Anticipation 89

7pm. Bedroom. Leave the boxers on.

These are the simple instructions I'd slipped into your briefcase as you showered this morning. I know you'll find it as soon as you settle in at the office, likely scrambling your brain a bit with a keen curiosity right before some important meeting.

Grinning a little deviously at the thought, I watch you back down driveway then dart up the stairs to finish getting ready for work myself...and to prepare our room for tonight.

By noon you've texted me three times, asking for hints as to what you can expect, each one growing more insistent. I don't bother answering verbally, instead sequestering myself in the ladies' room to snap a quick, teasing photo. It comforts me throughout the day to know I'm not the only one being driven mad with anticipation. The thrill comes from knowing yours is tinged with uncertainty.

The first photo captures a view down my blouse, taunting you with lace-clad cleavage. Second, a single hardened nipple poking above the cup of my bra, the tip of my tongue straining towards it from out-of-shot. And for the third, I prop a foot on the lid of the toilet, lifting my skirt and pulling aside my matching, black and silver lace panties. I aim it right at my freshly-shaved pussy, my soft clit peeking between my smooth lips.

I get a phone call during your lunch hour about that one.

Letting it roll to voicemail, I giggle when I listen to your frustrated growling over me 'making you pop a boner in the middle of the damn work day.' The idea of you struggling to damper your arousal for me throughout the day turns me on more than I thought it would. And the smile heard in your voice confirms you're enjoying this as much as I am.

Any subsequent, demanding texts I answer innocently, ignoring your pleas (for clues and/or more pictures), instead asking about your day and,

Would you rather have baked or mashed potatoes tonight, dear?

My co-workers are no doubt wondering about the mischievous smirk I've had plastered on my face all day, but I don't care. Teasing you is one of my favorite things to do.

***

At 6:25 I hear your wheels screech to a stop in our driveway.

Perfect timing.

Grabbing a glass of red wine, I move to greet you in the foyer. The door swings open and your eyes immediately fall on me.

A small smirk crosses my lips when they widen slightly and drop to my feet. From there, they mark a slow path up my bare legs, to the hem of the black, silk robe grazing the tops of my thighs. There is a light pulse between them when I see the tip of your tongue dart out to wet your lips as your eyes continue upward. Your gaze lingers a moment on my chest, the flesh barely concealed by my loosely-tied robe and bra.

My nipples tighten under your gaze, and I wonder if you can tell. I

love

the way you look at me. Love the flash of caveman desire I see in your eyes:

Mine

, they say, when they finally meet my own. You narrow them playfully and kick the door shut behind you. Your briefcase meets the hardwood floor with a thud as you close the distance between us in three long strides.

"

You

," you growl, grabbing my hips and yanking my body close. "Do you know what you've done to me all day? What you've left me to deal with?" The rough desire in your voice alone sends shivers down my spine.

Eyes widened innocently, my tone drips sweetly, "Whatever do you mean, baby?" At the same time, I push my hips purposefully into yours. The length of you presses against my abdomen through your slacks, and you groan lowly through clenched teeth.

Crushing your lips to mine, you press your cock more firmly against me. It's a task for me not to let your glass crash to floor so I can wrap my arms around you and enjoy your hungry mouth on mine...

Determined, I wrench myself out of your arms, giggling over your grumbled protests and grasping hands. I push the wine glass into your hand. "Dinner's gonna get cold, dear," I say calmly over my shoulder, heading for the kitchen. "Why don't you go have a seat in the dining room?"

There's a moment's hesitation where I can tell you're trying to decide whether you should follow my instructions or your instinct to trail behind me and maul me in the kitchen.

Good boy,

I think smugly when you pick the former.

I wait until I hear the chair slide across the hardwood floor of the dining room before I move to the oven where I've kept our plates warm. Knowing you have a direct sightline to where I'm standing, I give an exaggerated bend at the waist as I reach for our dinner. You groan in response to the view as my short robe rides above my panty-clad rear, having always loved the way these lacy boyshorts frame and accentuate my cheeks.

