A glimpse.

She whispered right into my ear, I want to fuck you so badly and I almost stopped breathing. We lay in bed, watching a pretentious French film and her hands stroked my breasts, gentle but ruthless, tracing tiny circles all over them. Me propped up against her, her legs on either side of me, and her hands moving in those never-ending circles, never stopping, never going anywhere else. I had wanted to touch her, but she’d shoved my hands behind me, twisted them into my own shirt, not tying me up exactly, but making it amply clear that I should lie back and take it. I was trying defiantly now to follow the damn movie, squinting through my glasses to make out the subtitles, attempting to ignore the maddening stimulation, even as my back arched, pushing my breasts into the air, my waist and hips trying to get closer to her hands, my own hands clenching and unclenching still tangled in the soft cotton rope of my shirt. When she finally spoke, I blurted out, you’re driving me crazy and she smirked, that cat-in-the-cream smirk of hers. of course. A pause. Then, casually, her fingers busily tweaking, this movie is four hours long. I would be begging long before then, and she knew it.

We didn’t make it to the end of the movie though. My boss called, and she, sadistic bastard that she is, hauled me upright and held the phone up to my ear. While I tried to make coherent conversation, she stood close behind me, her hands now skimming the waistband of my panties, tracing round and round that sensitive ticklish spot just at the hipbone, breath hot and fast at the place where my shoulder joins my neck. Then she abandoned me, standing there half-naked in the middle of the bedroom, still stuttering excuses to get off the phone, still tingling all over from her touch, glaring at her as she smirked at me from the doorway.

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~ by mortarandpestle on November 11, 2007.

One Response to “A glimpse.”

  1. Oh the pleasurable pain of a tease.

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