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What if he had? Would he compare me to prior women? Would I stand up to his expectations? What if I wasn’t any good at it? But, I did love him. This act would be an ultimate profession of my love to him. Was I ready? I was going to marry him. Should I continue to wait until my wedding night as I had decided? I had never felt so conflicted before this point in my life. I made up my mind to at least look at what was in that bag. What could one little peak hurt. It was beautiful and very tasteful. It was emerald green, my favorite color; it was thigh length and satin. I decided to put it on, what could it hurt to see what I looked like in it, I thought to myself. The spaghetti straps fell gently across my shoulders, the heart shaped top fell gently across my breasts, and the feel of the satin against my skin made me feel beautiful. I looked in the mirror to see what I looked like. I felt as if a different woman was staring back at me. She looked sexy and sensual. From my feet, up my legs, her hands seem to dance on my skin! My ass wanted to wiggle (which Tom says is a give away that I’m aroused) but I resisted. She seemed to sense my resistance and whispered in my ear, with a soft breath, "Don’t resist, let your body go, you maybe surprised." Slowly she massaged my muscles, working her way up my legs. With a gentle pressure, she forced me to part them. My pussy was on flood! I began to want her to touch me there but she seemed in no hurry. Her fingers traced their way almost to my panties and then away. Her touch was driving me insane! My ass lifted. She pulled my panties down. With firm strokes she began to massage my ass, kneading my cheeks. God, I needed relief but still she ignored my pussy. Returning to my legs, now wide apart, her fingers trailed every so lightly up my inner thigh. I held my breadth as that amazing touch, like little butterflies, neared my aching pussy. But again it moved away. I moaned. I wasn’t sure how much more I.
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