"Come here," she ordered. I guess it wasn't so much an order as a firm suggestion. Whatever the case, I obeyed as if it was a command and stood before her, head down, eyes cast demurely up. She closed the gap between us with a step and I felt the texture of her denim pressed firmly against my bare leg.
My breath hitched when her hand raised, and I watched it carefully. It came down slowly, as if considering it's options, and ended up tangled in my unbound hair. My head pulled back and my lips were covered. She backed me two, three, four steps until I hit wall and her hands lowered to my ass and lifted until I was on tiptoe and she was pressed firm against me. I felt the bulge of latex she had playfully concealed inside her jeans press against me. Only our clothing separated my already pulsing pussy from being filled by her, though my skirt was hitched high enough, and my panties were wet through already. Only a layer of denim separated her from me and I desperately wanted that layer to disappear.
When I reached for her zipper, she caught my hands and my wrists tight. She meant to tease and I moaned my frustration against her neck. She released one wrist, but kept the other pressed tight against me. I wasn't sure what to do with the free hand, so I kept it obediently at my side while she used her own free hand to lift my skirt. Her fingers expertly found the place where I ached the most and she rubbed me through the fabric of my panties and whispered her intentions in my ear.
"Do you want your orgasm now, honey? You can have it. Explode against my hand." Her movements quickened and I tossed my head. My nipples hardened and I felt them pressing against the lace of my bra. She was right. This was exactly what I wanted, and I pressed my hip against her hand in confirmation.
