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The doorbell rang. Through the glass panes of my front door, I could see him shivering with a brown-bagged bottle of wine tucked underneath his arm. When I let him in, he thrust the bottle at me, leaned forward to give me a quick kiss which was a slightly painful bump of his cheekbone against mine. Hmmmm…he was very nervous.
He was a rather conservative type – blue dress shirt, brown hair cut short, carefully combed and parted on the side. Even his blue jeans looked formal, they were brand new and stiff as if they were ironed. Ironed jeans? Just how uptight is this man? It was apparent he had taken quite a bit of time to get ready for our first meeting. To keep him calm and make him feel more at ease, I kept my movements slow and deliberate. I turned him around, slipped his leather jacket off and hung it on the banister post. Told him to sit down while I open the bottle of wine.
He sat at the table, crossed his arms and looked around everywhere but at me. There was no expression on his face except for the tight lips.
“This man really needs a glass of wine,” I thought, “he’s far too nervous.”
While opening the bottle, I thought about the obvious contrast between the two of us. I was wearing a silk skirt that reached just below my knees, a buttoned silk shirt that was tailored at the waist, pointy leather boots with three inch heels. All black. I kept my make-up simple, just red lipstick and black mascara which heightened the contrast of my dark brown hair and very pale skin. For a brief moment, I felt overdressed but then remembered, based on our conversations online, then he liked a woman to dress that way. Tight black clothes, red lipstick, suggestively domme-ish.
When the cork was released from the bottle, it gave a slight popping sound that made him look at me. Oh good, eye contact, finally. Brought the opened bottle and the wineglasses over to the table and sat down, crossed my legs and rested one elbow on the table. He quickly grabbed the bottle by the neck and poured for both of us, sloshing the wine only slightly. We held up our glasses and without a word, clinked. A bartender told me once, that in medieval England, glasses were intentionally clinked hard enough for the wine to spill over into each other. So that one could trust that the other hadn’t poisoned the wine.
Did he trust me now?
On the table was a black and brown leather backgammon board with ebony and ivory pieces already placed in position, waiting for us to play. Right away, we began playing so that he could learn for he had never played this game before. And certainly had never learned to play it my way. This poor young man, he had no idea what he was in for.
He lost the first round, understandably. He was new and had much to learn still. I smiled and told him that each time he lost, he would have to do something for me. It was the rules.
He wrinkled his forehead a bit, wondering what I was talking about. I ordered him to unzip his jeans and pull out his cock through the opening of his boxers. He stared at me for a few seconds, trying to determine if I was being serious. He was not the type who would appreciate being humiliated. I returned his gaze steadily, raising one eyebrow expectantly. Having made up his mind that indeed I was not joking, he fumbled to unzip and pull out his cock. I was loving this, a fully dressed man sitting at my table with his cock looking so vulnerably exposed. I couldn’t wait to play another game. Judging by the looks of him, neither gaziemir escort could he.
We played another round. He was so self conscious and flustered that he lost again. When I gave him a little grin, his adam’s apple rappelled up and down his throat. I could tell he was thinking, “what the hell did I get myself into?”
“Pull down your pants.”
This time, he didn’t hesitate. While his face was turning as red as the crimson lipstick I wore, he gingerly pulled his cock back through the zipper and within seconds, his jeans that he had carefully ironed were now bunched around his ankles. He looked at me to see if I approved. I deliberately took my time to take in the view of this man. From where I was sitting, he appeared fully dressed for he was sitting right up to the table. I didn’t smile knowing that this would make him more nervous and unsettled.
He looked over to the wine bottle. Giving a slight nod, I permitted him to have another glass. With a slight jerk of my head, I made it plain that he should move back from the table enough so I could see more of him. He pushed back a little, obviously feeling shy yet it was obvious he was also excited.
Another round was played. This time I lost. On purpose, for I had a game plan unbeknownst to him.
His eyes widened at the realization that he had won, unsure of what to expect. I rested my foot, encased on a knee high boot on the edge of the chair between his knees and lightly rested it against his genitals. The black skirt I was wearing naturally slid down my raised thigh and he saw that the sheer black pantyhose I was wearing reached only to the top of my thighs. His mouth fell ajar a little. He tried very hard not to rudely gawk while casting furtive glances to see what I was wearing underneath that skirt. His hands moved forward to touch the leather boot but just before they did, I snapped my fingers and gave a warning shake of my head. His hands fell to his sides. But his cock was beginning to thicken and harden, the veins well on their way to being fully engorged.
My game plan was working.
We played a fourth round. Each time he landed on one of my men and took it out, I pressed my foot a little harder against him and let my leg that was raised lean a little to show more of myself to him. His hands were beginning to shake, he would forget what moves he had just made on the board. It was both amusing and satisfying to witness this man losing his self-control, to see that I was breaking him.
His cock was hard as rock and standing at full attention, I didn’t have to look at it to know that. It was pushing against my boot, as if to say, “look at me, please.” He poured himself another glass and quickly gulped it down without asking first if I would like mine refilled. I frowned and this time pressed my foot so hard against him that his chair slid back a little.
He looked at me in shock. I let my foot gently bat around his cock a little and studied his reaction. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. His hands were tightening into fists, knuckles turning white. I snapped my fingers and commanded him to look at me. He opened his eyes quickly at the tone in my voice and stood up, ramrod straight. While our eyes were locked, I slid my boot under his balls, stroking his scrotum then moved it upwards to slide up and down his cock that was so hard it was angrily red. I could not only hear but see his breathing becoming more rapid, by the way his chest was güzelbahçe escort heaving. He was loving the sensation of the leather on his cock and balls, his enjoyment couldn’t have been any more plain.
