We'd met online. You are submissive, I am dominant, together we have been exploring your curiosity about orgasm denial, never meeting in person until last night. Over dinner we both came to realize that what attracted us online is a hundred times more powerful in person. You didn't stay with me last night only because I thought time apart to process our feelings would be wise.
You come into my hotel room the following day with quite a little spring in your step. You're in a navy sundress decorated with tiny white flowers, a deep v-neck showing off full breasts, high-waisted with a skirt that falls well short of your knees and seems to be designed for twirling around.
"You seem in a good mood," I observe.
"I am!" you say. "I feel very playful today. Very feisty."
"Is that so?" I say. You're 29 but sometimes behave as though you were 10 years younger. I take you by your upper arm and pull you close. "I think you need some hands-on care from me, in that case."
You start to speak but I lay a forefinger on your lips. After a moment I run my finger over your mouth, as though I were applying lip gloss. Your eyes close and you melt into me as though on some level at least you know what's coming.
"Good girl," I say, as I lead you over to the bed. "I love your fashion choices today. It's like you read my mind." I open the top of your sundress to expose your breasts. A few touches is all it takes to make your nipples erect. You kick off your sandals and I lift off your dress, seeing that you've come to me with no thong or panties.
"Look at you. Little slut," I say, smiling. Your smooth waxed pussy is already glistening with lust. I carefully set your dress aside and take you close. A few light kisses to your nipples and then I lay your hand on your breast so you can continue touching there. I hold you in place with one arm and start stroking your pussy lightly, very lightly, with just the tips of my fingers. I murmur in your ear, "Don't get your hopes up, you. You are not going to cum today. I know you want to. I know you think you're clever. It's not on the table."
My fingers are wet with the juices from your pussy. I touch you with agonizing slowness. You keep trying to arch your body into my hand for more pressure. I refuse to let it happen. I touch the creases where your legs join your body, and order you to open your legs for me. You obey immediately.