kendo
The knock on the door was soft, almost hesitant, but Sandra’s heart raced as she smoothed the silk of her leopard-print robe over her hips. She glanced at herself in the hallway mirror one last time, her lips painted in a deep crimson, her hair tousled just so. The robe clung to her curves, cinched tightly at her waist with a black satin belt. She took a deep breath, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air as she pulled the door open.
Nikola stood there, his dark hair slightly tousled, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He looked… nervous. That surprised her. She’d seen him three times before—coffee, a walk in the park, dinner at a cozy little bistro—but this was different. This time, he was here, at her door, and the tension between them crackled in the air like a live wire.
“Hey,” she said, her voice low and inviting. “Come in.”
He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room before landing back on her. “Nice place,” he murmured, though his gaze lingered on her robe for a moment too long.
“Thanks,” she said, closing the door behind him. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Whiskey?”
“Wine’s good,” he said, nodding as he followed her into the kitchen. She poured them both a glass, her movements deliberate, her robe brushing against her skin with every step. She handed him his glass, their fingers brushing briefly, and she watched as he took a sip, his eyes never leaving hers.
They settled on the couch, the conversation flowing easily at first—work, mutual friends, the new restaurant that had just opened downtown. But then, Sandra’s gaze flicked to his hair, and she tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Your hair’s a little… unkempt,” she said, reaching out to run her fingers through it. “Did something happen?”
He laughed, a low, self-deprecating sound. “Yeah, my stylist closed her salon and took off somewhere. Still looking for a new place. It’s been… interesting.”
Sandra’s smile widened, and she leaned back, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I used to work in a salon, you know. Before we met. I could fix it for you.”
Nikola raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You? A hairstylist?”
She shrugged. “Among other things. So? What do you think? Want me to give it a shot?”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Why not?”
She led him to the chair she’d set up in the middle of the living room, the one she’d prepared without him even noticing. She motioned for him to sit, and he did, his hands resting on his knees as she disappeared into the hallway. When she returned, she was holding a black cloth cape and a pair of leather cuffs. He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly.
“What’s… this?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
She draped the cape over him, her fingers brushing against his shoulders as she fastened it around his neck. “A little fantasy,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “Do you trust me?”
He hesitated, but the look in her eyes made the decision for him. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady. “I trust you.”
She smiled, her fingers trailing down his arms as she guided them behind the chair. The leather cuffs were cool against his skin, and she fastened them with a practiced ease. “Comfortable?” she asked, her voice teasing.
“Not exactly,” he said, but there was a hint of laughter in his tone. “But I’m curious.”
“Good,” she said, stepping back. She disappeared again, returning with a razor and a bowl of warm water. Nikola’s eyes widened when he saw the razor, and he tensed for a moment, but she placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch reassuring.
“Relax,” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. “I’ll take care of you.”
She started slowly, the razor gliding over his scalp with a precision that betrayed her experience. Her movements were gentle, almost reverent, and she paused every so often to rinse the blade in the bowl. Nikola’s breathing was shallow, his body tense at first, but as she continued, he began to relax, his eyes closing as he let himself go.
When she was done, she stepped back, her gaze sweeping over him. The cape hid most of him, but she could see the way his cock strained against his jeans, and a smirk tugged at her lips. She set the razor aside, her fingers trailing up his chest as she leaned in close.
“You’re… tense,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “Let me take care of that, too.”
She undid the belt of her robe, letting it slide off her shoulders and pool at her feet. She was naked beneath it, her body on full display, and Nikola’s breath hitched as he took her in. She straddled him, her skin warm against his, and she reached behind her to free him from his jeans.
His cock sprang free, hard and eager, and she guided it into her, sinking down onto him with a slow, deliberate motion. She leaned forward, her hands resting on his shoulders as she began to move, her hips rolling against his in a rhythm that was both sultry and commanding.
“You’ve… always wanted this, haven’t you?” she whispered, her voice breathless as she rode him. “To be touched like this? Taken like this?”
He groaned, his head falling back as she tightened around him. “Yes,” he managed to gasp, his hands flexing in the cuffs. “God, yes.”
She smirked, her pace quickening as she felt him tense beneath her. “Good,” she said, her voice a low purr. “Because I’ve been thinking about this… every night since we met.”
Her words pushed him over the edge, and he came with a low, guttural moan, his body shuddering beneath her. She followed him soon after, her own climax washing over her in waves as she collapsed against him, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, her body pressed against his, their hearts racing in unison. Then, slowly, she pulled away, her fingers trailing down his chest as she stood. She undid the cuffs, her touch gentle as she freed him, and she helped him to his feet.
“So,” she said, her voice light and teasing as she handed him his jeans. “Still looking for a new stylist?”
He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made her smile. “I think I’ve found one,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “And something tells me… I’ll be coming back for more.”
