Left with a Smile

She's in the bedroom getting ready for a girls night out, whilst I sit on the sofa, flicking through crappy TV and contemplating my night alone. I'm not really taking any notice of the screen, the light coming from the bedroom flickers randomly whenever she moves across it and my mind drifts, distracted by thoughts of just how far along in dressing she is.

I'm about to go and find out before I look up to find her already standing in the doorway, a cheeky expression painting her face and a pale blue dress hugging her form perfectly. She's wearing her hair down, those deep red waves breaking over creamy, freckled shoulders. She's beautiful. I could look at her forever.

I swallow. Hard. Running my tongue over lips that suddenly feel much too dry. I'm about to say just how stunning she is, but before I get the chance she's striding towards me with the most delightfully devilish intent. I have no time to think before bare legs are straddling mine, and hands are moving possessively around my neck, pulling me forward for a deep and hungry kiss. She tastes like apples, crisp and sweet. The remote forgotten, I slide my hands up her thighs, holding onto those sumptuous hips as she rocks against me, seeking much needed friction.

Her hands slide upwards to fist in my hair, pulling just enough to hurt deliciously. I relish every sweep of her tongue, every nip of her teeth. Savoring each wonderful moment, thinking she means to kiss me and leave me wanting. She's done it before. Leaving for the night after kissing me breathless. She loves to tease me, building up that exquisite tension, before coming home to fuck out our frustration until we're both sated, sweaty, and exhausted.

As much as I want that, I'm also impatient, wanting her here and now while she's already pressed warm against me. My heartbeat increases, pounding hard beneath my chest, arousal rushing and nestling warm and low in my belly.

She pulls back from the kiss, breathless, eyes blazing. I hold her tighter, wanting more of her, needing more of her. But she takes my hand from her hip with a shake of her head, and I let out a groan of disappointment sinking back against the sofa with a despondent sigh.

But she doesn't leave like I was expecting. Instead she lifts my hand, blue eyes never leaving mine as she takes two fingers between full lips, sucking seductively, her tongue circling over sensitive fingertips. Her every movement sending shock-waves straight to my throbbing clit.

Taking my now slick fingers from her mouth, she guides my hand under her dress with a silent command. I find her already soaked through her underwear, making the attention given to my fingers sublimely superfluous, and causing me wonder just how long she's been thinking about this. I deftly sweep aside the damp fabric, not wanting to tease, smiling when I hear that soft gasp as I slide in and her muscles tighten around me. Her hands slide back into my hair, grounding herself before bearing down on my fingers, driving them deeper, letting me know her urgency. I take my cue and begin to thrust rapidly, the heal of my palm grinding against her clit with each wet stroke.

All I can sense is her, beautifully overwhelming. Her eyes holding mine, the look of rapture on her face, her panting moans filling my ears and leaving hot breathes exhaled against my lips; breasts brushing against mine through thin fabric with every roll of her hips.

It isn't long before her thighs begin to shake, her pussy shuddering and pulsing around my fingers, and I feel the hot rush of fluid as she comes.

She melts against me, boneless and breathless, her fingers once tight, now thread lazily through my hair, her hot breath tickling my neck. My free hand moves around to draw her closer, tracing soothing patterns on her back, as the other brings her down, gently caressing her inner walls that continue to flutter around my fingers.

Withdrawing them slowly, I raise my hand, craving the taste of her dripping from my fingers. But before they reach expectant lips she quickly takes hold of my wrist, apparently recovered from her recent exertion. Her eyes sparkle mischievously as she leans in, the hand still embedded in my hair tightens, pulling my head swiftly to the side, sending shivers rippling through me. "I want you to fuck yourself." She purrs against my ear, her voice rich and thick, I can almost hear the smirk curving her lips as she says it. She leans back then, resting her weight on my lap with an eyebrow raised, waiting to see if I'll obey.

I don't let her wait too long before I'm pushing past the elastic of my shorts, and the expression that sweeps over her face practically screams "Good girl."

I let out a groan as those two fingers, still slick and sticky from her, slide effortlessly inside me. I can feel her in me, our arousal mingling as she watches me through every thrust and gasp. Warm hands begin to creep under my shirt, the fabric bunching as blunt nails rake over my ribs, moving up to knead roughly at breasts in much need of attention. My orgasm builds, breaths coming sharp and shallow as my fingers get faster, hips pushing upwards to drive them deeper, hitting that spot over and over until my every muscle tenses in sweet, sweet relief.

Before my heart has stopped racing and body trembling, she leans in once more to place a quick kiss on my lips and tell me smoothly "I want you wearing nothing but the strap-on when I get home."

She walks out the door leaving me with my hand still buried between my legs and the brightest smile spread wide across my face.

END.