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2015-07-07
It was that twilight hour. Two in the morning. The point when our minds seek dark and dirty things as if was candy. With the hot, muggy night that was, the fireworks that dazzled above over the last few hours only left sparkles of excitement on your subconscious. What burned now was your imagination. . . and what I was leading you toward.
We made it home safe after the show. A couple of beer bottles now sat empty, guarding the door to your backyard. We sit, side by side on a patio couch, close to one another. You smell the faint aroma of some body spray - Axe? You aren't sure what kind - and it's teasing you. Your mind is already in the gutter, imagining me on top of you, shirtless, smelling my body as I am plunging into your soaking wet--
My hand finds your abdomen, touching you through your shirt. Your fantasy broken, but replaced with another one. You had been thinking about later tonight since we first met.
The time when I told you how much I loved to give pleasure, using my fingers and lips to tease the most powerful orgasms from you over and over again.
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The way I prefer to spend my time teasing out every tendril of sensitivity in your body. You grabbed my hand earlier in the night and looked at my fingers closely, and in doing so you could feel yourself begin to moisten and heat up just in anticipation. When I wasn't noticing, you'd sneak glances toward my lips, eager to have them surrounding your clit.
You even snuck off to the bathroom once, fingered yourself to the quickest cum you've ever had, biting your lip and hoping you could last until I had had my way with you.
My hand slips under the edge of your shirt. My fingertips paint a stroke of goosebumps on your soft skin, and you sigh as my hand moves up to your breast. You had removed the bra already, before you went outside with me, and there was no defense against my fingers on your nipple. . . .
