Under Your Control Scene 01

He positioned me on the floor, my body naked and glowing white in the bright candlelight against the dark red of the rug. The thin rug cushioned my body slightly and saved it from the coldness of the black, hard wooden floor.

I looked up and caught him smiling down at me. The charm of his smile could almost make you forget the immorality of the mind that lurked beneath. I knew his hazel eyes would have shifted colour to gleam green with his delight in watching me, vulnerable and needy at his feet.

The flush of my arousal tinted my face as the warmth of desire spread through my body and made my flesh tingle in the cold draughts that circled and played across the room. The cold teased my swollen breasts so heavy and full that they ached to be touched by him. A moan of wanting escaped my lips and his smile deepened.

"Happy, my angel?" He asked. He knew I was; the question was not asked for me to reply, it was but a tool to deepen the connection between us. It increased the intimacy of this moment and prolonged the exquisite torture of waiting that sent tremors dancing through my soul. He knew so many ways to make me want him.

He moved from standing over me and disappeared from my view only to return within seconds and place a chair where previously he had stood. "Open your legs." He murmured. I obeyed and he placed the chair to fit in the gap I had now created. The chair legs rested just beneath my knees and prevented me from closing my legs again, even had I wanted to. I felt rather than saw his smile this time but I knew it was there and the thought that I had pleased him made my pulse race.

The chair moved as he sat astride it and the chair legs pinched into my soft skin tenderly. I sighed with pleasure. He laughed and leaned forward to pick his cigarette packet and lighter from the floor, he had left them there so casually earlier but now I knew he had deliberately placed them there with this scene in mind. I watched as his elegant fingers extracted a cigarette and lit it, his actions so precise that they made the ordinary task a delight to watch. I knew the touch of those fingers so well, the pleasure they could bring and when he wanted, the pain. The cigarette smoke drifted from his lips and trailed down to me in gentle wisps. Our eyes met and locked together in a long gaze of eloquent silence. I felt myself sink into those eyes, drowning beneath the strength of his will.

His eyes travelled down to my parted lips, and lingered there as he watched my tongue moisten my bottom lip. "Stroke your breasts for me." The words floated out with the cigarette smoke and he leaned forward as I rushed to answer his command. "No." He snapped, "Slowly."

I ran my fingertips lightly across my stomach and slowly, gently moving them up until they reached the heavy under curve of my full breasts. I spread my fingers and caressed upwards until I felt my hard, erect nipples graze against the palm of my hand. I groaned and arched my back to better press them against my hands. The intensity of his gaze combined with the slow stroking of my hands made the wetness between my legs gush and seep. I could feel my juices dripping down, my thighs stretched too far apart to prevent the torrent making a glistening river of need that moistened the rug beneath my bottom. My hands moved down to my stomach, tantalising my flesh as I writhed beneath my own caresses. He leaned further forward and flicked his cigarette ash onto the floor. The musky smell of my desire floated between us and the only sound was my panted breaths and the creak of the chair as his weight shifted.

I moved my hands ever closer to the centre of my need, my fingers left trembling flashes of pleasure on my overheated flesh. I squirmed beneath my own touch and my panted moans signalled my torment at having to proceed so slowly.

"Ummm, not too fast, baby." He growled, his voice thick with controlled lust. The glow of the cigarette highlighted the chiselled planes of his face as he continued to watch the progress of my hands trailing down my shaking body.

My fingers had reached the triangle of blonde strands that defined the centre of my aching. The strands felt silky against my questing fingers as they moved ever downwards. The soft fleshy lips of my sex were slightly open, prevented from hiding my desire by the chair's immovable presence. My fingertips dipped into my wetness, and grazed across the hard, rigid nub of my clitoris. I gasped as pleasure stabbed through my being. The pure wave of delight, caused by that lightest of touches, forced a long moan from my parted lips.

I met his eyes again; mine pleading and soft, his dark and unyielding. "Stroke yourself lightly." He groaned. I whimpered as I complied with his request. My fingers slipped in my glistening moisture, tantalising my clitoris into tremulous sensitivity as spasms of delight throbbed in time with my fingers movements. My moans deepened as he watched my fingers slow stroking.

"You are so damn hot." His tone was accusatory, almost as though he wished my need was not so evident or so appealing. "Taste yourself." I moved one hand up to my mouth and continued my rubbing with the other. My sexual juices clung and coated my fingers, heavy and thick with the evidence of my desire. My tongue lapped at the liquid, cleaning droplets off of my fingers and I ravelled in the erotic taste of my desire. He groaned, "Too damn hot. Come for me. I want to see you come."

My fingers moved faster, pressing down harder on my tender clitoris in response to his command. The pleasure coiled and danced through my body as I reached for my orgasm. My whole being paused as the first wave of contractions spread out and I heard myself cry out. The room seemed to darken and spin as my body bucked under the force of the pleasure that pulsed through me. The tremors weakened and I sank back against the floor, letting the gentler quivers of aftershocks pulsate through me.

He sighed, the sound echoing between us and removed the chair. He stood and holding my gaze, began to slowly unbutton his shirt, "And now for the main course." He smiled; from his mouth those words were both a threat and a promise.