Crush

You're wearing a dress shirt and your favorite suit pants, plus the new tie I bought for you. I'm wearing a long, flowing georgette dress and heels, but nothing else. You and I have a nice, quiet evening where we drink a good bottle of wine and talk, listening to jazz and lighting candles. Of course, we kiss each other, first hesitantly, then nervously exploring each other's mouths. Your hands slowly search over my body, pulling me close and desperately wanting to take off that dress. Despite the fact that I've become totally wet just from kissing you, I resist, my hands now slightly shaking with nerves. We know what's going to happen later and I can't help but feel nervous. I'm giving you even more control over me: you could destroy my life with this. You do your best to calm me; it helps, but I'm still trepidatious.

The doorbell rings. I leave the room, going somewhere private to change clothes. I put on soft silk pants (the color you picked for me) and a stretch silk top. I look in the mirror; as I'm letting down my honey-colored hair, I can hear you talking to someone. My nipples harden out of excited jealousy. I feel them through my shirt. I can hear her stupid giggle as you pour her some insipid cocktail. I look in the mirror again, sliding my hand down to feel how wet I am. I start softly touching my clit, to comfort myself at first, then to taste my fingers, wishing I were tasting that subtly sweet saltiness from your cock you just pulled out of me and put in my mouth. She giggles again. I can tell she likes you. You haven't even let her kiss you tonight.

I hear you move into the bedroom and I know it's safe. I walk into the bedroom. She's standing there, blindfolded. Hmm, I think, she's cuter than I thought. I hope he can still concentrate on me. I lie on the bed on one side as you undress her. I try to smile at you, but you're intent on her. You quickly undress down to your boxers. I'm reassured; they're the ones I bought you last week. You're trying to send me a sign that I'm still on your mind. You lay her on the bed.

Your hands fervently touch her. I recognize that touch; it's the same touch I had felt earlier through my dress. I feel a little inadequate, thinking that it must be so much more exciting for you to touch her bare skin. That twinge of jealousy creeps back. You begin kissing her body everywhere, moving down close to her private parts. I look at your body, watching the candlelight cascade down your back. You're visibly hard and I involuntarily begin touching myself. You look at me, moving from licking and kissing her stomach to breathing on her pussy to watch her shudder. Leaning up, you crawl downwards and start with her feet, kissing her, moving again toward her ever-wetter

pussy. She shudders more and opens her mouth to beg you to lick her. I tell her to keep her stupid mouth shut. She's punished by lying there silently as you kiss me hard. Your teeth graze my lips; I can tell you are asking one last time if we can just kick her out and fuck each other the way we both want. Gently, I try to push you back toward her. It pains me to do it; I wonder why I'm doing this to myself.

You press your hand on my thigh, leaning in and breathing my perfume. I can see you lick your lips and it makes me half crazy. Only that thin layer of silk is keeping us apart. Just as I'm thinking off pulling your face into me and letting your tongue lick me through the silk, you regain control. You start to move back to her, reminding her that she needs to stay quiet. Pulling out a dam, you put it on. I'm relieved at least that you won't be able to taste her. I realize I have to stop thinking of you as mine. You get to control what you do to her. I imagine you're licking me, but the difference is that your mouth is covered in my wetness as you eagerly lick, and taste, and softly tease me. Back to reality, I think. I watch as you touch her breasts, her face, her thighs as you lick her. She's moaning softly, being careful to be quiet. I'm not watching quite as intently anymore; I'm touching myself, licking my fingers and growing ever closer to orgasm. Just as I'm about to come, I hear her finish, quietly sighing. I keep going. She is reaching for you, wanting you to hold her. You tell her to lie still and be quiet. You kiss me and tell me how much you want to fuck me. The contractions start, and I come, moaning softly and kissing you.

You take off your boxers, unable to control yourself anymore. Just looking at you, naked for the first time, I feel even more connected to you. Not to mention that, to my bemusement, you were not lying when you said you were large. I lean against the headboard and spread my legs, but it's not the way we want it. You lie on your back and tell her if she wants to fuck you she can do it herself. She starts to eagerly jump onto you. You stop her long enough to get out a condom and put it on yourself. I imagine myself doing it, wanting so badly to touch you. You tell her she can start now. She climbs on. I'm lying next to you, just holding on to you and feeling the rhythm of sex. Thoughts of fucking you race through my head. I know I could blow your mind; I know you could make me lose all control. I imagine the rhythm is actually you on top of me, slowly pulling out and thrusting in, studying my body as I study yours. I close my eyes and listen to you breathe. I let you control her pace; I want to know what you would do to me. I can't watch anymore. I wish I could be fucking you. You reach for me, frenetic, about to come. I tell you to come for me and she thrusts you inside of her. You look at me, coming, wanting it to be inside of me. You push her off, a little disgusted with her. It wasn't what you wanted.

She stumbles, still blindfolded. Clumsily, you reach to help her, maybe feeling a little bad about what we've done to her. I turn over and curl into the sheets. Pulling off the condom, you quickly pull on pajama pants and help her dress, removing the blindfold. Politely you show her to the door. She reaches up to kiss you, but you resist. I hear you tell her you'll see her tomorrow. I cringe a little, knowing that this is just one time for her. She can have you over and over. For me, this is it. You climb back into bed and we lie facing each other, listening to the music and touching each other's face. I should go. It's late. I pull you close and run my fingernails up your spine. As my hips touch yours, I can feel your cock already hardening again. We both know we can't. Reluctantly, I pull away and find my dress. As you kiss me goodbye, I find myself searching your mouth, subconsciously trying to make you want me again. You know better, and you've had enough. This time, you gently push me away. I leave.

You blow out the candles alone. I drive away, lonely, wanting to turn around, fling open the door, and wordlessly take you and fuck you. No matter how many times I touch myself, and fantasize about fucking you, and come, my pussy still aches. Still... the night ends with both of us lonely, but only you alone.