Every girl I know has experienced the come on that takes forever, you know the one where it takes an hour for his hand to inch its way to your thigh, and when the moment finally comes you’re so riled up there’s just no more holding back.
Some moments like that you just can’t get out of your mind; you replay them over and over again just to relive the feeling of wanting someone so bad your lower body twitches at the mere thought of it.
I’ve known this guy for a long time and although I’ve always been aware of the physical attraction we share, it was never the right time. It’s still wasn’t the right time considering he has a wife and two kids, but when we found ourselves sitting on my couch and watching a movie on mute a little while back we sort of melted into each other. Couldn’t help it.
He started by massaging my hand, and then my arm. My body feel into his, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. I returned the favor and started to massage his hands and his arms. All I wanted to do was slide my hand up his thigh, but I held back. We really shouldn’t have been doing what we were doing. It was like a test… how far could we go without crossing some invisible line.
Curled into each other, his arm nestled between my tits, my arm lying across his lap. I swear I could feel his hard dick. I leaned my head against his chest and he traced the edge of my lips with his fingers. I parted my lips and let his fingers in, circling his fingertips with my tongue and gently closing my mouth on his index finger… sucking on it as he pulled it out again.
He told me it excited him when I did that. I did it again.
My nipples were hard and my breasts were barely contained within my v-neck t-shirt. I thought about him looking down and staring at the spot where the red fabric cut across the curve of my tits and I exhaled watching them, as I knew he was, rise and fall with each breath.
He slid his hand down my t-shirt, across my skin, in between my tits… never quite curing to one side or the other.
This lasted a very long time, an hour an a half if you ask me, until he slid out from under me…. lifting my head and laying me back down on the couch. He told me he had to go home, but before he did he leaned over me and kissed me.
It wasn’t exactly a kiss, more of a parting of lips, his tongue against my lips just long enough to make them wet. He took a blanket, covered me with it, said he had to leave before he wasn’t able to restrain himself any longer. He was walking down the hallway and I laughed, still under the blanket, I yelled out: “Did you really just cover me up, because it would be easier to leave without looking at me?”
When he was gone, I went to the bathroom. While peeing I saw that my panties were soaked through. A wet spot the diameter of my fist. God, and he hadn’t even touched me, not really… not where I wanted him to.