a teaser....

Your story...

She could feel her hips lifting and smiled to herself. The age old gesture of consent – when a woman lifts her hips so that the man can slide of her panties in one smooth movement. The signal that means – I want you, I want you to want me. She could feel her panties going down smoothly but slowly past her legs and off. This is it then, she thought. I guess this means no turning back now.

It wasn’t like her eyes were blindfolded but had just automatically shut themselves, squeezed themselves to prolong, absorb, squeeze whatever pleasure could be taken from this moment. Her hands were tied though, above her head, with a scarf she had impulsively worn in the morning before going to pick him up.

She could hear the kettle beginning to whistle – was it only ten minutes ago that she had offered him some tea, in an effort to make the situation more normal, more for herself than him. He didn’t look in the least nervous, amused when she said he could drop off his stuff at her flat (wasn’t she supposed to be wary of showing him where she lived) but she had done it nonetheless. Think some of those doubts had faded when she had seen him for the first time, though paradoxically some nervousness had increased.

It had all started in a funny way, his hands had pulled her out of the kitchen, saying – so let me see what I’ve got. She felt herself move at his gentle yet imperious tug and move towards him, curiously feeling naked before being so. He stood there, just looking at her, still clothed. She tried to be comfortable; this was afterall the body that she had carried all her life, what was there to be nervous about. And a few minutes later, she could feel the scarf that wound around her throat being removed, and strangely her eyes voluntarily closed then.

She felt herself being pushed down on the red couch, where she had lain many nights snuggling with her vibrator clutched in her hand, still whirring as if it could substitute the breathing of a lover next to you, as if it could imitate life, though it did a better job in some respects than some of her previous lovers, she had to admit. She sank there, and felt her hands being tied above her head. She heard herself say in a shaken voice – didn’t you have something else in mind, something more elaborate for the first time?

And got an almost cold response – just checking… checking what I’ve got myself into. She felt fear at that moment, maybe he would leave right now, maybe just walk out at this minute and she would never know anything more about all that he had spoken about, or even strangely what bothered her more, without her knowing more about him.

She felt the elaborate Indian skirt that she had worn being loosened at the waist and his hands slipping inside. Without removing her skirt or any other clothes, he had slid off her panties and dropped them on the side of the couch. And then she felt nothing, nothing moved, it was still… she could hear no breathing. She opened her eyes then, and they fell on her panties lying innocently on the floor, like they hadn’t just witnessed her consent, her flagrant infidelity once more, her absolutely shamelessness when it came to a certain type of man. The kind that with words could turn on the light inside her, so that living was more delicious, so that you actually felt the taste of life run through your tongue, you didn’t cross the road foolishly or take stupid risks with yourself because you want to be there tomorrow, when he pops up on your computer screen and says – hey.

And then her eyes shifted to him, and he was looking back at her. Eye contact was her frailty during sex, either she could only do it with her lover of 6 years and with anyone else her eyes sped away to the ceiling. But here, now, she was captured, held almost against her will by his gaze. And for once in her life, he looked away first. He was almost kneeling before her, while she lay on the couch. Before she could move her legs to bring them closer, she felt his large, brown hands push them apart. The skirt neatly and conveniently fell away at this point like a dress in a James Bond film.

Her eyes closed again, her head fell back as she could feel breath on her pussy, gentle warm breath surrounding and almost filling her clit. If air could turn to syrup, or honey, or anything warm and liquid like a tongue, then just now the air from his mouth falling on her pussy just had.

It was just that, air, no words, no touch unless you counted his hands now moving along her leg. Though she could barely feel that, so absorbed was she in this feeling around her clit. But now as his breath was removed, she could feel his hands gently drifting along her skin. It was building in heat, and she could feel wetness form between her thighs, which she was sure he could see as well, otherwise why the chuckle. Mentally she cursed herself and men, at that point, but not with any real viciousness.

Her eyes remained tightly shut, her hands lay obediently in their bondage, but her legs moved somewhat restlessly to move around him and draw him back to her pussy. But before that movement could even reach anywhere, she felt imperious hands hold them in place. No, not yet, not so soon. And just to make you feel even more frustrated, maybe not all.

He was breathing on her again, while she lay naked waist down, her top still on, though she could see her nipples harden from where she was. And hoped he couldn’t. But she was sure he could, these signs are difficult to miss if you are looking for them. And for some strange reason, she could feel herself beginning to build up to climax, just from being looked at and the breathing. Maybe she could cum, without him realizing how easy it could be for her if she was already so wet. And then with delicious shock, she felt one lick across her clit, and for a few brief seconds, the tongue stayed on the clit. If she could have moved she would have shifted closer and abandoned her pussy to his tongue, but she was too shocked to move, and then he got up to leave.

And said, lets go.

She got up shakily, maybe he noticed that she couldn’t really stand and her breath was jagged, because the next thing she knew was the warmth of arms around her, pulling the skirt up and fastening it. That was a relief, she thought, because I don’t know if I could have done that myself. He looked less intimidating then, and she felt something inside her relax.

She felt herself regain some normalcy, and pouted and said – that was almost not fair.

And he smiled, and said – consider that a trailer or teaser for the rest of the movie, or whatever you call that in your country.

She smiled – in the country where I’m currently living, we call that a teaser. Definitely a teaser.