its own button hole. I had never unbuttoned the sweater myself. He had the hands of an artist - long, slender fingers and a delicate touch. 'Here,' I said after he had reached the final button, 'I'll help you,' and removed my arms from the sweater, and flung it onto the floor next to his bed. My moulded black lacy bra was next. He moved his hands around to caress my back and then skilfully unclasped the 3 hooks in one quick gesture, letting the bra straps slide off my shoulders naturally. I thought I heard him gasp as my bra hit the floor, revealing my breasts to him. He cupped one in his hand and gently kissed the nipple, letting his tongue linger there for a while before moving onto the other one.
'You have lovely breasts, sweetheart' he said with a soft, low and faintly Scottish accent that I adored. There was something about its pitch and tone I found a complete turn-on. The sound just drew me in. He used the word 'sweetheart' liberally and although I can imagine that a few other women might have cringed or even found it slightly patronising, I found it charming. He made me feel girlish, like I still had lots of growing up to do.
He moved his hands down my waist and tried to unfasten a tacky gold belt I was wearing with a heart shaped buckle studded with red, white & blue crystals in the pattern of the American flag. 'I think you're going to have to help me here,' he said and so I did, unclasping the belt to leave him free to take off my jeans. Very soon my jeans were on the floor along with the other clothes. He paused to kiss me before sliding his hands down my red sparkly knickers, a bit of a silly Xmas treat to myself that I thought might amuse him.
'I'm wearing my Xmas pants,' I said.
'Very nice too,' he laughed before removing them for me.
Then I pulled his t-shirt above his head or tried to. Being much taller than me, my arms weren't quite long enough to get the shirt all the way off and there was a slightly awkward moment when the neckline got stuck halfway up his head. His very loose jeans quickly followed, needing no provocation whatsoever to fall off his body. 'I've lost tons of weight,' he said, apologising. 'I hope you like skinny men.'
'I love skinny men,' I replied.
I looked down at his briefs. His hard-on was clearly visible and I went to stroke the outside of the fabric, desperate to touch him but he wouldn't let me.
'Wait,' he said. 'We have plenty of time.' He looked seriously at me. 'I want to make love to you.'
'Make love,' I thought. It must have been over five years since I had heard those two words used together. Most men just wanted to f*** me.
I climbed into bed. 'You're completely naked,' he said, sweetly stating what was blindingly obvious.
'Yes, I am,' I purred back at him. I pulled the covers to one side and he quickly pulled off his pants before climbing in next to me.
'And so are you,' I said.