I listened to his breathing, slow and steady, right behind me. And as it caressed my neck, the spark between my legs just kept getting warmer and warmer.
I stared at the wall, my eyes wide open.
It was hard to think. The wine and the sheer physical presence of him was overwhelming any thoughts in my head.
I just wanted him, that was all.
And then… I felt it.
A soft pressure against my ass… growing… getting harder…
Bigger…
Thicker…
“I can feel that,” I announced, my voice clear but a little unsteady.
He chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, and pulled his pelvis back so that the pressure was gone.
Damn it, I shouldn’t have said anything…
I lay like that for about 30 seconds, and then I blurted out, “I just said I could feel it, I didn’t say you had to move it.”
He laughed again, and pressed his pelvis against me.
Ohhhhhh God.
I could feel it against me, straining through his jeans and against my ass.
I was so wet.
And then he started to touch me.
Just my arm at first… brushing across my skin… just barely grazing the fine, blonde hairs on my forearm.
His fingertips traced up all the way to my wrist… and then over the back of my hand… and up my fingers… and then began to trail slowly, softly, maddeningly back down.
Some people are ticklish and don’t like being touched that softly.
I’m a little ticklish, too… but I love being touched like that.
I swallowed hard, my mouth watering as he kept stroking me… slowly… moving up to my elbow, then trailing up my arm… touching just under the sleeve of my t-shirt… and then tracing back down.
“You’re touching me,” I whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.
“You said no kissing,” he whispered back. “You didn’t say no touching.”
I began to breathe harder as his fingers caressed the bare skin of my other arm.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Tell him yes, tell him to stop, say you have a –
“…no,” I whispered.
He paused, and then he backed his body away from mine.
What are you doing?! I was thinking, disappointed beyond belief –
But his hand took hold of my shoulder and pulled me onto my back.
He was still lying on his side, though, looking down at me.
I stared up at him, but the green of his eyes was lost in the shadows.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
I swallowed hard again… then closed them.
His fingertips began to touch me again… this time the side of my neck, gentle as a breeze, making me shiver. He slowly caressed me all the way up to my left ear… then ran his fingers so gently across my earlobe, stroking it… then moving down the curve of my jaw… down the front of my neck, to the exposed skin at my collar…
Then the pressure from his hand disappeared. I was wondering what happened when I felt him lift up the edge of my shirt –
“No,” I whispered, and caught his hand.
“Relax,” he said. “I won’t go far.”
My lower lip trembled as I stared at him, at his kind smile… and I took away my hand.
He pulled up my shirt to the base of my bra. Then he began to stroke my stomach… my waist… my hip…
His fingertips disappeared just slightly beneath the edge of my jeans… and then his palm pressed warm and firm against my skin, the pressure increasing the tiniest amount.
I heard someone moaning.
I realized it was me.
That didn’t stop me, though.
Or him.
The pressure from his hand disappeared again and reappeared at my shirt collar… but this time he traced his fingertip down over the cloth, down my sternum… and then slowly drifted over to my right breast, hesitating, waiting to see what I would do.
I knew I should stop him…
…but I didn’t.
I wanted him to keep going too badly to say anything.
His fingertip continued to trace over the fabric of my shirt. Because I was wearing a bra, he had to press the tiniest bit harder, but I could feel the pressure as he circled the curve of my breast, slowly getting closer to my nipple… then finding the little hard bud beneath and stroking it, a tiny bit harder, with a tiny bit more pressure, until it was hard and swollen and aching beneath his touch.
I was moaning louder.
He leaned in and put his lips against my ear, and breathed sooo softly, his lips grazing my skin, caressing me.
I was going wild inside by now, but I couldn’t show it. I just lay there, moaning, as his breath sighed in my ear, and his lips nibbled softly at my earlobe, and his fingers…
Oh God, his fingers.
They began to drift over my jeans, the friction vibrating through the cloth and tickling my skin. I felt his fingertips move between my legs, over the seam of my jeans, a light pressure whispering across my clit.