Meeting Half-Way

I'm so close to you, all I can see is your cleavage. The edges of your blouse, the delicate floral print. Just like in the ONE close-up pic you sent me before.

I inhale deeply and scent your light sweat as your blood pressure rises with me close to you.

You've set this up -- me on my knees looking only straight ahead, you seated in a chair, having told me we could meet, but that you could not let me see your face. Your only defense against that, though -- is me. If I decide to look up, I can. You can't really stop me, but you hope and pray you can trust me -- because you love the feel of my breath on you. You love to see my face so close to you. You touch my hair lightly, and I breathe faster.

You gasp slightly, a sharp inhale. Then suddenly...I have your wrists in my hands.

After a moment, your fingers relax a little, as you feel me holding you, but not forcing you anywhere.

I guide your hands, dragging your fingertips along the edge of your collar...and you understand.

You let me use your hands to touch you, to drag your fingertips along the edge of your collar and pull at it, scraping your skin, exposing more and more tiny bits and pieces of your breasts to me.

I lick your fingertips, and drag the wetness along your breasts. Repeatedly. Then I curl your fingers in the edges of your collar, pull your hands apart with your clothes, and press my mouth in between your breasts.

Your back arches. Your skin burns, even while I wet it with my tongue and lips.

I free your hands and drag my nails down your wrists as I move my hands quickly to cup your breasts through your clothes.

"Your shirt is BAD," I tell you, and I knead your breasts tightly through your shirts. "Hands on my eyes."

You cover my eyes, not knowing what I intend, but pressing them tightly against my face as I grab your hardening nipples TIGHTLY though your shirt and pull on them as I stand up. "NOT looking at your face," I groan as my face passes yours.

Now my face is far above yours. I reach up from your breasts, and place my hands on yours. You feel my head tip back, so my eyes are up, then I bring our hands down to your head, and bend your face down, pulling your hair up over the top of your head, and partly over the top of your face, bowing you down toward my straining cock, still locked in my pants. "STILL not looking at your face," I say, "but that's only going to be true as long as you keep your face down, anymore."

I release one hand from your hair and caress your face, and your free hands explore my cock through my pants.

Your breath is hot on my dick -- even through my jeans. You're almost ready.

You start opening my pants. "Shirt BAD," I remind you, and drag my hand down your cheek and start pulling your shirt aside. You press your face aginst my covered cock and rub your cheek against me, as you use your hands to stretch you collar over your shoulders and expose more of your breasts to me ... still not all of them, but more.

I use the hand in your hair to keep your face downward, away from mine, so "I" won't break "my" promise to you. I also use my grip in your hair to rub your face against my dick. "Open. You have more free hands than I do."

You peel my pants open, belt open, pants further open, down and out slightly -- and then you see it, the stream of pre-cum drooling out of my cock.

"Use it. Use your mouth, use your tongue. Fill your mouth with it, then spit it on your chest. Spill our juices out of your mouth and on to your chest and get it wet and ready for me."

You put yout lips tight around the tip of my cock head. You suck in hard. Very hard. Hungrily. You've dreamt of this taste. You moan, you whimper slightly. Oh, the taste!

"Say it," I sigh and groan over you. "You know you 'have' to -- you WANT to. Say it, baby."

You 'pop' the tip of my cock out of your mouth, and I hear you gasp and spit a bit, and feel the wetness splash down the side of my cock and down. onto your chest, "Ohhhhhhh fuck," you say, and then throw your head down on my dick again.

"Uuhhh, uhh, yes. That's my fucking girl! No sucking though. Not now," I warn as I wiggle my hips away from you. "Just get it good and wet, and let it run all over your chest."

"Yes, baby. Yes," you say, and resume slurping and drooling all over my dick.

I reach back in with my free hand and feel your mouth working on the tip of my dick. We both know I can't see it, and we both want me to see it SO badly, but the fact that I am "seeing it" with my fingers excites us both so much. You grip my hand briefly, and suck all over my fingers, then smear them in the wetness on your chest. My hand in your hair tightens momentarily, and as your face comes back from my dick slightly, you tingle at the sight of so much wetness on my cock.

I bring my free hand back up, and bend my cock down -- it is a huge strain, "Lick this part," I tell you. "Keep it good and wet," I say as I give you the top side of my shaft to wet.

As you lean back in and lick the top side of my shaft, from tip to base, you finally figure it out -- the head of my cock is now 'pinned' against your chest. My wet, sloppy, spit and pre-cum covered cock, that you are still savoring and soaking, is 'fucking' your cleavage!

"Oh, baby, yeeees," you whisper in between licks. "I love your slick, hard, cock -- you are making me SO wet."

"In more ways than one I hope," you hear me laugh!

I start to flex my hips and fuck your chest with some vigor. "Uhhh, fuck, Teresa. I want this for you SO much."

You smear your hands in our wetness and force more spit out of your mouth so it runs faster down my cock. Your push your cloth covered breasts up in and tight, and pin my cock between your breasts with your sopping fingertips holding it TIGHT against your chest. "You like fucking my skin, baby? Feeling your cock-juice all over my tits and my neck? I love it. I love to feel you all over my skin. I want more, too, baby."

"Uuhhh...yes....this one will be quick though, baby. I've waited too ong for it, and you are teasing me SO bad by not letting me see your face."

"I know, baby, I know, but I can't risk it yet. But I want this for you. Will you do it? Will you cum for me? Cum while you fuck my mouth and chest? Think about how wet it will make me ... ALL over!"

It hasn't been long since we started 'this,' but it has been weeks, months, since we started tormenting each other, and neither of us can take it any longer. I grip your hair and groan, nearly scream, and pound my cock up and down your chest as your feel me ERUPT against your chest.

It comes quickly, and very, very, hotly. It explodes, and sprays around, and smears and spurts all up and down your neck and chest. You almost begin to cry from the relief you feel from my release, from my shout, and from the heat of our pleasure against your skin.

My legs shake. I drop to my knees. You gasp, but you see that I've got my face down, resting on your thigh. Barely functioning, I'm still keeping my promise. Your hands are wet, and sticky, and dripping, your smile is weak, but steady; and as I lie gasping on your lap, you reach out and grab your phone, and smiling, quietly, you take two new pictures to send me later.

One, a close up of your lightly bruised, heavily coated chest, with the fingers of your free hand playing in my cum -- to send me home with for now.

The second one you won't tell me about -- even when you send it. It will be a surprise. Your flushed face ... smiling ... as you lick the cum you've scooped from your chest off your fingers, and wink at me.

That one, you'll send to me later. When I'm home.