Remnants of lust

My finger curling, calling him forward, only to be met with a flat palm to halt his advances. Can you imagine my laughter from the look on your face? I can! It’s almost a pity to do what I have planned, but then again, he did call me his favorite cock tease. A girl like me has to live up to the reputation of being the biggest threat to erupting manhood. Eww, that word, so filthy. Manhood? What the hell is that? If we have to call it that name, we’re not old enough to use it, now are we?

Does he know the erotic ballet that plays in my mind right now? Of course, he doesn’t, but he is about to be the only ticket holder to a one-woman show.

I point to the chair in the dark corner of the room. It’s nothing special, but for tonight, it’s his time out chair. Tonight is all about my pleasure, not his!

“I will only say this once, so listen to me close. You are to sit tonight out. It’s all about me this evening. You’re only here for my amusement, not your pleasure,” I said.

A nod of his head, he sits, curiosity has him bolted in place. He knows I will never allow him to touch me. I’ve told him that many times in the past. My sweet virgin pussy is not his for the taking, but tonight, he will see what he will never touch.

His trousers tightening as curiosity took hold of all his common sense, the comfort level inside of him is dropping. He’s not the type of man to ever hear the word no, but then again, he’s never had a woman like me. Tugging at the tie around his neck that suddenly feels like a noose, he pulls it out, leaving the fabric to hang in a ruffled mess. His appearance was so different than when he arrived. Even the sweat beginning to grow on his forehead has me intrigued.

“Rules of the game are that you sit there, you shut up, and you watch. You are not allowed to touch yourself or me. If I ever allow my body to cover with the sins of a man, it won’t be you,” I laughed. God, I am such a bitch tonight, but that’s what happens when a man of his age tells everyone that I’m a waste of time.

He nods, his teeth now raking his bottom lip until the soft pillow is clenched between his pearly whites. He knows this might be the one time that he begs for something. A man like him never begs.

I drop the pink silk robe that covered my slender frame. Underneath the clothing chosen for the occasion. A white bra and panty set, stockings that wrap tight around my thighs, the soft lace holding them in place. Oh, and let’s not forget those heels. There spiked with a thin crust of diamonds around the toe. A girl like me looks expensive, but even his bank account can’t buy the toy that he desires.

My hands are sliding over my body, touching only the places a lover should feel. My manicured nails circling the small wet spot in the center of my white panties, the look on my face that of surprise, but am I? Of course, I’m not. Tonight is a well-planned takedown of a selfish man. I tap my finger on the growing stain, my gaze moving from your tightening pants to the look of lust in his eyes. As we lock gazes, I almost feel bad for him, but he again brought this on himself.

As I blow out a deep breath, my fingers reach the thin band of my panties, pushing the slender digits inside. I gasp as my finger slides across the sweet seal to my pussy lips. I know he imagines what a virgin looks like, but I doubt I should show him, or better yet, maybe I should. I slide my hands down, pushing the fabric with them. A quick toss of the saturated silk into his lap, he is again reminded that he can’t touch. My aim is good. They land on the front of his pants, almost burning a hole through the expensive fabric. I close my legs the moment his lips begin to move in protest.

“If you continue to annoy me, I will put the robe back on and close down this show for the night. Are you certain you want that to happen?” I ask.

His head is shaking from right to left, eyes boring holes into my flesh. He’s pissed, but not enough to stop this charade.

I slowly open my legs; for the first time, a man has a view of my pristine pussy. Soft lips as bald as the day they were born, skin as pink as a newborn’s first blanket, there is something so sensual the fruit of the forbidden. My fingers are strumming up and down my lips, the skin changing colors where I touch. Once a light pink, the flesh now darkening with desires of lust-filled advances. One finger on each side, pulling the seal apart, my clit swollen without ever having the pleasure of touch.

“Fuck me,” he growled, his words low and deep.

“Sh, don’t ruin this for me,” I whisper, my nail circling my clit, the bundle of nerves beginning to swell with arousal. I pull my legs up now, the heels of the stilettos pressing into the crisp white sheet with the threat of ripping it. I don’t care if it’s shredded like that of a beast. My pussy is now in charge of my senses. Spreading my lips farther, the seal of my innocence still in place. One little poke and all gone, but that’s a subject for another day. Tonight is all about self-pleasure. I’ve never masturbated before because all I ever heard was that it was a sin.

“Stop this shit right now,” he demanded as his hands gripped the sides of the chair, rocking back a forth like a disobedient child.

I smirked as my lips pulled to a bow as my head shook from right to left. There was no way I would stop. Not now, at least. I need to cry out for the release that my body has begged for all of my life. Leaning back, looking over as my fingers glide over my clit, touching the button that will give me the happiness I desire. Pants of lust and need fall from my lips, my juices are accumulating between my legs. Holding my hand up to show him, I can tell he’s begging for a taste as a little trickle of drool travels down his chin.

“Please,” he begs.

Again, denial as I bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking each one until there is no taste left. The juices are so sweet that I feel as I have entered Willy Wonka’s confection factory and handed the golden ticket. My breathing quickening, I can’t get my fingers back to my pussy quickly enough. Rubbing, circling, my pussy now a dark shade of pink as I buck my hips against my fingers, careful not to take what I so desperately want. I need to feel a cock inside of me, ripping away my innocence and claiming my bounty as theirs. Leaning back head back and my fingers painting a delicate portrait on my lips, there is a fire building inside that might consume me and drag me to the deepest depths of lust.

His hand twitching, moving back and forth on the wooden chair, is he imagining that his cock is in hand? Yes, he is. He is involuntarily masturbating the chair. “Fucking bitch. Stop this shit right now. I can’t take this any longer,” he cries.

My walls aching, I lift just as my juices spill forth in a river of my sins. Pouring from inside me like a waterfall is the remnants of my first orgasm—the fluid forming a beautiful pool beneath me. I waited for years for this moment. Every year was worth the wait.

Collecting my senses and closing my legs as the opening night’s closing act came to an end.

On my way out of the room, I laughed as his body stiffened, his eyes pleading with me for release. “You can lick the sheets clean, but that’s the only taste you will get of me tonight. Enjoy it because you will never have it again,” I said, leaving.

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