“You are so wet aren’t you, wet and desperate? I can feel it Olivia, how much you want me. I think I might have to make you come at least once tonight, maybe.”
He wasn’t wrong when he said I was desperate, although I think I am at whatever adjective is beyond desperate because desperate feels like a distant memory right now.
“Please,” I beg, making him smile and yet his fingers remain motionless.
“Maybe. We’ll see, after coffee, kissing and some touching, if you really want it.”
I know he is tormenting me, and I also know that I am playing right into his hands, if only, when I continue to plead with him. “I do. I really do want it.” I seem to promise.
“Do you remember how badly you wanted things the other night?” He knows we’re both remembering how I begged, literally, on my knees for his touch. “Your fucking mouth is sublime,” he tells me, referencing the blow job I gave him.
“I want to do that again,” I almost cry and realise that my hands are running through his hair.
“Do you now?” he asks but doesn’t wait for an answer. “Why?” Now he does wait for a response. There is torment in his voice, but it’s good torment, teasing to drive this moment forward.
I don’t bother to think about it I just answer. “I loved the way you felt in my mouth, how you tasted,” I admit coyly, which seems to be the right answer because two of his fingers are now inside my pants, running along my length, spreading the wetness of my arousal.
“Oh baby, you are so ready, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I’m hoping he is going to finger me or stroke my clit. I have never come in public before but right now I could do that without any qualms.
“Tell me what you want?”
I don’t think anybody can hear us right now, the truth is that even if they could it wouldn’t concern me in the slightest.
“I want you to finger me,” I tell him and blush deeper until I can feel the heat radiating from my face, however right now I am incapable of not answering him.
“Like this?” he asks as one finger spears me and then a second.
“Oh God, yes,” I moan.
“What else?” I notice he shifts his body so I’m hidden from anyone else’s view.
“Touch my clit, please,” I implore.
“You really are so fucking sexy when you’re horny and desperate,” he groans as his thumb skims across my clit almost catapulting me into the atmosphere. “I wish I was going to fuck you tonight.”
“You can,” I say and realise that I might cry if he doesn’t.
“We agreed.”
“I know but it was really good wasn’t it, before?” I’m hoping to remind him just how good it was.
“It certainly was.” He smiles before skimming my clit again causing my sex to involuntary squeeze his fingers. “Tell me what you remember about it?”
“Aboutit?” I ask, sounding like I am fourteen.
“Yes,it, me fucking you, here,” he says and sweeps his fingers around my tight channel as he says the wordhere.
“I’m going to come,” I warn him, well I think it’s a warning as I pull his hair between my fingers.
“No, not yet. I told you, maybe later if you really want it and if you come here then there will be no touching nor kissing tonight.” He is definitely confirming the fact that tonight there will be no sex and warning me that coming will be later, not now, but I am unsure that my body is capable of complying with this, especially as his fingers are slowly coaxing my pleasure towards release.
I remember this side to Mason from the other night, the bossy, dominant lover, the way he held me, positioned me, and controlled me. I have never been on my knees virtually begging to give a blow job until him a few nights before and that was after he had made me wait for my first orgasm which finally came courtesy of his tongue. I was delirious when he eventually entered me, slowly, stretching me and I actually thanked him.
“Tell me what you remember?” he repeats and seems to be preparing to move his hand away when I hesitate.
“No, no, let me tell you,” I implore. “I remember it all, everything. Nobody has ever made me feel that way, the way you stretched me and filled me,” I begin and find my thighs trying to close, to find some relief but there’s still a hand between them, fingers inside me.
