The Girl on the Bed

The girl on the bed smiled at me knowingly and bunched the sheet tightly to her chest. Waves of cotton cascaded along the length of her body, covering and concealing her nakedness. Strategically positioned or sheer accident, the pure whiteness merely hinted at the bare flesh beneath.

She flicked her hair and the strands brushed over freckled shoulders teasingly, first one way and then the other, dancing in the cool air and sparkling in the spring sunshine. As she leaned back and propped herself on one long and slender arm, the smooth silky thigh stretched tantalisingly wide – inviting my gaze. But the tumbling sheet covered her modesty just as it exposed the curve of her hip.

‘What are you going to do to me?’ she asked.

I leaned forward then, spreading my arms wide and gripping metal bedstead tightly. ‘I think you already know.’

She raised a finger and beckoned me forward seductively. leaning further back into the bed.

Resisting her beckon I whispered, ‘Not yet. First I want you to do something for me.’

Slowly, she sat up straight and pushed her chest out and forwards. The waves of cotton fell down the length of her, hugging breasts and emphasising cleavage. ‘But I need you.’

My heart skipped a beat. ‘And I will give you exactly what you need, but not yet.’

Still with the sheet wrapped around her, she crawled forwards on all fours with feline grace. ‘Close your eyes.’

I did so and next heard the soft sound of the sheet dropping from around her body. The bed creaked as she moved forward again. I waited yet nothing happened so I opened my mouth to speak. She hushed me into silence.

I felt the warm caress of her fingers on the inside of my thigh, just above my knee. She held it there; I felt the warmth of her delicate touch pass from her to me. My heart quickened as she feathered her fingers up the inside of the thigh, teasing with the tips until she arrived near to my crotch. I felt the front of her finger lightly brush my testicle; it retracted in response.

She slid her arm between my legs, allowing my penis to drape along the inside of it – my cock tingled at the smooth flesh as she reached forward and hooked her arm upwards to touch my backside – my cock resting in the soft cleft of the inside of her elbow. I relax and enjoy the sensation of cool, soft skin against my stirring penis. Then, just as gently, she slides her hand backwards, placing her finger into the cleft between my buttocks as she pulls back.

I let out a contented sigh as I feel the skin of my testicles retract and my cock begin to tighten. She pauses briefly, allowing my growing penis to rest on her forearm. I feel her other hand brush along the top, smoothing and stroking along the length of me, nurturing, touching, teasing and sweeping me to full attention.

‘Don’t open your eyes,’ she reminds me. I nod and smile in agreement. I can feel her fingers, delicately spider-like on the sides of my cock. Her grasp is a mere gentle clamp as she peels back the foreskin. My glans yearns to to break free, pushing outward as the skin stretches under the sweet pressure of her. Until finally relieved of the epidermal cage and the room’s cool draft providing scant relief, I am exposed.

Something warm and wet touches the tip of the glans and draws it in. My lover’s lips have never felt so sweet and she presses her tongue gently against the narrow opening. She moves the muscline in small deliberate teasing circles. I feel her lips slide over the curve of the glans, up the rise of the lip and down the other side to clamp on the cleft below.

And there she holds it. I relax in the warmth of the oral embrace – the bliss of the flesh envelope and finally, she pulls back. With one small suck, she withdraws her mouth from my cock. I hear her lean back on the bed and shimmy towards me.

‘Don’t open your eyes,’ she reminds me a third time.

Taking my cock in hand once more, I feel her guide it, pushing it upwards gently. Her legs slide along my thighs and clamp around me, the heat of her calves rest against my buttocks. My penis presses against something warm, wet and rough – something that parts beneath the pressure of my erection. She moves her hips move in deliberate motions, transferring some of her slick wetness against me. The rough hairs part with the slickness of her and my penis soon finds the cleft. ‘You’re wet.’ I comment.

‘Yes, my love.’

‘For me?’

‘Yes my love. I need you,’ she whispers. ‘When are you going to fuck me?’ I can feel it in her, sense it in her – that longing, that want, that desperate need. That is what I have been waiting for.

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