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Author’s note: This story contains italics.
***
I’m on our bed, propped up on my arms and knees, with my feet dangling off each side of the 1,40 mattress. He’s admiring my bum with his hands. Eventually, one hand slips down and sweeps over my labia.
I growl. “Come on, this is so unfair!”
“What’s your problem, babe?”
“You’re being mean! You know exactly how I feel, you know how much I want … some cock …” My voice seems to choke around the word; I shudder. “And you’ve got one, and I know … oh, I know it must be hard … god, I know you want it too …” My breath is coming in pants and gasps, even though I have barely moved in a long while. I have been teased and kissed and manhandled, but I haven’t exactly exerted myself physically.
“But?” he asks, his voice silken, his hand gripping my hipbone.
The words stream out of me in one long exhale. “But you won’t give it to me!”
He hums, letting his hand climb up my spine until it twists into my hair. “You haven’t earned it, baby.”
I moan wordlessly at that, squirming in this awkward position he has put me in. For a while, I just focus on his touch roaming my body. An unattended, lazy sequence of purrs and sighs rises from my throat, and it catches even me by surprise when they turn into lazy words again, low, like I’m just muttering to myself.
“Fucking bastard … you know it’s all I want … ooh, yeah, you know my pussy is throbbing for it … dripping for it … fuck. Fuck, it would be so fucking easy for you … to give me what I need … but no …”
“Throbbing, huh?” His fingers are stroking up and down my inner thigh now; sometimes I feel his short nails scratching the sensitive skin.
“Yeah I’m fucking throbbing, you asshole,” I snap. “That’s what happens when you spend all day fucking riling me up and making me crave your cock in my pussy and then you don’t give it to me!“
“How does it feel, exactly?” he asks. “Please be precise.”
I whimper, then realize that’s a pretty accurate description right there. “That’s how it feels.” After a brief pause, I add: “Hot and plump and … ungh. Needy. It hurts.”
He must be satisfied with my description, because he lets his fingers crawl all the way up and folds his palm over my vulva, applying only the lightest touch to it. I breathe out a sigh.
“Here?” he says, and before I can answer, he has slipped one finger inside my folds.
I whine. “Fuck!” I snap, “Fuck this, fuck you, why do you have to casino şirketleri … fuck! …” My hips push out and tilt backwards, exposing even more of my ass to the darkness, trying to get some gratification out of his ridiculous teasing.
“Is this not what you need?” He moves his finger leisurely, occasionally bending it to brush lightly over my g-spot.
“No! You know exactly what I need, I need more than that, I need a fucking cock deep inside me … filling me up …” I moan when he briefly adds a second finger, then pulls away.
“I love it when you beg for my cock,” he says.
I love begging for it too, is what I want to say, but I bite my tongue and moan instead. “Wouldn’t you rather I was … ngh, choking on it?” I ask, choking instead on the words as I speak them. “Convulsing on it and … dripping on it and … ah, and gagging on it?” I’m making myself moan with the ideas my own words conjure up in my mind; my body is squirming against nothing.
“Hm,” he says, but rather than say anything useful, he shifts over from where he’s lying next to me on the bed and kisses me deeply. By the time he stops again, both of us have forgotten what I said before.
“Stay on your knees, babe,” he says when he feels me relaxing. “I don’t want you rutting against the mattress like some horny animal.” Which, he’s completely right, is exactly what I’ve been wanting to do. I make the effort to push my hips out farther again, the sense of being exposed intensifying once more.
“Well then fuck me!” I demand, aware that the logical line of argument is weak at best, but not caring. ‘Well then fuck me’ seems about the most logical reply to any statement he could make right now.
Once again, he twists his hand in my hair and I arch my back; as I do, my breasts come into contact with the linen sheet below me. Hypersensitive as they currently are, the touch feels good on my nipples, and I start moving my torso in tiny circular motions to drag them softly across the fabric. It takes him a few blissful seconds before he realizes something’s going on.
Then- “What the hell are you doing?” His hands wander again, exploring, seeing by feeling. “Are you — fuck, are you teasing your tits right now?” He sounds incredulous. I am too proud to answer. He sneaks his hand underneath one of my swinging breasts, takes the tip in between his fingers and twists lightly. I know that it is hard to his touch.
“Well you certainly are resourceful,” he comments. “I wonder what else you can do casino firmaları if I just don’t fuck you anymore.”
