He Said She Was Trouble

The following is a work of erotic fiction and is in no way meant to represent real people or events. My short stories are generally written on behalf of other individuals and do not necessarily reflect my own interests, fetishes, or personal history.

Contents: F/m. Tease and denial, anonymous sex, voyeurism, flirting, frottage, compliance, striptease, masturbation (F), Girl on top, objectification, selfish pleasure, human sex toy, begging, vaginal sex, orgasm denial (m),

Let's begin!

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Her name was Jennifer I think. Or maybe Jessica. I'm not really sure. The number she gave me just connected to a message saying it was out of service. But I do remember how she looked. That tight red dress that clung to all her curves, sitting high on her thighs and looking like it had been painted on, Those stockings and heels, black like her long hair. Gorgeous.

I met her at this party. A friend of a friend's, some guy I'd met in college. I guess that's why I'd never seen her before. I guess I was pretty obvious in my admiration - though I hadn't meant to stare or anything - because my friend told me to watch out for her, that she was trouble.

Of course I didn't listen.

I kept noticing her around as the night went on. Like she wanted me to notice her. The way she'd find places in my line of sight to dance to the music blaring over the stereo. How she'd slide her hand over her body in a way that seemed like it was somehow meant only for me. I thought it was all in my head though, because of course I did.

Until she dropped an empty cup, that is. The very fact that it was empty said volumes. It seemed so planned. And when she bent over to pick it up she didn't crouch, bending at the knees, she bent down at the waist, her dress riding up, her perfect ass facing exactly in my direction, the fabric sliding up over it like a showman's curtain. She wasn't wearing any underwear. Hell, her stockings didn't even go all the way up, they stopped just above her dress line. I felt my stomach hit my throat and everything between my navel and knees started to throb. I got such a brief glimpse of this perfect, shaved pussy before she stood up again. I almost choked on my drink.

And that's when she walked over. I was too taken aback, I didn't know how to respond. "They seem to be out of those in the cooler," she said, her voice smooth like honey, like some sultry lounge singer. The kind of voice you expected when you called certain 800 numbers.

"Pardon?" I said, surely looking like a total idiot.

"That beer. It doesn't look like you've had much of yours. Can I finish it?" Without waiting for a reply she reached out and plucked it from my hand. I was still in too much shock to attempt to stop her. "Thanks. Man, there is like, no seating in here, right?" She shook her head, moving the hair out of her face, which also caused her breasts to bounce pleasantly at about my eye level.

"Do you, uh, want mine?" I asked, dumbly.

"Sure," she said with a coy smile and promptly sat down on my lap. I felt a heat creeping up into my face. I didn't know what to do. Should I pretend I hadn't noticed her lack of panties when she'd so obvious pointed it out to me? Was I suppose to make a move?

She started wriggling, getting into a more comfortable position, which also had the effect of causing her dress to ride up higher. And my cock to get much, much harder. Even despite my best efforts to keep it down. I mean, after a certain point the battle was lost. There was no way she didn't feel it now, she was basically grinding against it. Even through my boxers and my jeans I could feel her weight sliding against it, pushing and moving. I wished more than anything that they weren't there, that I could feel the soft skin of that amazing pussy sliding over my hard cock.

Finally she seemed to find a comfortable way to sit. I couldn't see it from the front, but with the way her legs were I couldn't help but wonder if everyone else in the room had a nice shot of what was under that dress as well. She started drinking my beer, and then sort of swaying to the music again, giggling. "You've been such a good boy," she said, out of nowhere. "I don't like it when men get ahead of themselves and get all grabby. I prefer to set the pace."

"Oh, yeah, no problem."

"I would think maybe you weren't attracted to me but I can see that's not really the case, is it?" She moved her hips then, grinding herself against my crotch again. She laughed, a rich high sound. I didn't know how to respond, I think I may have stammered something in response. Or maybe I just thought I did. In any case, the next thing she asked was, "So do you want to fuck me?"

I do remember that here I managed to somewhat eagerly answer yes.

She slowly pulled off my lap and grabbed my hand, pulling me up. I awkwardly followed, trying to hide the bulge in my pants. She led me to a room upstairs, and even further in, to the walk in closet in the back. She turned to face me then, leaning against a vanity in the back, like a counter used for applying makeup. It was sort of surreal, being there with the clothes hanging up, her giving me those eyes like she was going to devour me.

"So," she said, "I've shown you mine so now it's time to show me yours."

I swallowed, my tongue heavy in my mouth. In a bit or irony, now that I wanted to be impressive my nerves were fighting against me, and I'd lost a little bit of my rock hardness.

