An Odd Pair, Part 2

Continued from Part 1.

~~~

“Fuck me?” I ask, knowing that you will say no, and that you will satisfy me and yet still leave me wanting. Your every move seems calculated to make me want you more, to make me unable to forget you when we are apart. I sigh as you grin and shake your head, renewing your assault on my throbbing clit. I reach down and undo the buttons on your trousers, wondering if I can somehow convince you otherwise. With my hands around your hard shaft I am unmade, incoherent with desire, and any thoughts of talk dissolve as you work my cunt with deft fingers, dipping in and out of my hole until I want to scream with the need to feel you inside me.

“Please,” I breathe hoarsely, and your fingers probe deeper, sending my over-worked imagination into paroxysms of lust. It is all I can do not to draw your naked cock inside me but I know that you will withdraw and I could not face feeling you inside me and then not getting to experience your climax. No, I realise, I will have to let you have your wicked way with me and then I will come back, again and again until you relent. Therein lies the draw, and the reason why you have such a profound effect on my desire.

You are biting your tongue and grinning wickedly, and I resist the urge to ask you if you find this funny, but my legs are buckling beneath me as I feel my orgasm beginning to build, a heat which spreads through my stomach and my thighs as if to consume me from the inside out. I shift my ass onto the counter behind me so that I can wrap my legs around you, and you pull me roughly towards you, kissing me again and again until I don't think I can breathe and I’m not sure I need to. I am high, my head light and swimming, my brain unable to think of anything more than the fire trying to break loose in my sex.

I am still holding your cock and you rock forward and backwards so that I can feel your hardness, each ripple and throb pulsing through your length transmitted to my fingers as if magnified a hundred times. You are breathing heavily, and I am pleased that I have at last forced your reaction.

“Please fuck me,” I whisper again, although I do not expect an answer.

“Perhaps,” you say quietly, “if you're a good girl.”

The heat with which you drip the words rolls over my skin and I moan, knowing that I cannot hold off coming much longer. You are massaging quicker and quicker circles over my button, but the fingers inside me are still slow and lazy, taking time to explore and stroke each nerve ending of my sodden cunt until I want to beg you to stop because the pleasure is too much, and I don't know how much more I can take.

“Are you a good girl?” you ask quietly, and that tips me over the edge, and I scream as my whole body jerks violently in ecstasy, wave after to wave of release flooding over and through me, all the way to my fingers and my toes. Sounds escape my lips, sounds of delight and pride and surprise. My hands around your cock fall slack and you pull me closer into you, massaging my back with one hand as the other rests on my throbbing clit. I am almost choking as my heartbeat pounds in my chest. My skin is tingling and my brain has gone numb. Sensory overload, I decide.

When my breathing has almost returned to normal, you wrap your hand around mine, your cock still between my fingers, and gently rub up and down. You are still hard, and I like it. My insatiable lust for you begins to whisper quiet, dirty thoughts to me, even as my body begs for mercy.

“I'd say you've been a very good girl,” you whisper with a sly smile.

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