Written by RenJayKay

24 Nov 2014

She sat on the end of her bed for a long, long time after he had left. Processing. Trying to come to terms with the way she felt. Her mind had wandered off by itself and she just couldn’t get it back right now.

He’d sat in her space for hours, just talking to her, about her, and about himself. A date. So old fashioned and yet ….. and yet he had absolutely captured and enthralled her in those few hours.

She’d watched him cross his legs this way, and then that way, sometimes turning closer to her and at other times away. The jeans he wore stretched so tight across his thighs and she wondered if he had seen her watching him. A thousand times she thought about sitting astride him on the chair, her knees balanced on the arm rests, and just kissing him. She should have just asked him for the kiss, she thought again and sighed.

“I don’t want to fuck you tonight. I want to watch you play, to see your face as you cum” he had said. “Will you touch me while you watch?” she asked but he shook his head. “No, my angel.”

Would he understand the absolute desolation of her disappointment? She didn’t know, couldn’t say it out loud, dare not in case he walked away. Tread so softly. Exploring this, tasting it, tasting him, but not allowed to touch. She wondered for the millionth time if the glimpses he had seen were enough to bring him back. What the hell had he done, said, to make her want him this much? She didn’t know how to reconcile her blatant lust with her simmering want for this man. It wasn’t just a sexual thing. She wanted to end the games with him but didn’t know if she could hold back long enough to make him feel safe with her.

So turned on! He had sat a meter away from her, and she had tried to sit closer still, but without making it obvious. Still, he had no idea just how beautiful he was, how she had sat there, her brain furiously trying to display images of him pushing into her pussy. She dared not look away from him. She couldn’t. His voice, the timber of his voice, had held her captive and she remembered a laugh that had made her nipples ache.

She was used to being the sexual predator. For the first time in her life, she had met someone who played the game as well as she did. And now she was playing for more than just a one-night-stand. As enticing as it had been, she was so glad that she had been unable to accept his first invitation a few weeks ago. She would have passed from his memory by now, just another fleeting notch on the game belt he wore.

And still she just sat, her mind held in stasis by the memory of his kiss. She touched her fingers to her lips and her pulse rate leapt.

Her skin tingled and she slowly undressed, her fingers lingering on her nipples where his mouth had been. Just right. Not so soft as to tickle, and not so hard as to hurt, his tongue and his lips had tasted her nipples and she wanted more. She teased them hard again, pinching, hoping it felt the way his mouth had.

Had he been here, and stayed long enough to watch her, she would have lain on her back for him to see all of her when she came, but she was alone now and didn’t need to be shy of her body. She sat on her knees in the middle of the bed, naked, and reached for the cream she kept next to her bed.

Her clit throbbed where he had played with it, her lips wet, but still she wanted more, and she rubbed the cream all over, taking time to explore the arousal he had awakened in her. Sitting up straight on her knees, she took her playmate, an 8-inch pink latex dildo she had affectionately named Mr Pinky, and placed him on the bed, held upright by her hand.

Slowly lowering her body, she felt Pinky strain against her lips for the briefest of times, and she sighed as he slipped past the barrier, her pussy lowering fully to take his length. She sighed softly, her fingers pinching her nipples again. She reached for the clothes pegs laying beside her bed. Most men wouldn’t understand, but she thought that perhaps HE would. He had seemed to understand, perhaps even to accept, that she needed a lack of oxygen to heighten her orgasm.

She sat a minute, remembering snatches of the night’s conversation. She’d told him things she had never told anyone – like the clothes pegs. No-one had ever seen her use the pegs, no-one knew, and she wondered if she would have let him see this. The deepest of secrets. She worried again if she had made the impression she wanted to make, if he would come back as she had asked him to.

She shifted a little, and Pinky brushed against her g-spot, bringing her thoughts to a standstill. She closed her eyes and remembered what his lips had tasted like, what his mouth had felt like as he’d kissed her. She wished there had been more time. She wanted to explore him, all of him.

She parted her legs a little wider, dropping her body even lower onto Pinky, as her fingers found and spread open her clit, unsheathing her and exposing her to the chill night air. Using her ring and index finger, she spread her lips wider still, her middle finger scraping across her exposed clit and she shuddered. So open, so raw!

Her nipples ached deliciously, the pegs hurting a little, and she began to ride Pinky slowly, her fingers finding that exact spot on her clit that would make her cum. She had never cum sitting up straight or even standing, and she wondered why she had chosen this position tonight.

As the pleasure mounted, she withdrew from Pinky, now dripping wet, her juices covering her thighs and making her pussy glisten. She wondered what he would have thought looking at her lips right now. Would he have leaned forward in the chair and run a finger down her slit? The idea of him sitting in the chair, watching her, maybe breaking his promise not to touch her? She shuddered again and her orgasm leapt closer than it should have been.

She leaned back, her thigh muscles tight and clenched, her pussy thrust forward, and pulled the pegs off her nipples savagely, holding her breath and not allowing the small scream past her lips.

Her orgasm rocketed through her, beginning in her clit and spreading warmly through her pussy. She slammed down hard on Pinky, once, twice, a third time, and crimson exploded behind her eyes as her pussy gave way to the second orgasm she so desperately needed tonight.

Panting, she felt her pussy juices coat her fingers as she slowly withdrew from Pinky. The smell of her lust hung thick and strong in the air and she idly contemplated the idea of playing some more, but she was sated.

He had known exactly what he was doing. A perfectly engineered conclusion to the evening. Had he gone home and played too? Her ego absolutely declared that he had, but deep down, she thought she knew he hadn’t.

Would he come back? She didn’t know the answer to that question, but she wanted him in her space again. He had made love to her mind and she wanted the verbal foreplay back again.

Slowly she dressed and turned out the lights before getting into bed.