"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."