Riding high from the effect my teasing's had on you already, I sashay into the dining room. I lean to place your dinner in front of you, and your eyes automatically snap to the gaping front of my robe. My smirk is unstoppable when I see the bob of your adam's apple as you swallow hard. Before I can move to sit in my own seat, I feel the warmth of your hand wrap around the back of my thigh, stopping me.

"Baby," you say thickly, "what is all this for?"

Leaning over so my face is inches from yours, I answer softly, "I don't have a reason." A slow kiss to your lips and I pull away with a smile. "And I don't need one." You stare at me with a look akin to wonder as I take my seat at the other end of the table.

There truly is no special reason behind my plans for today. No anniversary or recent achievement to warrant the steak-and-potato dinner I've prepared for you. No birthday to prompt this evening of tease. Nothing but an inkling of an idea and my desire for you.

In between bites of my dinner, the fingertips of my left hand make innocent, trailing sweeps over the exposed skin of my throat, my chest, gradually parting my robe further. Your compliments on my cooking and answers to my mundane questions about the goings-on at work become more stilted the longer your eyes follow the motions of my hand.

About halfway through our meal, I've exposed most of my lace-encased chest to you, and you're not even attempting to tear your gaze away from the movement of my fingers. The conversation falls to a standstill, and I let my hand fall to my lap. Your eyes meet mine once more, and the thrill shooting down my spine at your expression tells me that after this precise moment, our dinner will be forgotten.

You toss your napkin onto the table. "Baby, dinner was amazing, but...I think I'd like to go upstairs now." I can't blame you—I'm not hungry anymore, either.

You glance surreptitiously at your watch, and we both know it's not yet seven, as my note appointed. The look in your eye is pleading, but patient, and I know you'll wait if I ask you to. I'd really been intent on drawing things out...on making you wait until 7pm no matter what time you got home. I'd figured it would be no hard feat, since you'd arrived not too long ago. But this day has been just as much about teasing myself...and I want you now, too.

Sipping the last of my wine, I set the glass down, allowing a slow grin to overtake my features. "I'll be right up."

Knowing this is the only cue I'll give you, it's almost cartoonish how quickly you drain your glass and shove away from the table. I can almost imagine a dust cloud where you'd been sitting only moments before.

I make short work of putting away our half-eaten meal, unable to contain my own excitement at the prospect of finally being able to release the pressure that's been building all day. For both of us.

When I reach our bedroom, you are standing at the head of our bed, lightly fingering the blood-red silk fastened to the post nearest you. I silently admire your body from the doorway—the solid planes of your chest and torso, your strong shoulders, and that delicious, hardened bit of you, concealed only by your tented boxers, as per my request.

Your head snaps to the doorway once you sense my presence, and for a moment I think you're about to jump clear across the bed and take me on the spot. But you know now what I have in store for you. Know that I plan to carry out something we've only ever talked about before. Your excitement is palpable when the question in your eyes is answered by the fire in mine.

"Lay down, please," I command softly.

Immediately you comply, crawling to the center of the bed where I've arranged enough pillows for you to be propped comfortably.

The candles I set out this morning are lit, and I press 'Play' on the iPod dock before making my way to your side. With a small smile, I gently grasp your wrist and the silken tie attached to the nearest bedpost. My even gaze is only broken from yours to manipulate the material around wrist and ankle as I circle our bed, pausing at each corner. Right arm, right leg, then left leg and left arm; each tie granting just enough give to be comfortable, but nothing more.

Standing at the foot of the bed now, you are bound before me—eager, helpless, and

hard

. You are undeniably excited by the prospect of handing this control over to me, of trusting me with your pleasure. And I am wet with the thrill of it all.

Your attention is drawn by the movement of my hands, keenly observing the knot being loosened at my waist. Hips swaying slightly to the music, I turn slowly to the side, allowing silk to drip off of one shoulder and winking playfully before my robe drops completely.

I let you watch in profile as my hands wander over skin and lace—neck to shoulders to chest to stomach, to the heated place between my legs, and back.

