He grins at me, his hand slowly moving up from my knee to my leg. I got him, I think as I take in the delighted expression on his face. Since the first time I saw Lester, I knew he had a thing for me. Call it lust, passion or even a twisted sense of love, but I knew he wanted me. He wanted me bad, and still does. It drove him mad that, even though he got to fuck me, I never gave him more than that. He knew that I just tolerated him, and that made him seethe with rage; he isn’t a man accustomed to not getting what he wants. But now here I am, sitting on his couch, telling him everything that he ever wanted to hear, calling him a powerful and real man.
I uncross my legs and part them slightly, and Lester starts to breath harder, lust taking over him. From the corner of my eyes, I see a hard shape straining against his jeans, his cock stiffening as he slides his hand under my dress. I put one hand on his shoulder, and then lean my head against it; I place my other hand on his chest, gently massaging him.
“I’ve been dreaming of this for days,” I purr into his ear, and I can feel his whole body relaxing.
“Then why didn’t you come here before?” he asks dryly, but still keeping his hand on my leg.
“I was afraid you’d be mad… I was afraid you wouldn’t want me,” I whisper, grabbing his free hand and taking it to my right breast. He lays it there and curls his fingers, squeezing my flesh softly.
“I want you, you know I do,” he tells me, his words fraught with lustful tension.
“That’s all I needed to hear,” I smile, my hand still on top of his. I press down, making him squeeze my breast harder. He does it willingly, now breathing so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if he just came in his jeans. Moving slowly, my movements patient and deliberate, I reach for the straps of my dress on my shoulders and push one down, making it droop over my arm. He reaches for the other strap and pulls it down, the fabric of the dress falling over my chest and revealing the outer edges of my black lace bra. His eyes dart right to it, and he squeezes even harder on my breast.
“I put this on just for you,” I purr again, and place one hand on his knee. He trembles at my touch, and I look into his eyes, lust and desire flickering there. Finally letting go of my breast, he opens his hand and traces the outer edges of my bra with one fingertip, going down the curve of my right breast and then up the curve of the left one. I reach for the straps of my dress, now hanging limply over my arms, and I push them further down, bunching up the upper part of my dress on my waist and baring my bra to him. His eyes become as wide as plates, and I can see the gears turning inside his head as he imagines all the things he’s going to do to me.
With a grin, I stand up suddenly and turn to him; bending over, I place both my hands on his chest and push him back against the couch. He goes with a groan, and then I climb on top of him, straddling him. I press my forehead against his, just one inch between our mouths, and then run my tongue over my upper lip. His lips part slightly, anxious to feel mine, and I take a deep breath and kiss him. I do it for just an instant, and then I pull back, still smiling.
“I want to see your body,” I whisper, my hands slowly moving to the collar of his shirt. I unbutton the first button there, and then my fingers work on the second and the third, baring his chest. I can feel the beating of his heart against my knuckles, and it’s pounding so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a stroke right now.
“You can see everything you want, babe,” he tells me, and I shudder at the way he says babe. That word on his lips seems as wrong as taking an umbrella out with you on a sunny day. But, then again, everything’s wrong about Lester.
“I intend to,” I continue, unbuttoning all of his buttons. I then push his shirt down his arms, and he places his hands on my ass, sliding them under my dress and cupping my ass cheeks. His long fingers brush against the small string of fabric tucked between my cheeks, and I feel his hard cock throbbing under his jeans. Looking into his eyes, I start swaying my hips back and forth, pressing my pussy against the hard shape between his thighs. He sighs loudly, and then groans as the rhythm of my hips grows and grows until I’m rocking my body so fiercely that he closes his eyes, surrendering to the way I move. You know, you’d be surprised at how many guys I drove to an orgasm just by grinding against them. Maybe you think it’s an easy thing to do, but I can assure you it’s not. It takes some skill to drive a man to climax just by dancing over his cock. But when I feel his cock throbbing harshly, I ease my pace; I don’t want him to come just yet. Oh, no, I have a lot in store for him.