"I didn't know you were going to be here," he whispers warmly into her ear. She turns to look back up at him over her shoulder, with a look that suggests she knows he's lying.
"Really?" she asks him, pretending to be coy. "You thought I was going to miss the chance to see all of my brother's frat friends drinking Coors Light and commiserating about the rise of feminism? You know me better than that..."
He moves his lips up her ear to the top of her head, kissing her gently as his left hand slowly grazes up her side. His thumb traces the outline of her tit, teasing her with mock restraint. "Uh huh. Feminism...let's talk about that..."
Gently at first, then forcefully, he circles her nipples, coaxing them hard to his touch. She's not wearing a bra, and it quickly becomes obvious that, if nothing else, her body is responding to what's happening.
She pushes his arm away and stares sharply into his eyes. "You're impossible, and you're out of line. Not here. Miles would kill us."
He moves his hand up, placing his fingertips on her collarbone and kisses her there. "You're right. Totally out of line. You seem to have that effect on me, though..." And he gets up to leave, reaching just below her skirt to gently graze the tops of her thighs as he walks away.
+ + + + + + + + +
A few hours go by before she sees him again. She's pouring chips back in bags, sweeping the last crumbs into the trash, stacking the bowls so the space feels cleaner, without actually being so. He comes up from behind and places a hand on each of her hips, holding her firmly in front of him as he leans into her, places his lips on the back of her head.
She's sleepy and wine drunk, and likes the idea of rewarding herself for cleaning by letting him take her from behind over the half clean kitchen counter. But there's just no way she's going to fuck him in the kitchen of her brother's house while there are still party-goers stumbling around, no matter how out of it everyone may be.
Still, she hinges, bending forward slightly and gyrates, slowly, deliberately back into his hands. He presses his thumbs down her hips, caressing her ass cheeks. His right hand slides down her outer thigh and back up between her legs, caressing her thigh under her dress as he works his way up. He leans into her, tugs playfully on the corner of her panties and whispers in her ear, "can I take these off?"
She bends further over the table, spreading her legs subtly wider and shakes her head. "No chance," she says, then adds "not until I tell you you can."
His thumb slides over the lace of her panties, searching for where it feels warm and wet. He stokes her back and forth, applying varying degrees of pressure as he watches her body react to his touch. He doesn't slip a finger into her...yet.
She presses her body back into his, rubbing her ass against his cock. He's not too drunk to get hard, she realizes with a satisfied grin.
Slowly, his free hand traces its way up her stomach. He cups her tit for a moment, before sliding his thumb inside her dress. He twirls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger slowly, teasingly applying more pressure and then less.
She leans her head back into him, opens her mouth and sighs softly. That gives him all the encouragement he needs. He pulls the top of her dress down and brings his mouth down to her tit, alternating sucking on her nipple and teasing it with his tongue. He slips his other hand up underneath the lace of her panties and grazes her wet, warm slit.
He brings his tongue up her neck, stopping to nibble on her chin before moving upwards to her ear. "I've been thinking about taking you like this all night," he whispers forcefully into the back of her head. She's not quite comfortable enough with him yet to dirty talk, so for now she shows her approval by thrusting back on his hand and moaning softly.
She lifts her right hand from the table she's bent against and brings it back to his leg, grazing his thigh as she lifts her hand slowly, lazily searching for his cock. She finds it, stroking up and down firmly with her hand as she brings her ass back towards it. She pulls his fly down and tries, awkwardly from behind, to free his cock from his jeans.
Eager to help, he reaches forward to loosen his belt, unbutton his pants. He shoves his pants and briefs down and his dick pops free. Hard, ready.
She traces her fingers down his shaft, lightly grazing the back of her nails along the lines of his cock. She wraps her thumb and forefinger around the base and holds him still for a moment, enjoying how bad he clearly wants her. She brings her free hand up to her mouth and slowly, sloppily licks it from top to bottom, bringing it down again to the top of his head, rubbing it in circles.
"You can take my panties off now," she whispers, and he grabs the lace and rips them off of her in one hard pull. They're warm and wet, and he presses them firmly between his hand and the base of her throat.
"Feel that?" he tells her. "That's how bad you fucking want me." He bites the top of her neck, just below her ear and groans, muffled on her skin so it sounds more like a growl.
"Mmhmm, that's true," she half-whispers. "But you can't fuck me here."
