Sensual Smut Conversations And Thoughts

FIFTEEN

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We're in public at social gatherings when you start your mischievous acts.

You're looking stunning in an elegant summer dress that is half way to your thighs and snugs you well in places to accentuate your curves.

You're acting like a bitch in heat as you flirt with the waiter, batting your lashes and laughing at their antics. Every time, you turn to look at me to make sure I'm paying attention. You smile when you notice the smirk on my face, and I do. You make sure you have my full attention by gazing directly into my eyes.

I lay my hand over your bare thigh under the table and squeezed hard, and you turn those big innocent eyes over at me and tilt your head in question.

"Yes, baby?" You look like you think you've won already.

I take a deep breath, as I just manage to stop myself from snapping at your actions. I just listen to the sound of your breath quivering. I lean in and squeeze your thighs.

"Just wait, baby." That's all I tell you, and your thighs clench together under the table, trapping my hand between them.

I pull them apart firmly, slowly creeping my fingers up towards your panties. I can feel the heat coming off of your pussy. My pinky brushes against the growing wet spot on the fabric, and I stop. My hand stays there for a while.

You put out your best effort, trying to appear happy and engage in conversation with our friends as though nothing significant was going on beneath the surface.

We leave after hugging our friends goodbye, and I lead you out to the car with a firm hand on your lower back. I open the passenger door for you and help you in before making my way to the driver's side.

On the drive home, I keep one hand on the wheel, and the other I use to prop my head up next to the window. I don't look at you once.

You're squirming, turning your head to look at me every minute or so. You reach out to try and lay your hand on my thigh.

"No."

You obey. You know that tone. You know I'm not playing. As riled up as you like to get me, you're also my good girl, and you know when to behave.

When we get home, I open your door to let you out of the car. I take your coat and hang it up in the hall closet. I kneel down, ease your feet out of your heels, and gently work the soreness out of them. My lips brush the top of your thigh, and I watch your muscles tremble.

I stand and stroke your hair away from your face, kissing your temple.

You watch as I walk away, pulling that plump bottom lip between your teeth, when I sit in the big, comfortable chair you often curl up in to read.

I roll my sleeves up and plant my feet firmly on the floor, patting my leg. My eyes track the blush that spreads over your face and neck.

You make your way over to me on shaking legs. You're biting back a pleased smile. This is exactly what you want, but you have a role to play, and you play it well. Your body stretches over my lap naturally, like it belongs there.

I stroke your hair and push your dress up over your ass, pulling your soaked panties down enough to reveal your swollen pussy.

You brace yourself and look up at me with glistening, relieved eyes. We share a smile before my expression goes hard. Your body jolts when I give you a warning swing, your head swiveling around to face away from me again.

The subsequent swings are less kind, and afterwards you're gripping the fabric of my pants and panting into the arm of the chair. Your thighs are shaking nonstop.

I dip my fingers down to feel the mess you've made of yourself, roughly pushing two inside you just to hear the strangled whimper I know you'll release. I pull them away, just as suddenly, and swat at your sodden, swollen lips.

You nearly buck out of my lap, and I swat you again just because.

I repeat the process for the next half hour, fingering you enough to have you whimpering, then spanking your ass, thighs, and pussy.

You're on the precipice, begging me to let you cum.

I feel sweat drip down the side of my face and a sting on my open palm, and I decide to give you what you've been such a slut to earn. Once my fingers start stroking your clit you only last a few seconds. I slowly work you through your orgasm, leaning down to press kisses on your sweat-soaked hair and murmuring praises until you stop quivering. I pull you into my arms and let you rest your head on my chest, gently rubbing your back. I'm humming what a good girl you are while you come down from the rush of emotions our time together has caused.

We sit like that until you're nearly drifting off, then I hold you close and stand to walk you to the bathroom. I pamper you with a long bath and a massage. After, we curl up in bed and fall asleep wrapped up in one another.

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