A Firm Hand (Part 1)

**A Firm Hand (Part 1) by A. G. Ellis**

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You call me and say you want to meet. You’re horny and need release. You’re craving satisfaction. I tell you where to meet me, but I want proof how ready you are. I don’t want anything in my way. I tell you to put on a skirt or a dress, and remove your bra and your panties before you arrive, so I can feel your excitement immediately. You agree, and I can already hear the tremble in your voice.

When I first see you, you are wearing a skirt as instructed and I can tell by the hang of your shirt, by the way your nipples play on the inside of the fabric that you aren’t wearing a bra. And I can see how your nipples poke, in the way your cheeks and chest are flushed, that you have been thinking about me the whole time since our call. I watch you as I follow you in, see your bare legs, the way your skirt dances around your thighs, and I know you’ve done everything I’ve asked to get prepared.

I close the door behind us, and no sooner is it shut that I am turning you away from me to face the nearest wall. I use my body to push you into it, and you let out a gasp as your cheek connects against the cool painted surface. I lean in, run my face through your hair, breathe deep, and then when my lips find your ear, I say, “Take my hands.”

You are breathing so shallowly, like you can’t catch a full breath. I can feel your heart through your back, beating against my chest. Your hands reach back and clasp onto mine.

“Are you wearing a bra?” I ask.

“No,” you whisper.

“Show me. Show my hands.”

Your hands are shaking as you pull my hands forward, guide them under the bottom of your shirt. I feel bare skin graze my knuckles as you lift my hands up, up, till both our hands connect with the soft full undercurve of your breasts, up over the hard tips of your nipples. You continue to move my hands, rub them forcefully over your tits, enjoying every sensation.

“Mmm,” I say. “Now lose the shirt.”

You don’t question. Your hands leave mine and lift your shirt deftly up over your head. I marvel at your skin, your shoulders, your back, your neck. Every curve, every line. Now, cupping your breasts tightly, I push your nipples in against the cold wall. And I feel you sway, losing your balance for just a second. Instinctively your hips push back, until your ass finds the pronounced bulge growing in my pants, and you lift yourself up on your tiptoes, maneuvering until my crotch was finding a home in the crack of your ass. I relent, and grind into you a bit, feeling more and more excited by your excitement. The way you move your body over the wall, the way you crave more and more stimulation.

“Are you wearing panties?” I ask, a deep low voice in your ear.

“No.”

“Show my fingers.”

You take one of my hands and guide it down over your belly, between your body and the wall. Down over your waistband, down to the hem of your skirt. And holding my hand firmly, you work it under your skirt, up over the smooth bare skin of your thighs. And already I can feel the wet heat of your pussy, before my fingers even connect. But when they do, it’s like an electric shock jolts through your body. The first thing I feel is your coarse pubic hair, already soaked with excitement. But in an instant my fingertips find the slick wet lips of your pussy. And the way you grip my fingers, the way you move them, and force them to part your lips, you want my fingers inside you.

But I have other plans.

I console you by running my finger through your juices, over the hot wet slit of your pussy, but I also take your hand quickly and make you do the same, getting your fingers wet with you. Then I pull our hands up and put our fingers to your lips.

“Taste yourself,” I say, and watch as you wrap your lips around my fingers, then yours. Your full pink lips pull back past our knuckles, taking off every bit of your flavor. Your eyes don’t even open. It’s as though you’re in some form of a trance.

“And now,” I continue, gathering your hands into mine, and lifting them high above your head, pushing your palms flat against the wall, “I’m going to taste you.”

I kiss my way down your back, from your neck and shoulders, between your shoulder blades, over the small of your back. And as I do, I’m gathering your skirt up, ever so slowly revealing your ass to me. Such an incredible ass. I lay kisses on both cheeks, run my tongue over your skin. I feel you lift more on your tiptoes, sway backward against my face, and I decide that both of us have waited long enough. Grabbing one ass cheek in either hand, I pull them wide apart, push up, lift you so I can see everything, from tight pucker of your asshole to the hot swollen lips of your pussy. And I bury my face in you, my mouth licking, sucking, tasting every flavor you have to offer me, every texture. You shudder at the overwhelming shock of sensation. Feeling my lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in, feeling my face pressed so firmly against your ass. But you nearly buckle when my tongue first enters you. My thick tongue pushing into your pussy, working its way through the tight opening, my face finding a rhythm against you as my tongue fucks you.

The more I work my tongue into you, the more I feel your legs shudder, like convulsions were taking over. Your hands change positions several times against the wall, desperately trying to brace yourself as you lift your ass more toward my face. The heavy-scented mix of your juices and saliva is running down the inside of your legs, over dewy sweat that had raised in your excitement.

I am so aroused by your flavor, by the tremors building in you. I love the shivers in your legs, knowing you were so close. Then I move one hand between your legs and replace my tongue with my thumb, inserting it into your tight anxious pussy, and with the side of my index finger rub over your clit. The deep forceful rhythm of my hand takes you by surprise, and you nearly collapse in the surge of sensation. You are there, and I know it. So while my hand pulls your orgasm out of your pussy, I use my tongue on your asshole, and that fast flicking of my tongue tip takes you over the edge. Your whole body quakes and tenses, contracts and shakes, every muscle feeling the first release.

I don’t stop until you beg me to, until my whole hand is soaked and my face drenched with your flavor. But I’m not going to let you rest. The feeling of you in my mouth has me so fucking hard. Now it is my turn.

**** End Part 1 ****

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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gr528q/a_firm_hand_part_1