I sit here sipping my drink, full of disdain and no faith or hope for this wretched evening. I watch you blankly. I wonder why you are still here. This awkward silence between us has surpassed its allotted time. I glance and sip. Glance and sip.
You stare at me, wondering if I am going to make a move. I am distant and uncertain. I don't want anything from you. Now, you choose this very moment to change my mind.
“Go ahead,” I scoff to myself. “Try and change my mind if you can.” I bet everything I have I won't move.
I see you sipping your wine silently across the room. The atmosphere is formidable and unforgiving. You already know there is nothing between us, nothing to save. We have finished before we started. Still, I watch. I brush off any hint of interest with the coldest expressions I can display. As I watch, you try to see right through me.
“Good luck,” I think. You will need it.
I sip my wine again. My glass is half empty; you are full of yourself. I stare at you silently, unfettered in your salacious glare. You might as well be alone. I might as well not be here. Let's see what you do.
You bite your lip lustfully. You gape shamelessly at me, nudging your dress down your supple shoulders. Your hands caress your body as if you are telling me what you want my hands to do to you. You kneel and caress my thigh, trying to get my attention. I don't want it. I don't want you! I brush your hand away every time you attempt to touch me.
You grow desperate. I see your eyes fixed on mine. I look away. My expression is bored and cruel. You can't impress me. I don't care that you're throwing yourself at my feet, begging for my affection.
I see you are enticed by my indifference. The more I ignore you, the more aroused you get. I am confused, the only reaction I have shown you all night. You kick your heels off and slide off your stockings. Your smooth thighs glisten in the candlelight as you bend over the couch. I see your hands peek between your thighs. You imitate my touch, from the last time I grabbed you there. I sit shaking my head in disapproval. You wait. You look. I look back. My brow furrows in disapproval.
Your fingers move in and out, slowly sliding and slowly dipping. They circle around and around over your sodden flesh. I can't stand it. I am supposed to be your hand. I am so close to you, but I am not even in the room. My mind is across the world, looking to a future I can't find. Your attempts to switch my mood are a waste of time.
I finish the rest of my wine, unaffected. I rise out my chair and walk away. You grab my wrist to stop me.
“What?” I snap. “What the fuck do you want from me?” You pout and look deep in my eyes, trying to thaw my cold expression.
“I want you.” There it is. You said it, but I no longer have respect for such a response. It doesn't even phase me, yet I don’t leave.
I lean against the wall. You pin my body against it. Your flesh touches mine. Your face is close to my lips. You kiss me. Even when I turn away, you hold my head in place. I kiss you back. You exhale in relief. It's like you won a silent wager in your head. I look at you and watch your expression.
“I can't do this any more,” I whisper.
“That’s what you said last time,” you whisper back, running your tongue softly over my lips.
“I don’t want you!” I snap; but I am unsure.
Your hands reach between my thighs and suddenly your fingers are inside me. You lift your soaked fingers to your mouth and suck off my juices. Your eyes melt like it’s a delectable treat.
“Your body is saying otherwise,” you smile.
You’re right! My hardened core is melting to your touch. The next thing I know, I am sitting back down on the chair, my panties stuffed in my mouth, my legs spread wide over the armrests. Your arms wrap around my thighs as you lick up and down slowly. The soaked folds of my pussy spread open, inviting your tongue to slide deeper. I bite down on the balled-up lace in my mouth. Even now that I have given in, I am still fighting. I don’t want to come. More so, I don’t want you to make me come. But your succulent mouth and slippery tongue are doing everything right to get me there.
I sit as still as I can with my eyes shut, my pleasure heightening with every lick. Any sudden movement from my hips will make me explode. Still, I fight it. My breathing is heavy. I can feel my heartbeat rising to my throat. Then, you shove three fingers inside me, the sudden pressing making my stomach flex. I am done for! My first instinct is to grab your head and fuck your face until I let out every throb, your lips wrapped tight around my clit. I scream out as I come all over your face. I collapse back, panting heavily. I spit my panties out as you straddle my waist.
I push you off me. I grab some duct tape and a vibrator from my drawer. I strap it to your pussy and wind the tape tightly around. I tape your wrists to the armrests but leave your legs free to move. Then, I turn the toy on, pour myself another glass of wine, and leave you there. Your moans reverberate throughout the house. I am now upstairs, smiling…waiting.
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