I know he isn’t serious. It’s a game. He loves sex way too much to be serious. I know this. But it doesn’t stop my stomach metaphorically dropping through the floor at the threat, arousal mingling with dread. I feel a familiar tightness in my chest and know I’m close to sobbing.
“Why?” I whine, even as he fondles my boob. “Why won’t you just give it to me? God, baby, I want it so bad, I need it so bad, please …”
Again, his fingers rub over my entrance. “That’s it, baby,” he says, “Keep telling me how much you need my cock. I’m not going to give it to you … but you make it so fucking hard when you beg me like that.”
Yeah, there it goes; air is leaving my lungs in a series of dry, exhausted sobs. “Fuck you” is all I can manage to say through my teeth while I vividly picture his flushed, swollen penis probably pointing straight at me not half a yard away.
He hums contentedly to himself again. “Oh, you love hearing about how hard my cock is, don’t you,” he says, and he sounds so evil. “Sooo fucking hard, babe. Mmm, and it’s throbbing, too, just like your desperate little cunt … Hard and big and throbbing and all ready to go deep into that soaking wet pussy of yours …”
“Please,“ I pant, “please let me have it, please let me touch it, please, please, please, please … please …” Another sob escapes me; it’s not so much that I’m crying as more that my body is completely wrecked and out of it.
“And how would you feel,” he says, and he is now breathless too, “If I told you that I’m touching it right now?” I groan. “That’s right baby, I’m stroking my cock, right here … right next to you … listen …” I hear the characteristic pop of the lube bottle opening and closing again, and then — oh god — the familiar squishy sounds of a hand firmly moving up and down an erect penis.
And then he moans and I want to see him so desperately that I try to look even despite the darkness; there is absolutely nothing to see, but I can picture it in my mind, the way he looks when he moans like that, the way he looks when he gives those first few strokes to his swollen cock … the way his eyes squeeze shut, the way his head falls back and his mouth opens … Fuck.
I grope in the dark, find his face, and snog the breath out of him. I can actually feel his arm moving like this, arrhythmically, absently, while he kisses me back, moaning into my mouth.
When güvenilir casino I have to catch my breath, I bury my face at his neck and feel the heat there. I start to kiss his neck the way I know he likes, but he pushes me away, as gently as possible.
“We were having a conversation here,” he says. “I believe … you were about to tell me … how you feel right now … ah …“
I roll on my side, stretching out alongside him, my eyes open and hungrily fixed on the darkness where he is. It’s so hard to talk, because I hate talking over these divine sounds that he makes; every breath he draws distracts me from my own words, I am barely listening to myself, but somehow I manage.
“You mean how I feel about you jerking your fucking dick when you’re right — ngh — next to me?” I’m whispering; my voice wouldn’t carry if I spoke up, no doubt. “I fucking hate it. And you know I fucking hate it. I need — my body — needs — that cock — and you know that — and you’ve been making me fucking lust for it — and now you’re taking it away from me?”
His panting is turning into soft grunting now; I can hear it plainly even above my own litany of whispers and the wet sounds of his wanking.
“Even though,” I hear myself whispering and I don’t even know where these words are coming from at this point, they’re just pouring out of me, “I am right here, and I’m … I’ve got … ngh, fuck, I have three — three — fucking — holes … all ready for it … all hot and tight and ready for your cock …”
He’s getting louder, both his breathing and his hand picking up the pace —
“and I need you inside me, I need you inside all of them … oh my god, baby I wanna suck it … mmm …”
I’m squirming again but I don’t care, and neither does he, apparently —
“You’re a cruel man,” I tell him, reverently, “and the worst fucking cock tease I’ve ever seen … Are you at least gonna come on me?”
He grunts again, louder than before, and I know I’m losing him; he’s going to do it, he’s going to cum on my overheated, over-sensitized body, and without my conscious approval my voice starts begging him for it and before I know it he shouts, again and again, and something hot and wet hits my stomach and the side of my hip.
I hold him in the dark while he comes down slowly, stroking his hair and kissing his temple and feeling his pulse thrumming under my lips.
Eventually, he turns on the light, sits up, cleans up the mess. I shiver when he cleans it off me and he cocks his head and looks me in the eyes. “Am I correct in assuming that you don’t want to cum tonight?” I smile, and nod, and gesture for him to come back into my arms, his warm skin pressed to mine so that we can sleep.
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