The room is bathed in deep orange and red, making the dark purple walls swell with colour and turning the cream bedspread into an alien landscape. Shadows from the four-poster are cast across the floor creating a runway, an entrance to your stage, a guide to your audience - me.

I'm sat in a darkened corner, away from the sensual light of the fading sun. The only illumination coming from the burning red embers of my cigarette and the glint from my glass of bourbon. You can just make out my pulled tie atop my half unbuttoned shirt, but you can't see my face as much as you want to.

"Press play," comes the command from your lips and I obey. A smooth, slow, blue bassline rumbles into existence. Deep and swung. Cymbals crash and drums pound into life as you burst into the room along the shadow-cast catwalk and into the spotlight of the sunset.

The jet black lingerie you're wearing clings to every curve of your body as you move and dance to the music. Eyes closed as you let the rhythm and the fire inside you guide your hands over your skin, your stockinged legs gliding over the darkening floor as the last rays of orange and red sunlight bathe your flesh. The music turns allegro as you spin on the spot, releasing your bra in a flash and throwing it across the room. You cover your breasts with your arm and give me a cheeky smile as you stride closer, turn your back to me and drop into my lap.

You throw your head back to meet my mouth as you grind against my stiff cock, keeping a few millimetres distance between our lips. Your scent fills my head as I run a finger up from your stomach, between your breasts, and give your throat a gentle squeeze. You turn to face me, smiling at my eyes as they gorge on the feast that is your beauty. You arch your back and brush your tits against my beard then push yourself away. Thumbs push past the top of your panties, pulling them every which way but off, teasing me with the promise of that little strip you know drives me wild.

The music slows again as you turn your back to me and lean forward, peeling those French knickers from your perfect arse inch by slow inch, releasing your blushed lips so I can see everything you've kept me waiting for. The panties drop to the floor as you turn back, showing me your nakedness but for the stockings. You approach and kiss me full on the lips tasting bourbon and cigarettes, taking the glass from my hand. You perch on the end of the bed, gaze locked on me as you dip two fingers into the chilled amber drink. My eyes follow the dripping fingers to that little strip of hair as you rub the bourbon on to your already wet pussy, pushing the two digits between your lips. "Another drink?" you ask as you tip the contents of my glass over your stomach and down between your legs. Without a word I leave my chair, walk over and kneel before your electrified body and place my mouth over your hot, sweet, whisky-tasting cunt...