**Prologue:**Despite over an hour of conversation, I feel like I only started to get to know her when I began to defile her. The first installment of this short story series details the initial stages of the evening. Let me know if there’s further interest, I write but not usually erotica. PMs open.
#Begin
We had only met once before, I bought her a cup of coffee and feigned pleasant conversation- and indeed it was. We shared our our days, our interests, our lives; but it’s not what I was truly interested in, and I think we both knew that by now. By the way I spoke to her before we met up, she responded in all the ways quaint enough to give her innocence the benefit of the doubt- supposing she didn’t know about my inclinations.
Throughout the conversation my mind was consistently flooded with detailed imagery. Imagery, and acts. While she spoke about her favorite bands, I imagined what she would look like under the table with a mouthful of cock. While I told her the story about the first time I watched Goodfellas, I was actually thinking about standing up, walking around the table, and shoving my tongue down her throat.
All the while, building trust by telling her about my life. What’s painfully obvious to me, is that through casual conversation and relatable stories I’ve been muffling my desire to fuck her brains out. Fast forward to a week later, we’ve set up a second date- this time at her house. And now, my patience will be rewarded, I have decided it. I arrive promptly, turns out she’s just home from work and ready to relax, already changed into a pair of cozy red pajama pants and a button up pajama top. We’re planning on smoking a joint and hanging out, so she invites me straight into her room. Bingo.
I climb on the edge of the bed and hop under a sheet as she rolls us a joint. I couldn’t help but stare at her hips, the way they wiggled a little when she moved her hands. She was already inviting me to bend her over right then. I strongly considered giving it a smack but I remind myself that I’ll be able to grab it as much as I want once she joins me and plus we haven’t smoked the joint yet.
I purposefully placed myself on the edge of the bed so that she has to climb over me to get to her spot. She giggles as she does. Well, she climbs under the sheet with me and sparks it. I turned on some old movie in the background and we puff away, getting happier by the moment. Once the joint got too small to hold, I decided not to pass it. As she raises her hand to take the joint I give her a tsk, and have her raise her head so my arm can go around the other side of her face. (My large wingspan makes this rather easy) I raise it up to her lips, not quite all of the way. I invite her to do the extra work, and she obeys me- moving her head forward.
Rotation comes back to me,it’s my hit. Instead of moving it to my mouth, I keep it near her face and move in to smoke it myself. I move forward, nearly on top of her- my face is inches from her, our lips even closer. Her breathing tickles my skin, I can feel her lips begin to stutter. And I looked her in the eye while I held in that hit. I mean, I’m really staring at her now. Her eyes captivated me with a gaze of innocent bliss. I had to break away.
She relaxes onto her side and matches me, face to face. I pulled the sheets up a little bit further, and we mentally drifted off together to the faint voice of James Stewart, both of us being fairly stoned at this point. I notice J’s getting real low, and of course since I’m a gentleman I offer her the final hit, then promptly dispose of it and return to the bed with her. The mood took on an ethereal quality to me for a moment, and I knew it was the right time to make a move. Not for an innocent peck on the cheek. No longer waiting for societal conventions, it was time to let my passion directly influence my actions.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her towards me as I move in towards her lips. I close my eyes and savor the taste, our lips played together. And then naturally, our tongues begun to explore. As we makeout, I slowly wrap around her with my left arm, and allow my right hand to creep from the top of her hips to her stomach. I open my eyes as I begin to move my hand slowly up her chest. She opens her eyes and watches my hand in anticipation; she expects me to fondle her breasts, but instead my hand crawls straight past her collarbone, I grip her throat. Her eyes quickly shift up to meet mine, as she holds her breath. The way she looked at me this time, her eyes were full of fear turning into desire. That did the job, so I loosen my grip.
It takes little effort to turn the aggressiveness down for me, it’s that switch that you can throw that’s part of the fun. So I take my hand from her throat, and slowly move it towards her ears, I couldn’t help but smile at her. My palm cups the side of her face. I lightly stroke her cheek with my thumb. She shyly lets out a little giggle……
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/dsqu1c/mfbdsmfsubslow_trust_goes_a_long_way_part_i
Great start. You write really well.
Please more!