So You Like to Run the Show
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
726
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
726
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
So You Like to Run the Show
“Take off your bra and come sit in my lap.” Pause. “No, not your shirt yet, just the bra.”
I unhook the back, slip my arms out of the straps, and toss the bra on the floor. The chair is big enough that I can fit with my bottom sort of on one side of you, my legs across your lap, and your arm around my shoulders.
You put your hand on my cheek and turn my face towards you. “Kiss me.”
Soft, lips on lips; just learning the feel of your skin at first, then gently biting your bottom lip with mine. I move down to brush my lips against your neck, giving those same little lip-bites, but you pull my chin back up.
“On my mouth. Use your tongue this time.”
I put my lips on yours again; let my tongue dart out and sweep across your lips, pull back; I tease you like that for a moment, then pull your bottom lip into my mouth and suck on it gently.
“Hmmmm. Again. Harder.”
This time there’s nothing gentle. It’s wet, and firm, and hot; dance of tongues pressing and circling. Your left hand tangles in my hair as you pull me closer, and your right hand slides down my neck to cup my breast through my shirt.
“Unbutton this.”
I comply, and you push the sides apart so that it hangs open all the way down the front, still covering my arms.
“Nice. Kiss me again.”
This time as I kiss you, you cup that right hand around my breast, lifting it, massaging it a bit, and my nipple hardens in your palm. Your fingers pull back till you just have the nipple in your fingertips, pinching it gently, then the other one. By now I’m moaning a little into the kiss.
“Stand up for a minute.” When I’m standing, you quickly pull your shirt off.
“Take yours off, too.” I do. You don’t say anything, just beckon me towards you, and as soon as I am close enough, you reach up and pull me down so that this time I am straddling you, a knee on either side, with my bottom on your thighs. Chest to chest, kissing again, both of your hands in my hair this time, my hands on your bare skin, massaging your arms, your shoulders. Finally you withdraw from my mouth and pull my head back, trail down my neck and chest with your lips, capturing my nipple in your mouth, sucking it firmly. After a few minutes you move to the other one. Your hands move down my back to grasp my bottom and crush my hips against yours. I can’t help but push back, and the feeling of that almost-contact makes me squirm.
“You like that.” It’s a statement, not a question, but I nod, anyway. Watching me deliberately, you pop the button on my jeans and pull down the zipper.
“Take these off.” I’m standing in front of you, now in nothing but my black lace thong, and I can see your hard-on outlined against your jeans. Your hand slides up my thigh, across my belly, finally down between my legs to cup me through the fabric of my panties. My body is obviously not playing coy, because the material is soaked through. Still watching me, you let the tip of one finger slip under the lace and delicately part my lips. I gasp audibly.
“Don’t be shy. I’m as hard as you are wet.” Without asking me to do it this time, you peel the thong down and off me. In one smooth motion, you pull me back into your lap, hard against you, so that the only thing between us now is your zipper. Another kiss, hard this time, almost brutal, pressing my crotch down on the hard bulge under your jeans. You break off the kiss long enough to push me back, get a hand between us, and undo your zipper.
“See?” Dry-mouthed, I nod, and start to move closer.
“No; just with your hands.” With one hand I wrap my fingers around the shaft, stroking firmly upwards, and with the other I try to tug your jeans down a bit to give me more room to move. You catch my wrist and shake your head.
“I’m keeping them on.” I give up and put both hands on your cock, one above the other, so that it is entirely enclosed, gently opening and closing my fingers while I massage it slowly. Your hand slides down between us as well, pressing me open and running up one side, down the other, then slipping inside me, just barely, then repeating. This time the kiss is slow and unhurried as we both sink into the sensation of touching, of being touched.
“Andrew, I want…” I stop, blushing despite the fact that we’re obviously past that stage, and hesitate, not sure what it is I want to ask for. Our eyes meet again.
“I want to be in your mouth.” I slide to my knees in between your feet, and use both hands to pull your fly far enough open that I can slip one hand inside. With one hand, I gently cup your sac; with the other I hold your shaft still while I run my tongue around the tip. Once, twice, again, then pausing to lick it all the way up from the base to the tip, then again. I feel your hands twist in my hair again; I press my wet lips firmly against the head and pull it in, slowly, an inch at a time, circling it with my tongue. When I’m holding as much as I can in my mouth, I start to suck; softly at first, then harder, then harder still as you arch up into me and groan. I pull back, teasing, you press it into my mouth again, hands on the back of my head, drawing me down. And again. And again. Long before I’m tired of the dance and the feel and taste of you in my mouth, you push me away.