Just when he was becoming fully absorbed in what I was doing to him, I told him it was our final round. He looked at me as if he couldn’t believe how I could be so unmerciful, how I could torture him like this by delaying his need for gratification.
“Who cares about backgammon?” he was probably wondering, “just keep doing what you were doing!”
I cared. The game was not finished yet.
“Pick up the dice and roll,” I said coldly.
Reluctantly, he rolled, his jaw muscles inflating in repressed frustration. One of the dice fell on the floor in front of my chair. I removed my foot so he could lean forward to pick up the dice. As he did so, I slid my chair forward a little so that his head would be right between my knees. He slowly raised his head up but I stopped him by tightening my thighs around his head. He froze, not sure what he would be allowed to do at this point. I placed my hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer until he was under the hemline of my skirt and I could feel his breath warming me up. I let him stay like this for a short moment, suspended, reveling in the control I had over him. I knew that he was taking in my scent which was driving him out of his mind.
“Take off my panties.”
He was about to pull them off with his hands.
“With only your teeth.”
He did so by first sliding his tongue underneath the edge of the panties wherever he could reach. Involuntarily I gasped at the way his tongue would ever so slowly and with even deliberation trace along the edges of my panties, so close to my vagina and yet not quite touching. Without being aware, I had let my legs open as wide as they could and inched just a little closer to him. My body was beginning to heat up, the warmth radiating outwards from my clitoris throughout the rest of me as if his tongue was a pebble that was dropped into a pond, me. Gingerly, with his teeth, he gripped the top edge of my panties and tugged. I raised my hips a little to assist him. He pulled with his teeth until my panties, soaked with a creamy wetness, were down around my ankles. He clasped my ankles firmly, brought them tightly together and raised them up so that my view of him was blocked except for his hands that were tightly holding my ankles.
“Your turn now, is it?” I kept this thought to myself.
After each breath he blew on me, I could feel an icy coolness settling over my cunt. I was beginning to shiver a little, which is when his hot salivating tongue dove in with a near ferocity that nearly made me fall off my chair. I held on as best as I could so I wouldn’t slip off. I tried to bring my ankles down to watch him but he held firm, pinning me down with his tongue. I knew it was impossible but I could swear that his tongue was growing thicker and longer. It flickered quickly just above my clit, stroking it until it felt as if I were standing on a cliff, waiting to free-fall into an orgasmic canyon.
Abruptly, his tongue disappeared.
No, don’t stop! Where are you going?
I was disappointed. He stopped so quickly which was rather rude. That was no way to treat a lady. But I kept quiet, waiting and wondering what was going to happen next. Didn’t have to wait too long. His warm wet tongue returned, sliding izmir masaj salonları down between the lips, dipping into my cunt, in and out, in and out then continued sliding down to the puckered hole below.
Oh my god…
I bit my bottom lip. His tongue circled around my asshole teasingly and then began to penetrate. Right into the sphincter. What a naughty boy he was! The tip of his tongue first pushed in then pulled out, pushed in deeper, pulled out and then pushed in even deeper until it felt as if all of his tongue had submerged fully itself into my ass. I was so turned on by what he was doing, I could feel the juices of my cunt dripping down, cooling in the air and seeping into my asshole each time his tongue pulled out.
That oh so marvelous and talented tongue made its way back up again through my vulva to my clit while my ass was being filled up with a finger that rotated slightly as it plunged in and out. His tongue began to quickly massage my clit matching the rhythm of his finger fucking my ass and another that was fucking my cunt.
It didn’t take long for me to come. I’m off the cliff, free falling at last. I came so so hard, that the walls of my vagina and asshole would pulse and pulse, seemingly without end.
The man gently stroked the back of my legs before letting my feet fall with a loud thud to the floor. My leg muscles were so weak they were beginning to twitch.
He stood up and gently pulled me up by my hands. Taking me by the hips, he turned me around and placed his hand on my back, firmly pushing me down until I was lying on the table. With his foot, he spread my legs apart. I wondered how I looked from this view, with only my ass exposed, my skirt hitched up around my waist, my legs covered with the thigh high pantyhose and high heeled boots that reached up to my knees.
With a near violent rapidity, he slid his cock into my slippery cunt as deep as he could. Then he pulled out, and I could feel him sliding the head of his hard-on up and down between the cheeks of my ass. With growing excitement, I eagerly waited for him to push into my ass that was impatiently pushing against him.
He did not disappoint me. At first, he nudged against the hole, pulling away teasingly each time I pressed back towards him.
Oh, come on! Oh, come in, I should say. All the way in.
I turned around to look at him and felt his cock grow absolutely hard as a diamond. He liked that, my watching him. He grabbed my ass and pushed. I could feel my asshole relaxing, opening to allow all of him to enter. He filled me up so completely and so snugly that I began to moan uncontrollably. He began pumping me, harder and harder, always pulling almost all the way out and then pushing in completely again. He did this over and over again, making me slip into a near-trance of exquisite pleasure. He reached around and with a butterfly’s touch, touched my clit and slowed down the tempo of his hips. I could feel his shaft, the head of his cock sinking in and out, be aware of each nuance of his fingers stroking my clit until finally, I felt the hotness of his jizz throbbing into me. Which was so arousing me I also came, my asshole clinching and releasing his cock over and over again.
I was gone, elevated upwards through layers and layers of exquisite pleasure.
Still keeping himself inside, he pulled me upright into a standing position, then turned me slightly and allowed me to sit on him while he sat down on the chair. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and breathed heavily into my back, his cock, now softening a little squishing around a little bit inside my quivering ass.
He reached over to the pack of cigarettes on the table, deftly pulled one out, placed it in my mouth and lit it for me.
And there we sat, waiting for our breathing to return to normal.
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