The front clasp of my bra is undone, the lace falls away, and I pause to caress my nipples. They are hard and forever sensitive, and I think of the ways you enjoy teasing them with your lips, tongue, teeth... The gentle waves of arousal beginning to pulse through me guide a hand to the waistband of my panties. My fingers peek beneath the material, immediately encountering wetness and swirling gently once, twice around my swollen clit.

Turning to you, I note with satisfaction the hardness straining against the thin cotton of your boxers. Knowing that watching me has made you even harder... the pressure growing between my thighs begs for attention. I allow myself a few more swirls, the look in my eyes telling you I'm imagining your touch instead. Your hips move involuntarily, seeking pressure and friction as you observe. The low groan that reaches my ears is all at once desperate, frustrated and dripping with arousal.

Before getting carried away, I push my panties down my hips and gingerly step out of them. I crawl up the foot of the bed and come to a stop when I'm straddling your waist, the heat of my pussy right over your lower abdomen. Your cock juts behind me, just against my ass.

I start with my fingernails dragging very lightly across your skin: beginning at each of your captive wrists, trailing down your arms as I smile from above...continuing past your shoulders to your chest, where I swirl them playfully around your nipples. Leaning over, I kiss each one, darting out my tongue for a quick lick before kissing wetly across your chest, up to your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips.

My breasts and hardened nipples brush against your chest, sweeping purposefully back and forth while I kiss you. My passion is creeping up on me, and my lips are no longer soft against yours, but insistent. Your tongue gets drawn into my mouth, and I wrap my lips around it. At my light moan and long, suggestive suck, your hips buck beneath me.

One hand scrapes down your chest, your abdomen. I shift my weight onto one knee so I can reach between my legs to where you are throbbing. Lightly, I trace your cock with my nails over your boxers—from balls to shaft to rounded tip and back. Adjusting your cock, I lower my hips again, this time with my pussy resting right on your hardness.

My hands smooth distracting patterns over your chest, stomach, sides, and you can feel my warmth, my wetness, through the fabric of your boxers. I shift once, twice, sliding myself purposefully along the length of you. I can't help the breathy moan that escapes me from the pleasure of feeling you pressed so firmly right where I need it most.

Just when you think you may find true relief in this delicious friction, I'm moving again. Eyes trained on yours, my hands connected to your skin, I slink down your body until I'm kneeling between your legs. My fingers slip under the waistband of your boxers and tug gently until the material catches on your stiff shaft, but release the elastic just before your cock has a chance to bounce free.

Instead, I lower my lips over the cotton, my mouth opening to surround your balls. Blowing hot air with just the slightest massaging movement of my lips. I wonder if you can feel my smirk at your shuddering groan; your sounds have always been my favorite treat.

My lips shift upward and part on either side of your shaft, keeping that steady stream of warm breath as I work my way up and down, up and down. When I finally reach the head, my tongue flickers out to tease beneath the tip. You gasp, jumping slightly at the sudden sharp contrast to the gentleness of my lips at your most sensitive spot. This barrier is suddenly too much even for me... I need to feel you in my mouth, and tell you so.

Grasping the waistband of your boxers, I tug them again, this time exposing your thick shaft as I pull them down. When the head is exposed, I wrap it with my lips. My tongue swirls slowly around the tip while I suck gently. Each exposed inch of your cock is taken into my mouth before pulling back, only to work your boxers down further to take more in on the next pull. Always sucking, now laving the underside of your cock with my tongue.

Once the whole of you is exposed, I can't resist taking you into my mouth a few times, relishing your appreciative groans. I release you with a 'pop' before moving to untie your legs, swiftly sliding your boxers the rest of the way off. After tossing them onto the floor, your bindings are deftly re-secured, and I am between your legs again.

My palms smooth up your thighs, past your pelvic bone on either side of your jutting cock, up your stomach, then follow the same path back down, fingernails scraping lightly over your skin (you know I've always enjoyed using them). When I reach your thighs, my fingertips move inward at the crease at your hips, and the backs of my fingers brush against your balls. Your cock gives an anticipatory twitch, prompting me to take you into my mouth again... and so I do.

