Don’t Make Me Wait

3 min read

photo: The Life Erotic

Following his instructions, she lay down on her stomach and scooted forward ever so slightly. Reaching her hands back, she tugged her skirt higher to fully expose her calves and the backs of her knees. The cool air chilled her, but her cheeks flushed warmly at the gaze of his eyes on her flesh.

“That’s great,” he said softly, almost absentmindedly. He perched on his stool — at her feet — and placed a smooth hand on each of her ankles, moving her legs to where he needed them to be. “You know, I think I’ve seen your face before.”

“Oh?” Slick, she thought, smiling to herself, her face angled away from him. He placed a plastic razor against her exposed skin and began to shave it in quick, light strokes. She tingled all over.

“Yep, you look familiar,” he drawled, rubbing her leg. She enjoyed his flirtation — and the gentle treatment that always preceded the pain. “Pull your skirt up a bit more?”

Again, she reached back to tug, pulling the hem up far past the backs of her knees. His finger found the side of her right leg, the one he was about to work on, and traced the base of the existing ink he found there. “This one’s nice, nice work,” he said, poking a bit at her skin. “May I?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, hoping for permission to take a closer look.

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, turning her head to watch him. He lifted the edge of her skirt up to reveal the whole image.

“Very cute. Very sexy.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her the classic over-the-glasses look, fingers pinching the hem of her skirt.“May I?” His voice was softer now.

She stared into the crisp blue of his eyes, her suspicion about the precise reason he set up her appointment for after hours — when they would be the only two people in the shop — confirmed. “You may,” she replied with a nearly imperceptible tilting upward of her pelvis; her heart beat a bit faster as anticipation stirred butterflies in her stomach. A chill raced over her skin.

Now, he stood, so as to be able to reach. He placed his hands on either side of her knees and slowly pushed her skirt higher up her thighs. He was careful, which pleased her; she wiggled back and forth so that he could get it all the way up, propping herself up on her elbows and shamelessly biting her lower lip. This was going to be fun.

Not wasting any time at all, he grabbed hold of her ass and started to squeeze, rubbing and massaging the squishy parts and spreading her further open with each knead. With a surprising deftness, he then climbed onto the table and straddled her legs. She flushed and angled her pelvis up even higher, letting a moan slip past her lips — she wanted to let him know that this was exactly how she wanted it.

“Good girl,” he cooed, reaching out to touch the skin at the small of her back. Slowly, he caressed her, moving his hands lower until he held her ass firmly in his grasp, working her cheeks apart apart with his thumbs so that her panties bunched up between them. With a tug, he yanked her panties down so that her flesh was fully exposed. Another cold chill raced over her skin as she felt his eyes take in the sight; he pulled her apart again, sucking in a sharp breath and moaning with pleasure at the sight of her. Though she was already nearly dripping, he let a dribble of saliva trickle from his tongue to fall with perfect aim onto the peeping pink flesh between her thighs and ass cheeks.

“Please,” she nearly begged. “Don’t make me wait.”

As if reading her mind, he started to work just one finger over her asshole in luxurious circles, pressing just enough in all the right places that she felt herself start to open up almost at once. It was just seconds before he began to work his finger inside, and she was so ready for it that he made it all the way up to the knuckle on the first try. She bucked against him, moaning in delight as she felt herself expand from within to savor the forbidden pleasure. She pressed harder and showed that she wanted more, so he maneuvered his hand to get a finger inside both of her holes; with slow, hard thrusts, they began to rock with the same rhythm, the table that held both their weights creaking ever so slightly slightly beneath them, now seeming flimsy. In this fashion they continued, exchanging deep moans of pleasure and near-breathlessness for a number of minutes that she couldn’t even begin to calculate.

When she came, she came hard against him, and she could feel the liquids spurting from deep within her, showering, she imagined, over his fingers, his hand, his wrist. He grunted ferally at her moment of climax, and she at the sound of his zipper — even as she came, she felt him pull out his fingers and enter her ass with a smooth, confident fluidity that belied the urgency she sensed in him. After a few delicious minutes, it was nearly over, and she felt she’d fall face-forward off the table if he pounded her any harder. In that final moment, her insides quivered and ached for his impending release, that sweet and triumphant moment that she relished no matter how new her lover was to her or how familiar. He steadied himself inside of her as he came, a low hum rumbling from his throat as he released. After half a minute, he collapsed against her, breath hot and sweet at her ear.

She gave his cock — still buried inside her — a gentle squeeze and hummed in satisfaction. A few moments of still silence passed before she finally spoke.

“That was unexpected,” she purred, reaching a hand around to run her fingers through his hair. She craned her neck around to lock her eyes on his, and he stretched down to plant a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Give me five minutes, and we’ll go again,” he replied, flashing a devilish smile to match the one spreading across her lips. “After that, we’ll do your tattoo.”

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