He came up behind me and began fondling my breasts. I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and the roughness of his hands through my blouse.
He grabbed my hips and pulled me back into him – his pelvis rubbed against my ass and I could feel the evidence of his arousal through the layers of our clothing.
He was content for the moment to simply rub up against me – reveling in the sensation of closeness – drawing out each moment like a taste of fine wine – each exquisite sip demanding to be savoured and enjoyed. It would be a sin not to really; and there was so much other sinning to be done that night.
His hands began moving again – exploring each curve and movement of my form with agonizing slowness and thoroughness.
He began murmuring in my ear. Telling me how sexy I was, how much I turn him on, how he would like to fuck me, but that he was going to make me beg for it. I closed my eyes and sighed with contentment and warmth. Though his words weren’t particularly original or poetic, they still reverberated through me. Making me feel desired and sensual.
I arched my back against him, encouraging him to focus more time and caresses to my now protruding breasts. I do love to have my nipples played with. As if on cue, he began to unbutton my blouse and let it drop to the floor.
His breath on my back caused me to shiver with delicious anticipation. His rough hands reached into my bra to pinch my nipples, which had become increasingly hard and sensitive – the slightest touch eliciting jolts of heat between my legs.
I could hear each article of clothing teasingly fall away. First his tie, which has tantalizingly tickled my legs with before letting it drop. Then his jacket. And then he unbuttoned his shirt with agonizing slowness. I think I could hear each button as it was released, and then finally it too was removed.
He ran his nails up and down my ribs. A gesture both tickling and gentle - almost incongruent with the carnal violation that we both knew was forthcoming. With the other hand he unclipped my bra and threw it with more than a little drama across the room. He pressed his chest against my back and blew into my ear- creating shivers, and an involuntary arching of my back against his torso.
I sensed him backing away slightly, and then felt the unexpected wetness of his tongue trailing up my spine. His hands gripped my hips and clutched me closer to him. I could feel the bulge of his cock – pulsing, straining, willing me to worship and crave it. He rubbed it against my ass- teasing me with what was sure to come.
I reached back to rub his cock- to take some measure of control in the scenario, but he was having none of it. He reached down for his tie, pushed my hands out in front of me and tied them at the wrists. The feeling of utter helplessness and imminent violation was almost unbearable. I could feel my panties becoming increasingly wet by the second and my breath had turned into lust-filled pants. I was completely his slave. His will commanded exactly how far, how hot, and how rough things would get.
I wanted him to consume me. To pull my hair, and bite me and slam himself into me. To take me as his possession. To be used. To perform each carnal act with utter abandon and loss of control. To treat me as a toy whose entire raison d’etre was for the commission of his enjoyment.
I heard the soft slip of his pants easing down his legs. He yanked down my skirt with an abrupt motion and I gasped as I felt his nails scrape lightly down my thighs. Tiny little tell-tale marks of passion, too soon faded.
Only the barest wisp of fabric separated us. Thin sheaths of cotton and lace prevented the consummation of our quickening desire. His enlarged cock pressed against me – torturing me with its taunting presence. An inconsequential slip of material rubbing up against me with mischief – denying me the pleasure of being overtaken and consumed by him.
I was caught- agonizingly suspended in an eternal state of lust-filled anticipation. My cunt dripping, nipples hard, my entire body feverish and shaking. He had absolute command of me, and he teased me by appearing to care more about the journey than reaching the destination.
Finally he acquiesced to my silent plea. He slipped my little lace nothing down over my hips and I impatiently kicked them away. He had already finished stripping himself – and continued his delicious teasing of my ass with his penis, rubbing it up and down the crack.
His hand reached between my legs and rubbed my clit softly – but even the slightest touch caused waves of heat to wash over me.
He gently ran his fingers through my hair, then roughly pulled my head back. I nearly came with pleasure in that moment – it was the definition of sublime bliss. To have my hair pulled; to be handled and taken was all I wanted.
He pushed my head down so I was bent over, and pulled my ass closer to him. He was no longer interested in the journey- it seemed we had arrived.
I felt him plunge into me hard and fast. He gripped my hips bruisingly adding to my delirium. He slammed into me without apology or remorse. No doubt the next day my body would be covered in breathtaking reminders of his possession of me.
My head and breasts rocked back and forth in time to my moans and his thrusting. Pure carnal fucking was the only way to describe the experience. No tenderness or romance. No intimate eye contact sharing an erotic moment.
In fact we hadn’t looked at each other or kissed the entire time. He simply took from me what I was more than willing to give. I was his living, breathing toy. And he used me until we were both spent.