We talked ourselves to the edge of coming before we left the bar.
Fancy cocktail bars still feel like dress up to me, and I suppose that’s part of the appeal. It’s not my natural habitat, so I hide in the shadows and play pretend as I sip my drink. With her it’s the other way around, and the bar opens its red velvet tongue to welcome her in.
It all vanished as we slipped into a corner, and when she whispered in my ear I couldn’t hear anything else. It was just her breath and her hand on my leg; her words went straight to my cock.
“Make me do everything,” she purred into my ear.
With her, everything meant quite a bit, and I didn’t have to ask where to start. She didn’t want to think, and she didn’t want to question anything. She wanted me to force her to kiss me when we walked in the door and tell her just how to stand as I watched her. She needed me to tell her what to remove and what to leave on, and she needed me to scrub doubt from my mind.
“Should I make you kneel?” I asked her, and she wondered for a second if I meant right then. She nodded her head, and I kept going.
“Should I make you ask and beg for things you don’t want? Should I make you blush with questions you’re too scared to answer?”
She simply nodded again and her voice was lost. I held her hand more tightly than I needed to, and I could feel her body tense as my arm touched her breast when I reached for my drink. She wanted me to say more, but I was quiet as I sipped from my glass. Her imagination could be worse than mine; the longer I let her wait, the more she worried. By the time I finished and took her hand to leave, her legs were weak and I was ready to burst.
“I’m not going to fuck you for a very long time,” I whispered as she put on her coat. She trembled but stayed silent. “When I do let you come, I promise it will be for a reason. It will be for a reason that you have worked very hard to find.”
I caught her when she slipped on the step, and even in the cab she was silent.
*dies a little bit inside*