Friday, September 11, 2009

Anticipation

It has been so long, but now her next date is booked. They have played, they has teased, they have touched, kissed deeply, hands have roamed, provoking wetness, hardness, hints of things to come, leaving them panting, softly moaning, but not quite ready to go further. Naughty pictures, chats, no longer enough. she needs it, she wants it and she plans to have it- long and deep, tongues entwining, nipples hard, his mouth on her, tracing wet paths down her body, sucking and biting her nipples, then sliding down to circle and dip and push and toy, each lip sucked, swelling between his lips, gentle bite becoming harder as she responds, tongue slipping inside, curling, up and around, his cheeks trapped by her thighs as she squeezes his head, holding him, forcing him to continue, driving her higher and higher , again and again, leaving her panting, gasping, clawing his back, dragging him back up finally to have him plunge into her, her teeth, latched to his shoulder, marking him, gnawing the tendon, sweet pain, and oh so sweet pleasure.

She knew he was ready, ready to be taken, she willing to offer, her tight ass available for his hands, his tongue, perhaps even more if he performed properly. She was more than ready, her panties soaking as she thought of him, of the feel of him under her hands, riding him, pinching his nipples, each squeeze of his muscles matched by a squeeze on his nipples, pulling them out and twisting, oh she could do so much with him. His tight ass, ready to be pinched, fondled, plundered, as she uses it to pull him closer, to drive him deeper inside her, her clit throbbing, as he strokes in and out. His fingers in play, moving everywhere, on her breasts, her clit, her ass, yes this was going to fun, his lust and hers mingling to produce sheer pleasure, peaking over and over as they used every minute of their time to test, to discover, to revel.

She can smell her self, her scent reaching up to her nostrils, the wet panties clinging, the heat between her thighs begging to be touched. But there are days yet, days to dream, to fantasize,  to tease herself, to lie in bed and stroke her nipples, keeping herself on edge, waiting, anticipating, her want never leaving her, the bed damp in the morning, swollen nipples and lips, as she works, squirming. Soon, soon, it has to happen, but the date must stretch, a leisurely supper, some wine, each looking into each others eyes, each seeing the need, each aroused, each eager, each desperately delaying, drawing out the anticipation. Will he  crack? Will he obey?