A
s I watch, Claire bites her lip again but obeys. Perfectly. Ever so slowly, she draws down the zipper of her black dress. Prolonging the moment while watching my face. I cannot keep the hunger from my eyes and no doubt seeing it, even in the dim light, she shivers. “Can I take it off?” she asks, and I nod.
“Just as slowly,” I say not surprised my voice is deep and husky. My want for her is almost overwhelming. Sitting in this chair, obeying the rules, is not easy for someone like me. I live for action, especially when it comes to sex with a beautiful woman. Pleasing my partner to a state of utter euphoria is essential to me. I like knowing no one has ever made her come harder, for longer. Claire will see, in due time. For now, I force myself to be patient as she slides her hands inside her dress, lingering over her breasts, and then pushes it to the floor where it pools around red stiletto heels I only just now notice because of the shadows in the room. They match the lipstick, and I feel my body twitch. I imagine her in nothing but those heels, under my tongue with her legs in the air.
And they are beautiful legs, long, toned, and as I let my eyes travel back up them, I pause to take in her lingerie. Again, I am pleased. The black and white lace and satin of the sweetheart corset top, cupping her breasts, and the matching panties are sexy to the point of distraction, but tasteful too—the combination I most desire. She stands, almost shyly, letting me look at her. The burning low on my body grows stronger.
“Do you like what you see?” she murmurs.
“Yes. Very much.”
I see she likes knowing I want her, that it emboldens her. She smiles. “What should I do next?” she asks, and I resolve to let her show me.
“What does your body want to do?” I ask. I must know if she desires me as much as I believe. Claire runs a hand through her hair, pulling it to one side. A self-conscious, and incredibly erotic movement, which I doubt she knows she is doing. Her neck is exposed, and I long to run my lips over the hot skin, to feel the pulse of her racing heart. “I want to straddle you,” she admits lifting her chin in a touch of defiance as if I would challenge her decision. “May I?”
I have to work to keep my hips from shifting in anticipation, but I nod. “You may.” Stepping free of her dress, she comes to me. The chair is wide, made for this I realize, and as she hesitantly places one hand on my shoulder before lifting a leg, the contact nearly burns me with its electricity. As I suck in a breath, I watch as her mouth parts, and I know she feels it too. The tightening of my muscles under her touch, sparks the fire within me for what will happen next.
“Who are you?” she whispers without moving any closer.
“Call me Madison,” I reply using all my willpower not to grab her to pull onto me. I want her legs spread over me and her body pressing against my own.
“Madison,” she repeats while slowly moving closer, sliding one leg up and settling across my lap before lifting the other, until she is poised with her panty covered lips over my belt. She tilts her head, her blonde hair sliding to one side in a move so erotic I catch my breath. “I like that,” she continues. Again, the rush of desire to take her hips in my hands makes me tremble. I want to grind her against my body with a passion I have never felt before. Clearly sensing my struggle, she smiles, and I am pleased she appreciates my control, but also her power in the situation. Gently, she begins to rock her hips, brushing against the soft leather of my belt, making the fabric tug against what is starting to ache between my legs. The sensation of her clit bumping me makes her eyes narrow, and I know she is getting more and more turned on by this.
I still don’t move, although I am sure I am dying I want her so bad. Taking advantage, Claire uses her other hand to run through my short hair and leans her face closer to mine. Still, she rocks her hips against me. “Why did you kiss me like that in the parking lot?”
The answer is easy. “Because I want you,” I admit making her lick her lips. “I needed to taste your beautiful mouth.” Now, her eyes close and she tilts her head back a little, moving her hips faster and rubbing harder. “Did you like it?”
She gasps but hesitates. I know she is conflicted because her confession could change everything. “I did,” she says quiet enough I almost don't hear. “I so did.”
“And now?” I ask. “Do you like how you feel now?”
Claire whimpers pressing harder against the tight muscles of my stomach. I feel the heat of her through my shirt and instinctively, I pull the fabric up until she is against my skin. The move is not outside the rules. I did not touch her, but when I feel the dampness of her swollen lips brush my body, I moan. She feels the change too, and panting arousal looks at me again. Our eyes hold. “I want to put my nipple against your lips,” she says between gasps. “Feel your mouth there.”
“I want that.” And I do, desperately, although I know the act will be sweet torture to keep from sucking her hard into my mouth. She responds by taking her hand from my hair and sliding it into the top of her corset to lift one perfect breast free. The tip is tight and erect, so inviting I lick my lips in anticipation. “Touch it,” I murmur knowing I am dangerously close to being outside the lines of the rules of the room, but I need to see her fingers on herself. “Pinch it.” I am rewarded with a shudder of excitement coursing through her body, causing her to grind on me harder. The wetness there soaks through her panties and rubs on my skin.
“Like this?” she moans taking the nipple in her fingers and rolling it between them. I see the sensation is intense for her by the way she closes her eyes tighter and bites her lip again. I watch as she squeezes harder, and the cry in the back of her throat nearly does me in. As unbelievable as it seems to me, I am on the verge of coming.
“Jesus,” is all I can say, my fingernails clawing into the arms of the chair. I am physically shaking I need to fuck her so badly. A second small cry of pleasure, and I feel the warmth of an orgasm starting to build inside me. Somehow, with barely touching me, this woman is going to make me come in minutes, while I cannot move to take her. The reality is insane but happening. “If you keep going, I'm going to come,” I admit, and Claire's response is to lean in toward me to guide her nipple to my hungry mouth. It brushes my lips, and I have never wanted to suck anyone more than at this moment. The sensation as she drags it across my bottom lip makes me unable to breathe. I know then I will do anything to keep her. She owns me.
“Taste me,” Claire begs, and I do not hesitate. Rules or no fucking rules, I want to make her come with my mouth on her nipple. One hard pull and her moans come deep from her throat. Her hand is back in my hair pulling me into her. I bite just enough, and now her hips lose their rhythm and start to buck against me. She is close. I am close. And the reality we will come together enters my mind. It is our chemistry, our connection, which is making this happen. We are meant to be together. I feel it in my soul.
Then the waves crash into me, and it is my turn to cry out. I can't stand it any longer, and I grab her hips to help her ride me to the end. As I suck her and hold her body, she comes. “Oh God, oh my God,” she chants, and I feel her let go. Whatever happened to make her be here tonight is forgotten, and the carnal need to come takes over. My own orgasm matches hers, and while she screams in delight, I repeat her name.
“Claire. My Claire.”