“Enough. Too much. I’ll come too soon.” I’m still kneeling, looking up at you, with your cock in my hand.
“It’s not too soon. I want you to.”
“Come sit in my lap again.” Now as I straddle you, your cock is hot and hard between my legs, sliding deliciously against my slippery flesh. You put your arms around and rest your forehead on mine, lift me up a bit, and the when the throbbing tip of you is just at my entrance…
“Tell me what you want.”
“Yes. Inside me.” Hands on my hips, pressing up as you pull me down, painfully slow as you open me up. All the way in, not moving, just solidly filling me, not letting me move, either, until I’m looking at you. When our eyes are locked, I start to flex firmly around your cock, squeezing and releasing at the same pace as my heartbeat. You smile; then your hands on my hips urge me up and down; I’m luxuriating in the sensation of being filled, of the push and pull, of the friction, until it’s too much to take silently and I’m murmuring quietly “yes…like that…again.”
“Come for me.” Your hand slides between us and you press two fingers against my clit as I move back and forth on your cock, holding me up with your other arm, until I am making an entirely animal sound. Your lips lock onto mine and you penetrate my mouth with your tongue in the same rhythm as your cock thrusting deep into the center of me, and I feel the climax coming; I tear myself away from your mouth so I can breathe as it starts to take me, making my whole body shudder with delight as it overflows.
“Good girl…that’s it…look at me, now.” Still riding that wave, still cramping with pleasure so intense that it becomes pain, I’m watching your face as you surrender and I feel you coming, too, in wrenching spasms that pulse again and again inside me. Finally it passes and we both sort of collapse, breathing hard.
Resting like that, I start to be aware that I’m naked, and your jeans have chafed my thighs almost raw. But before I can really start to be uncomfortable, you are cupping my chin in your hand, tilting my face up to kiss me sweetly. One last command:
“Come get in my bed.”
I unhook the back, slip my arms out of the straps, and toss the bra on the floor. The chair is big enough that I can fit with my bottom sort of on one side of you, my legs across your lap, and your arm around my shoulders.
You put your hand on my cheek and turn my face towards you. “Kiss me.”
Soft, lips on lips; just learning the feel of your skin at first, then gently biting your bottom lip with mine. I move down to brush my lips against your neck, giving those same little lip-bites, but you pull my chin back up.
“On my mouth. Use your tongue this time.”
I put my lips on yours again; let my tongue dart out and sweep across your lips, pull back; I tease you like that for a moment, then pull your bottom lip into my mouth and suck on it gently.
“Hmmmm. Again. Harder.”
This time there’s nothing gentle. It’s wet, and firm, and hot; dance of tongues pressing and circling. Your left hand tangles in my hair as you pull me closer, and your right hand slides down my neck to cup my breast through my shirt.
“Unbutton this.”
I comply, and you push the sides apart so that it hangs open all the way down the front, still covering my arms.
“Nice. Kiss me again.”
This time as I kiss you, you cup that right hand around my breast, lifting it, massaging it a bit, and my nipple hardens in your palm. Your fingers pull back till you just have the nipple in your fingertips, pinching it gently, then the other one. By now I’m moaning a little into the kiss.
“Stand up for a minute.” When I’m standing, you quickly pull your shirt off.
“Take yours off, too.” I do. You don’t say anything, just beckon me towards you, and as soon as I am close enough, you reach up and pull me down so that this time I am straddling you, a knee on either side, with my bottom on your thighs. Chest to chest, kissing again, both of your hands in my hair this time, my hands on your bare skin, massaging your arms, your shoulders. Finally you withdraw from my mouth and pull my head back, trail down my neck and chest with your lips, capturing my nipple in your mouth, sucking it firmly. After a few minutes you move to the other one. Your hands move down my back to grasp my bottom and crush my hips against yours. I can’t help but push back, and the feeling of that almost-contact makes me squirm.