"Oh I think we can do better than that," she giggled. She reached up and every so slowly started pulling down the front of her dress. She was wearing a black lace bra, the kind that doesn't really cover anything, her nipples clearly visible through the mesh fabric. She slowly pulled down the thin straps of her dress, one by one, unbearably slowly, until, finally, the red dress fell around her ankles. She delicately stepped out of it, doing a slow turn. Other than the black bra and heels, she was now only wearing those slick sheer stockings and a garter belt with clips to hold them up, vintage style.

My failing erection was reinstated with immediate gusto. I wanted to start stroking it, but I didn't want to seem awkward or weird, so I just stood there gawking, which was probably as equally awkward and weird. She just laughed though. "That's a good boy. Now lay on the floor."

The floor? That was weird. But sure, whatever. Ok. I could do that. So I shucked the rest of my clothes and laid on the floor. Anything to be able to fuck that beautiful goddess. She knelt down next to me, looking over me, as if evaluating her prize. I felt like I was being put on stage, like for a meat market. Slowly she started running her hands over me, moving over my sides, my chest, even my face, until her body was sort of spreading over mine with increasing points of contact. I was in ecstasy. Before I knew it she was leaving trails of smudged lipstick over me as she licked at my naked body. Every time I tried to touch her back, however, or return the favor, she would either completely freeze until I stopped, a disapproving look on her face, or she would pull my hands away like she was tending to a reaching toddler. I yearned to wrap my hands around those perfect tits, to pluck them from their mesh holsters, but alas, it was not to be. They hovered above me like the forbidden fruit.

Occasionally some part of her would graze my cock and I would feel that sudden surge, and I would feel that electricity all throughout my body, that sudden rush. I wanted nothing more than for her to just grab it, or suck it, or literally anything at that point. Just something more than those brief, light touches. I felt like, if this continued, that I would go completely mad.

Then, in a fluid motion, she pulled herself upright into a kneeling position, her legs on either side of mine, my dick out in front of her bare pussy. I wanted so bad to just grab her, to thrust myself inside her, but I remembered her words and in all honesty I was too much of a coward anyway. She playfully ran her fingers up my shaft - still a light touch but more than anything I'd had up until then. I could feel myself twitching against he fingers. "Such a cute cock," she said, with a giggle. "So you want to fuck me with this, huh?" I nodded, breathing out in heavy breaths as her fingers danced over my cock and balls.

"Is that so?" She moved her body forward slowly, pushing my cock flat to my stomach, sliding herself over it, grinding against it. I could feel the slick skin, the wetness coating my head and shaft with each pass she made over it, decreasing the friction until she could slide over my length effortlessly. But she made no motion to actually put it inside her, to let me penetrate her. "I bet you really would like to fuck me. I can see how hard you are." She continued to grind, her hips bucking against me, grinding me against her clit. She started to moan softly. "You should ask very nicely. Maybe I'll let you."

"Please," I responded immediately, the words escaping my lips faster than any I'd ever said before.

"Please what?" she asked, her voice pretty much at a moan as she pleasured herself against me.

"Please fuck me. Please."

"Oh alright. But only because you asked so nicely." She grinned and increased the distance between us, sitting her hole just above my now dripping cock. Slowly, slowly, so very slowly she lowered herself down onto me, inch by inch. I could feel every single fraction of her tight hole, wrapping around me. God I felt I would die. Once she'd inserted it completely she was flush against my hips. She started grinding her hips again, pushing herself against in smooth circles, but making no efforts to actually ride it or move in any significant way. Instead she took her fingers and started rubbing her clit, arching her back. Then she did finally start to move, but I could tell she was completely unconcerned with my pleasure. She was essentially using me like some sort of human sex toy, moving my cock around inside her to accentuate her own masturbation.

Still, even though she seemed totally in her own world I could feel my orgasm building. She hadn't used a condom, so I was on some level concerned with shooting my load inside her, but then, she had made it very clear who was in charge here, and she did have all of her weight on top of me, after all.

In the meantime she was obviously building up to her own orgasm, her moans increasing in volume until with one loud shuddering gasp her whole body rocked, her muscles trembling, her pussy tightening in convulsions around my cock. I almost came then, as close I was, but I wasn't quite there yet - honestly I'd been sort of taken by surprise.

And then she stopped. I was ready to grab her by the hips, to thrust into her, but she promptly pulled herself up off of me, leaving me still harder than I've ever been in my entire life.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked, frankly kind of desperate at that point.

"I said you could fuck me," she said, slipping into her dress before I could even fumble for my pants, let alone stop her from leaving, "I never said you could cum."