"Keep talking," he said as he slipped his fingers through the holes in my fishnet thigh-highs again. "I want to hear about your day."
I shakily let out a breath. He knew full well that every time he touched me it caused me to have trouble thinking, let alone talking. I had this unfortunate habit of fixating on his touch, the warmth of his hand as it moved up and down my body. But I also knew that if I kept talking, he'd keep touching me, so I started babbling about my day.
Minor things, like how my classes had gone, work, chores I still had to do. Nothing important. As I did that, he slowly began inching his hands closer to the apex of my thighs. I kept talking, trying to ignore how close he was to being able to slide his fingers inside of me. He then stroked his thumb along my panties. Not in the center, where he would be able to ease the way I was aching for him, but along the edges of the hem where my panties met my skin.
I rocked my hips, trying to get him to touch me more. He pulled his hand away and then brought it down quickly, spanking me. And again. I yelped and bucked, but the way he had my legs pinned and spread open by his didn't let me move much.
"I'm the one who gets to decide where to touch you," he murmured in my ear as he lazily and so tortuously lightly ran his fingers over my exposed cleavage. He then dragged his stubbled chin down my neck, bit the spot where my neck and shoulder met, and then licked his way back up. "Unless you'd like to beg?"
I scowled. As much as I longed to have his fingers sheathed inside me and his wicked mouth between my legs, I couldn't bring myself to ask, much less beg for it. And he knew that, the bastard.
"Or," he said, "maybe I've been distracting you too much. You have, after all, stopped talking."
"No I haven't," I retorted quickly, not wanting him to stop touching me. "I was letting you talk."
"Is that so?" he asked, beginning to run his hands over me again.
"Yup," I said. I breathed deeply, biting my lower lip to hold back a moan as he ran his fingers up and down my sex. When he got to the top, he rubbed once around my clit. Each time he did so, heat ran through me, coiled in my stomach, and increased the ache between my thighs. "Didn't want to be rude and interrupt you."
"How considerate of you," he said, pushing his fingers against my opening. Had my panties not been in the way, they would have slid into me. The thought of what those talented fingers could do, the way he could flex them and make me moan and get soaking wet around them, made me clench. Don't move. Don't rock against him, or he'll spank you again, and not on your ass like you'd like.
"You're so hot down here," he said, pushing his fingers harder against me, and then away, thrusting them into me as much he could considering the scrap of silk in his way. Next time, I know I'm going to see him, I'm not wearing panties. This fucking sucks.
But I knew it wouldn't matter. If he actually wanted to have his fingers inside of me, he would have by now. He just wanted to tease me. If I wasn't wearing panties, he'd have been torturing me with the possibility of penetration in some other way. Seeming to give up, he moved his fingers back up to my clit, causing me to sigh and spread my legs further apart as he moved in slow circles.
He chuckled. "Is there something you want, cutie?"
"You," I gasped, spreading my legs wider still. "You, please."
"Me what?" he asked, using his other hand to trace small circles around my inner thighs and then up my body. He then pinched and rolled my nipple through my clothes, causing me to moan and arch back into him, giving him better access to my breasts. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."
"Oh, god. Everything," I moaned as he continued to stroke my clit with one hand and toy with my nipples with the other. "Please."
"Everything?" he asked, sliding his fingers under the edge of my panties and stroking around first my outer, than my inner lips. "Like throwing you down on the bed, tearing your clothes off, and fucking you?"
YES. "But I like this shirt."
"Mmm," he said, sliding his hand into the top of my bra and squeezing my nipple hard. At the same time, he slid his finger from my opening up to just below my clit and then down again, neither touching it nor entering me. I wasn't surprised when he drew his hand back and his fingers came away glistening with my wetness. I was surprised when he brought those fingers up to my mouth and had me clean them. "Well, I guess I won't do that, then."
"I could take it off," I offered once he had withdrawn his hand from my mouth.
He took both hands and slid them both into my bra, and started playing with both nipples. "You could. It would make it much easier for me to have access to your body."
"Okay," I said, happy to oblige. I stood up, and looked at him.
Sitting on the couch, his black hair slightly disheveled from when I had run my hands through it earlier, with his gorgeous blue eyes, he was a fantasy come to life. Maintaining eye contact with him, I slowly lifted the hem of my shirt, dragging it up over my stomach and exposing the curling lines of my tattoo. I turned around, and started moving my hips slowly as I slid my skirt's hem up and down my legs, revealing flashes of curling black ink against my porcelain skin.
I looked back over my shoulder at him, noting with some satisfaction the rapt expression on his face as he caught glimpses of my ass. Then, in one smooth motion, I removed my shirt. Still keeping my back to him, I slid the straps of my bra down my shoulders. Then, one button at a time, I slowly unclasped my bra and slid the bra down. I tossed it back at him, but didn't let him get a chance to look at my breasts.
Then I bent over to unzip my boots, causing my skirt to ride up and give him a full view of my ass. The silk thong I was wearing, while effective at preventing him from being able to just slide his fingers inside of me earlier, didn't really work at protecting much else. While bent over, I spread my legs a bit further apart and continued to move my hips back and forth and up and down. Then, I started tracing my hands up my legs, and then slid them between, feeling how wet I was from his torturing me earlier. I moved my thong out of the way, and slid my fingers in and out of myself slowly, moaning each time.
Suddenly, he was behind me and pushing me against the cold wall. Now it was his hands sliding over my body and in between my legs. He tugged my panties out of the way, and then slid his fingers up and down my slit, and then just as he was pushing a finger against my opening, he smacked my ass hard with his other hand.
I jerked and let out something that was between a moan and a yelp. He nudged my legs further apart with his legs, and slid two fingers inside of me. He continued to smack my ass as he slid his fingers in and out of me, curling his fingers when inside of me, and somehow managing to make me even wetter despite the stinging pain from my ass.
"Oh God. Oh god," I moaned, trying to wiggle to make his fingers go deeper inside of me. But the bolts of pleasure that were going through me as he stroked my gspot and the little bursts of pain from him smacking my ass made it hard to stand. I was actually quite glad for the cold of the wall to help offset the heat I was feeling over the rest of my body.
And then he stopped and backed away. I whined loudly, and stuck my butt out, trying to entice him to come back. I had been so close to cumming when he stopped, and he knew it. "Please," I begged.
"Please what?" he asked, teasingly.
I turned and got down on my knees, looking up at him beseechingly. "Please, don't stop."
"You want me to keep going?" he asked as he ran his fingers through my hair, pulling it away from my face.