“You like that.” It’s a statement, not a question, but I nod, anyway. Watching me deliberately, you pop the button on my jeans and pull down the zipper.
“Take these off.” I’m standing in front of you, now in nothing but my black lace thong, and I can see your hard-on outlined against your jeans. Your hand slides up my thigh, across my belly, finally down between my legs to cup me through the fabric of my panties. My body is obviously not playing coy, because the material is soaked through. Still watching me, you let the tip of one finger slip under the lace and delicately part my lips. I gasp audibly.
“Don’t be shy. I’m as hard as you are wet.” Without asking me to do it this time, you peel the thong down and off me. In one smooth motion, you pull me back into your lap, hard against you, so that the only thing between us now is your zipper. Another kiss, hard this time, almost brutal, pressing my crotch down on the hard bulge under your jeans. You break off the kiss long enough to push me back, get a hand between us, and undo your zipper.
“See?” Dry-mouthed, I nod, and start to move closer.
“No; just with your hands.” With one hand I wrap my fingers around the shaft, stroking firmly upwards, and with the other I try to tug your jeans down a bit to give me more room to move. You catch my wrist and shake your head.
“I’m keeping them on.” I give up and put both hands on your cock, one above the other, so that it is entirely enclosed, gently opening and closing my fingers while I massage it slowly. Your hand slides down between us as well, pressing me open and running up one side, down the other, then slipping inside me, just barely, then repeating. This time the kiss is slow and unhurried as we both sink into the sensation of touching, of being touched.
“Andrew, I want…” I stop, blushing despite the fact that we’re obviously past that stage, and hesitate, not sure what it is I want to ask for. Our eyes meet again.
“I want to be in your mouth.” I slide to my knees in between your feet, and use both hands to pull your fly far enough open that I can slip one hand inside. With one hand, I gently cup your sac; with the other I hold your shaft still while I run my tongue around the tip. Once, twice, again, then pausing to lick it all the way up from the base to the tip, then again. I feel your hands twist in my hair again; I press my wet lips firmly against the head and pull it in, slowly, an inch at a time, circling it with my tongue. When I’m holding as much as I can in my mouth, I start to suck; softly at first, then harder, then harder still as you arch up into me and groan. I pull back, teasing, you press it into my mouth again, hands on the back of my head, drawing me down. And again. And again. Long before I’m tired of the dance and the feel and taste of you in my mouth, you push me away.
“Enough. Too much. I’ll come too soon.” I’m still kneeling, looking up at you, with your cock in my hand.
“It’s not too soon. I want you to.”
“Come sit in my lap again.” Now as I straddle you, your cock is hot and hard between my legs, sliding deliciously against my slippery flesh. You put your arms around and rest your forehead on mine, lift me up a bit, and the when the throbbing tip of you is just at my entrance…
“Tell me what you want.”
“Yes. Inside me.” Hands on my hips, pressing up as you pull me down, painfully slow as you open me up. All the way in, not moving, just solidly filling me, not letting me move, either, until I’m looking at you. When our eyes are locked, I start to flex firmly around your cock, squeezing and releasing at the same pace as my heartbeat. You smile; then your hands on my hips urge me up and down; I’m luxuriating in the sensation of being filled, of the push and pull, of the friction, until it’s too much to take silently and I’m murmuring quietly “yes…like that…again.”
“Come for me.” Your hand slides between us and you press two fingers against my clit as I move back and forth on your cock, holding me up with your other arm, until I am making an entirely animal sound. Your lips lock onto mine and you penetrate my mouth with your tongue in the same rhythm as your cock thrusting deep into the center of me, and I feel the climax coming; I tear myself away from your mouth so I can breathe as it starts to take me, making my whole body shudder with delight as it overflows.
“Good girl…that’s it…look at me, now.” Still riding that wave, still cramping with pleasure so intense that it becomes pain, I’m watching your face as you surrender and I feel you coming, too, in wrenching spasms that pulse again and again inside me. Finally it passes and we both sort of collapse, breathing hard.
Resting like that, I start to be aware that I’m naked, and your jeans have chafed my thighs almost raw. But before I can really start to be uncomfortable, you are cupping my chin in your hand, tilting my face up to kiss me sweetly. One last command:
“Come get in my bed.”