#theseareattackingeyebrows

Well, with all the talk of Sally Rand and old Hollywood the most recent and vivid fantasy I’ve had is as follows:

A darkened smoky room where the Doctor sits sipping his drink, dressed in a crisp, tailor made black suit.  I walk out on stage, a white lacy teddy, stockings and huge white ostrich feathers.  Music starts up and I start to dance, I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move.  I can’t see him due to the spotlight on the stage but I know he’s there, and it makes me so hot.  Under the feathers I slowly take off my clothes, stockings first, followed by teddy.  My body is flush, my nether lips are dripping with arousal..and he hasn’t even touched me...I haven’t even been able to lay eyes on him yet.  

After the song ends, my feathers have been discarded and I’m bared for him, for his appraisal, his approval.  I hear the glass, now empty being set back down on the table, I hear a chair slide across the floor, and then there he is, standing in front of the stage, his eyes dark, pupils dilated fully, lips wet from the drink he had just finished.  I want to taste that brandy, I want to taste him.  I want him to taste me.  

Slowly he climbs onto the stage, not a single hair on his immaculate head out of place.  He looks like sin and me, with my feathers laying beside me an angel he’s felled.  His body covers mine and he takes me, hard and fast, never uttering a word, only sounds that could be heard throughout the whole room are the sounds of slick skin slapping together and my cries of ecstasy as he pushes me over the edge not once, but twice before he finds completion between my legs.