I didn't want to appear naïve; I wanted to come across as someone who's not at all fazed by sensual advances or a man's boner. I wanted him to see me as a woman who knows how to fend off men, and oddly enough, I wanted to regain control of this sexual puddle we decided to play in.
Careful, Ayn...my mind warned. But what's so harmful about kisses? People do it all the time – the adventurous, totally reckless side of me reasoned.
I was wearing one of the unsexiest outfits in my closet – a pair of Vince sepia flannel wide-leg pants, a white funnel neck pull-over blouse, and a double-breasted flannel blazer. And I thought that my womanly treasures were well-guarded forgetting that I was with Castor Saenz.
That Castor Saenz who knows exactly how to fucking kiss.
Before words of protest or even half-hearted denial could form in my head, his tongue was inside my mouth – roaming, sweeping, exploring, and leaving me breathless while craving for more. But, he was, for lack of a better word, polite, and maybe that was exactly the reason why I was growing pliant in his arms because he was insistent yet gentlemanly.
I felt his warm breath behind my ear and then I felt his mouth on my neck. I squirmed and he stopped giving me time to voice out my protest. But I didn't and he pressed his lips against my skin again earning a contented sigh from me.
My hand traveled down his back and for the life of me, I couldn't help but think that he was overdressed. I groaned in frustration as I tugged at his dark gray blazer.
He sat up before he removed the offending garment. But, he did not stop there, he unbuttoned his polo, too.
Oh, shit, this is not good...
I wished that at some point I would feel invaded or even violated then I could muster the courage to slap him hard across the face before marching out the door. But that point never came and slowly I yielded to that tide of needy warmth and delicious helplessness that he turned me into fueled by the fact that he was guiding my hands to touch his chest.
Hm...
His skin felt velvety against my palms and I couldn't seem to stop touching him. He's lean and well-muscled that I was having a hard time reconciling the pudgy kid he said he was to this exceptional male specimen who was the subject of my inquisitive hands.
He lowered his head before he caressed my lips with his mouth expertly invading my senses. My eyes fluttered close as my hands slid down his back pulling him closer to me.
He lifted one of my legs hooking them around his hips before settling between my thighs. And then he began moving his hips indolently rubbing his crotch against mine.
Wait...
I felt feverish; I knew that I should probably ask him to stop. But he kept my mouth preoccupied and my mind was filled with nothing but those big hands of his which had somehow found their way under my blouse and inside my bra.
Castor! I thought I was calling his name out loud but realized that it was all happening inside my head as he rhythmically slid his male hardness between my legs making my knees grow weak.
"Ayn..." He was moaning and I was getting wet but the delicious friction our bodies were creating was wreaking balling my logic into tiny pieces of needy whimpers.
I opened my legs wider while lifting my hips off the bed unknowingly relinquishing my body to him and he responded by sliding an arm under my hips so he could pull me closer.
I wasn't stupid not to realize that it wasn't sex, we were fully clothed, but I was foolish enough to think that Castor Saenz wasn't going to give me my first orgasm right there on his bed in broad daylight even with our clothes on.
