Author's note: part 2 of a multi-part story. I appreciate any constructive comments left, and please vote to let me know how I'm doing and if I should continue. I apologize for the delay, but real life has a habit of getting in the way of fantasy.
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I watch for another minute as you continue to work yourself up in front of me, your nipples standing out at attention and the fingers between your legs rapidly becoming slick. Your breathing picks up and I can hear you gasp a little bit each time you touch your clit. You moan and tilt your head back as you begin slightly rocking against your hands. I stare at you wide eyed. You have never masturbated in front of me, let alone after telling me that I can have anything I want. This is so outside the norm, I'm honestly not sure what to do.
I can see that you're not going to do anything else unless I say so. I've never had this power, this control before. Finally it clicks, like a light switch flicking on. Instantly everything runs through my mind. All the "dirty" things I've always wanted to do, but have never had the courage to suggest before. Nothing that anyone would consider "extreme" by any stretch of the word, but something certainly more than my current vanilla sex life.
You had always been conservative in the bedroom. Missionary was the norm, very occasionally cowgirl. Rarely would you blow me, and rarer still would you let me taste your pussy. Never outside the bedroom, always with the lights off. I would get frustrated, being a normal horny young man who thought about sex every 2.15 seconds. But I never pressured you, or complained. Partly due to embarrassment for asking, partly for fear you would think I was a weirdo and leave me.
I always felt I was punching above my weight with you. You are clearly the prettier half of this relationship. I'm 6 feet tall and 170 pounds, some muscle but nothing noteworthy, with dark brown hair and a thick beard. You always say I'm handsome and you love looking at me, but I'm always self conscious. Until you, no one had ever made a pass at me, let alone give me a second look.
"Why" flashes across my mind, but I instantly forget about it. In its place, clarity. I sit back and watch as you sway on your heels, rocking gently against your hand. "You look sexy as hell babe. Don't stop on my account. While I think and you entertain me, please hand me my beer," I say in a firm tone. My normal joking tone is pushed aside momentarily. This is a tone that offers no question. No doubt or hesitation. It's not a suggestion. It is a direction.
"Yes sir," you say breathlessly, turning around toward the coffee table to pick up the bottle. You pause, then bend exaggeratedly over to reach it. Your legs are straight, and you bend slowly at the waist. Your ass is presented to me slowly for inspection. The bodysuit is high cut on your hips, arching up to highlight the muscle of your thighs and accentuate your ass. It pulls tight against your ass as you bend, diving deep into the crevice between your beautiful cheeks. The dark lace material simply highlights your beautiful pale skin, and all the squats you've been doing. I can faintly see a damp patch between your legs, showing how wet your pussy is. You peek over your shoulder, catching me leering at your ass. You stand up equally slowly, before turning and taking the half step toward me, bending at the waist again to hand me the bottle. Your one already exposed breast dangles in my face, swaying tantalizingly as you move. The other is bulging out of the cup of your body suit, dangerously close to being free.
A smirk plays across your face and your dark, smokey eyes have a gleam to them. "Hear you go, Sir," you breath in my ear, placing the bottle in my hand before slowly standing back up, arching your back and thrusting your chest out as you go. Without another word, you continue your music-less dance. Your body twists and turns, balanced neatly on your heels. The only noise heard is your soft moaning as your hands glide over your body, continuing to torture your clit with one hand, the other exposing your other breast. I can't help but stare at your bare breasts as they jiggle with the sensuality that only women with large, natural breasts have.
I take a sip and eye your sexy body for a half another minute or two. I can see you're desperate for me to say something. I take one more sip of my beer before deciding. "On your knees," I say firmly. "You're going to help me get comfortable before we continue. Take off my boots, please." While I added the please on the end, my tone carried the same direction as my previous statement.
You almost dive to your knees in front of me, your shaky hands slowly fumbling for the laces. One after the other my boots are pulled off and placed to the side. You sit back on your and look at me. I stare down, then back at her, my one eyebrow raised. The socks quickly follow, leaving me only in my cargo pants. I take another sip of beer, adjusting the lump that has rapidly formed in my lap. "Hmm, I don't seem to be comfortable yet. Unzip me and fix that."
"Yes sir," you say with a sexy smile on your face, and quickly slide forward to my spread legs before carefully unzipping and unbuttoning my cargo pants. While getting dressed before my shift the previous evening, I had decided to live dangerously and go commando. Normally I have compression shorts on, but I skipped them for whatever reason last night. I can't recall why, and I'm suddenly not interested in remembering. Your soft hand gently pulls my hardness out and you slowly stroke it with a light touch, going from the root to the tip. I'm already leaking, letting your hand slide over the silky soft skin easily. While not "porn star huge," I have certainly never heard any woman call me small, and have never had a dissatisfied customer. I can see a hungry gleam in your eye, your bright red lips slightly parted as you stare at it, and start to lean forward.
"Stop." I say, surprising you and causing you to jerk your hand away as if I've slapped it. "I want to see you cum first, before I let you go further." You moan and quickly sit back on the floor, spreading your legs wide. One hand wrenches the material away from your sodden cunt, the other dives in and moves in a blur over your clit. You throw your head back and close your eyes, a loud moan escaping your lips as you sprint your way to orgasm. That simply will not do.
"Stop," I firmly again, and you look at me with almost feverish, feral eyes. You listen though, and your hands come to an abrupt halt. We stare at each other before I smirk at you before saying, "Slowly, please. If I recall, I believe you said I had all day."
You moan loudly and comply. Your hand in your lap resumes its motions, slowing to a less frantic pace, the other distractedly holding the material away. You start slowly working two fingers into your pussy, moaning as you grind against palm and thumb that are still over your clit. Your moaning increases as you stare at me. I lean forward on the couch, and take another sip of my beer.
"You're a good girl. I know you'll listen to me. Like you said, this is about what I want, understood?" You moan again and nod. That's not good enough. "I'm sorry, I asked you a question."
"Yessss sir," you groan. Your eyes are wild but you're still listening, dangling on that edge of control. Your lips are parted and your breathing is erratic, coming in short gasps. I can see you starting to tremble as your muscles beginning to twitch.