Fingertips still roaming your body, I repeat the same gradual pull and release of your cock between my lips, more of you entering my mouth with each suction until I've taken in as much of you as I can. Lifting my gaze to yours, I begin to pump your cock with my mouth, wanting to see the pleasure in your eyes and gauge your reaction. Your heavily-lidded eyes, parted lips and stuttered breaths tell me the heat and wetness of my mouth pleases you, though I already ache to take you into another heated, wet place...

You thrust involuntarily, and I encourage the movement by wrapping the fingers of one hand firmly around the base of your cock. Rotating my wrist and pumping along with my lips, I increase the suction of my mouth. When your hips take on a familiar, more erratic movement, I ease the pressure and speed of my mouth and hands, coaxing you back from that precarious ledge. Removing my mouth from you, I slow the fluid movements of my wrist, twisting it over the head, pumping you lightly once, twice more, before I release you completely.

You nearly whimper at the loss of contact when you were just

so close,

but with one, fiery glance, you know my need to feel you inside me, and I know your need is the same.

One last kiss on your velvety tip and I'm crawling up your body until my hands are planted on either side of your head, my knees at your hips. With a wicked grin that does little to hide the intensity of my desire, I settle with the length of you pressed along my slit again, not taking you inside just yet. There are no barriers this time, and I'm so slick from the act of pleasing you, I slide along your cock easily. My face hovers inches from yours, the tips of my breasts brushing against your chest. With the first satisfying press against my hardened clit, my lips are attached to yours, my tongue hungrily tangling with yours. We take turns swallowing each other's moans while I grind against you.

A moment passes, and I pull away from your mouth. Leaning onto one hand, the other repeats that same tantalizing trail down your chest, stomach, until I wrap you in my fingers. After a couple teasing strokes, I run the head of your cock between my lips before positioning you at my entrance. My eyes never stray from yours as I slowly sink onto you, taking every inch of you into me until I am settled onto your hips. Eyelids fluttering, I groan as you do—you from the feeling of finally being wrapped in my tight warmth, and me from finally being filled so completely.

After another urgent press of my lips against yours, I push myself up until I'm sitting upright. I rise off of you slowly until you nearly slip out of me, and then sink just as slowly back down. Pausing a moment to squeeze my muscles around you, giving a tight swirl of my hips as I do. My breaths are heavy from the restraint of not just riding you as hard and fast as I wish, but I repeat the same actions a few times--pull, push, squeeze, swirl--cataloging your reaction and expression to each. I can see your fists clenching, your wrists straining at the ties. I know if they were free, you'd be grabbing at my hips, pulling me harder, faster against you.

Leaning back with my hands on your thighs, I begin to quicken my movements. Your eyes fall to where we are connected, and I reach down to circle my clit with my fingers, crying out from the added pleasure. You groan now, and I can feel you shifting your hips upward, trying to meet my thrusts with your own with as much give as your bonds will allow. I know you are close.

I lean back over you until my chest is pressed against yours. Propping myself on my elbows, my arms curl under yours, hands coming back over your shoulders. Body molded to yours, a few nips of my teeth against your shoulder, and I begin to snap my hips back and forth. Already your hips are eager to meet me, pushing against me as I fuck you.

Each mutual thrust brings my clit in contact with your pelvic bone as I gradually gain speed, and my moans have turned to whimpers from the pleasure of it. Your growls and grunts are driving me wild, driving me to the very edge I know you are close to falling from.

My lips brush against your ear briefly before I whisper, "Please... come for me."

With that, we are both falling. You tense, and my pussy muscles clench and flutter around your cock as you release deep inside of me. I cover your lips with my own, swallowing your groans and whimpering into your mouth as pleasure crashes over us, washing away a day's worth of tension and teasing.

We both eventually fall still, attempting to steady our breathing. Lifting my hips, I moan quietly as you slip out of me.

Placing one last kiss to your throat, over where I feel your pulse still racing, I reach above you to undo your bonds.