Games We Played: Interlude

It had been a few days since the doll game. Every time I thought about that evening I got hard. I have to say it was probably my most erotic experience ever up to then, and I just could not get it out of my head. Our evenings at home, our dinners, commutes, everything continued however as it had. Our conversations were natural and close, but not sexual in any way. The games were their own little hermetically sealed moments or fragments in time. The only exception to that now were the simple and natural little touches that had been added to our daily routines. When I went into the kitchen in the morning and she was standing at the counter cutting an orange, I would walk up behind her and place my hands on her waist, say good morning, and feel her press her back into me as she said good morning back. When I handed her her backpack I would brush my hand along her wrist. When she sat down next to me on the couch she would lay her hand on my thigh or touch my hair behind my ear while she was making an important point.

Winter was passing and with spring the days were getting longer, some of the mornings were actually warm now. And that also meant that Laura started wearing spring clothes. I even helped her get her spring wear out of the basement and lay it out on the bed. It excited me to think that she was going to start wearing this stuff. But I said nothing. Her confidence was definitely high with me. She knew her effect on me now, and I know she enjoyed it. Hell, I enjoyed the effect I knew I had on her. So the games in their hermetically sealed little moments were separated from our normal day to day and it seemed to work. One evening however, I tested the bounds of the game/non-game line a little bit.

She was actually laying on the floor in front of the TV on this evening and the sun was just setting, so the lights were not yet on. As the sun set the brightness in the room continued to dim, with the glow of the TV increasing. She was wearing a red half top and a fairly loose pair of khaki shorts, no shoes and no socks. I was sitting on the floor with my back against the couch and her feet were laying along the side of my legs to my right. I had my hand on her calf and she was sort of swishing her foot back and forth with her head set on her hands up on her elbows. On this evening my mind was focused on her body, on our games, and basically on my horny little self.

I started to rub her calves, and she did not react at all. No game here, just us two, together. None suggested. I let my hand wonder up to her thigh, and she just said, “Could you rub my feet?” “Sure,” I said. And back down to her feet. So I rubbed her feet for quite awhile and pushed my thumb into the center which I knew she liked. I could see the small of her back, I could see up her loose fitting shorts just a little ways, though less and less as the sun continued to set. After a goodly interval I let my hand wander back onto her calves, back onto her thighs. She said nothing. I have to say I was more nervous than ever before now. There was even a slight tremor in my hand.

I was stroking the inside of her thighs now and she did not move at all. Her legs though were sort of close together and in the absence of any movement on her part, there was certainly no invitation. Uncharted territory. I was thinking about our quarter game, about her masturbating me in her room, about the kiss. And rationalizing to myself that this was nothing compared to those things, ok then. I slid forward a bit and let my hands wander up under the legs of her shorts, and then up over the surface of her butt and then slid my hands as best I could between her legs over her panties. She still did not move or respond at all though, and so I backed off again. Even stopped altogether at one point.

The room by now was dark except for the glow of the TV. Neither of us made any move to turn on a light which we normally did. After about five minutes or so, she started shaking her foot again, and once or twice let it kick me lightly. Ok. What is this? I was running every little thing through my fuddled brain, my heart pounding again, had a nice little erection now going. This would all be worth it for later this evening anyway. What the hell. I scooted forward again and once more slid my hand into the leg of her shorts, but also under her panties, first onto her butt and then pressing my fingers downward and into her puss. She was so wet, and this was the first time that I had felt her wetness! I let my fingers slide upward and then down again, could literally feel her pussy lips swelling and then opening across her middle. I was splitting her open. God was she wet. But again she did not move at all. She kind of shifted her head around a little bit, and I just kept at it. I wasn’t being stopped after all, and I intended to continue unless directed otherwise. That was the plan. And so it continued.

I almost jumped when she said, “hey. . . what you doing back there?” Friendly, noncommital. “Um, nothing, just playing a little.” She shifted a bit, enough that I stopped and took my hand back. She lifted her hips a little and just reached down with her right hand and undid the button on her shorts and then undid the zipper. I could hear it. She also at the same time opened her legs a little bit. The result of this shifting around, while nothing was said, looked like a pretty convincing invitation. I therefore slid my hand back into her shorts, back under her panties, back into that unbelievably wet pussy of hers. I found her clitoris and drew small soft circles, and I could feel her hips moving. I stopped moving my finger and felt her hips continue to draw the circles on her own. I left my finger where it was and let her movements direct the motion now. Wow! I was probably as wet as she was and probably could have cum just from the touching alone. Laura was no longer watching the TV but had her head hanging down between her shoulders but still holding herself up by her elbows. She did say, a couple of times, “It feels good.” And, “oh. . ., you are a bad boy.”

I got somewhat bolder and moved my fingers upward from her clitoris and found her vagina. I took my index finger and just pushed it inside. She was so tight and so wet. I could not believe how good she felt. I heard her gasp as I pressed into her and she gave an involuntary push onto my hand. She let me stroke her and with my thumb I worked her pussy lips and clitoris, and I could really tell how worked up she was getting. Squirming and moaning against my hand. Heaven again. But Apparently, too worked up.

Suddenly, she pulled forward with her elbows and literally was just crawling away from me, saying “Oh god. . . that’s all, now, oh, ok.” I was sitting there with my sticky fingers and obvious hard on. I was somewhat confused, I knew she was almost ready to come. She then started to pull herself together, smoothing back her hair, zipping up her shorts, buttoning back up. Then, she sat back up while I had moved back against the couch, and she scooted back next to me, her breathing was winded, “wheewh,” she said and her hips were still wriggling around, she fluttered her eyes at me, smiled a wry little smile (that I loved). Maybe she HAD come? I wasn’t sure.

We sat there another little minute when she took my hand in both hers and said, “See ya, I got something I got to take care of,” and put my hand on her abdomen just above her crotch. “Anything I can help you with?” I responded. “Uh, No, I think you’ve done enough,” and then she wrapped her hand around my penis through my pants, gave a squeeze, got up and left. Oh god, why did she have to go and do that?