I come home from work to find you lying on the bed, propped up on some pillows, reading a book. You're wearing jeans and a flannelette shirt, and I can see your chest hair where the first couple of buttons are undone. You look up and smile as I stand in the doorway, putting your book aside and asking how my day was. "It was okay," I answer, dropping my handbag and bending down to unlace my Dr Martens, "but I was distracted all day."
You pat the quilt beside you, inviting me to come join you. "Why were you distracted?"
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you!" As I reach the bed I part your knees with a grin and crawl onto the bed, settling with my back leaning against your tummy.
"Oh, really?" you ask, amused. I draw your arms around me, bringing your hands to rest just below my breasts. I tilt my head back to look at you and you lean down to kiss me.
As your mouth meets mine the desire I've been keeping at bay all day blooms into life, and I reply, smiling, "Mmm-hmm." The kiss deepens and I feel your hands move to my breasts.
I turn my head to watch you caress me. We both gaze down the full length of my body for a moment: you can just see a glimpse of my favourite leopard print bra under my white button-up shirt; my black waist-high pencil skirt hugs my round hips and thighs. You run your hands over me, exploring my curves. I can feel your breath quickening, and goosebumps erupt all over my body. I squirm pleasurably as you kiss my neck and start unbuttoning my blouse.
Your touch becomes more insistent, cupping the swell of both breasts in your hands and brushing your thumbs, outside my bra, over my stiffening nipples. I arch my back, encouraging you. "Is that nice?" you murmur.
"Yes!" I giggle, and move to turn and face you, but you hold me in place, pressing me back into your body. I relax against you again and now I can feel you getting hard - you're enjoying teasing me, drawing out my pleasure.
Your right hand unfastens the rest of my buttons as your left slips inside my bra and pinches one firm, perfectly puckered nipple. I gasp and press my thighs together.
You slip my shirt and my bra straps off my shoulders, and the heat between my legs increases. With both hands inside my bra you continue to rub and flick my nipples. Each thrum feels as though you're plucking a string, making my body hum. I'm getting so wet I can hardly bear it so I lean forward to remove the bra altogether. You allow me to take it off, followed by my shirt, then you draw me back against you, still not letting me loose to have my way with you.
Unable to withstand your teasing, I hitch up my skirt, and spreading my legs I place my right hand against my knickers, which feel hot and damp. I rub my fingers in a few tight circles, enjoying the friction of the cloth against my clitoris. I feel your cock stiffening in your trousers, pressed against the small of my back, and your breath is hot on my neck as you watch me touch myself. Sending my hand inside my knickers to dip a finger into my juices and circle slowly around my clit, I let out a soft moan. I am absolutely sopping wet.
You groan, continuously fondling my breasts, and you're starting to grind against me a little. Knowing how turned on you are drives me even crazier. I start to swirl my hips a little, bucking against my fingers. "Is this what you've been thinking about all day?" you ask, still mauling my breasts with your big hands.
I feel my face reddening, and start rubbing my slit in earnest now, hoping this will serve as my response - switching from round and round to up and down, up and down, up and down, the pleasure intensifying. "Is it?" you press, and I whimper as my pace quickens still. Then you growl in my ear, "You dirty little fucking whore," pinching both nipples hard, "Answer me."
