It was going to be a very special tea, a very special tea indeed.
The table was set out, the tea things sparkling in the sunlight as the trees cast cool green shadows over gently polished silver, gleaming tureens, and cakes in pillowy covers of frosting. A white linen cloth covered the table demurely, falling down in soft folds, luxuriously appointing the smooth wood.
The first courses had been sumptuous, clouds of creams in soft, flaky pastry. Hot milky tea that clung dreamily to the edges of cups. Cool breeze caressed the celebrants and, ready now for the main course, the wild haired man with a tall hat atop his head.
“We have a special treat today my dears,” he intoned, soft voice curling out from lips scarcely containing their smile. “Now that we have concluded our aperitif, I announce with no small pleasure, the main course.” Sweeping out a magnanimous hand, he allowed all to survey the soft form now adorning the table.
Drowsily the plump lips parted, the ample breasts raised and lowered with soft breathing. Her creamy skin adorned only with enough lace and cotton to draw the eye around her scarcely clad form. The lashes of her closed eyes splayed softly out over her cheeks and she shifted gently in her sleep, only enough to slightly dislodge the cute silk mouse ears that sat with some novelty atop her head.
Many hands flexed, forcing eager fingers into sublime gentleness. The honey tinted light glowed through the leaves and adorned the curves and dips, the softest body, to their questing fingertips. Gently, oh so very gently, they touched her. Trailing caresses over her dreaming form enough to stir the small hairs into attention. Never quite enough to wake the sleeper, just enough that her dreamy stirrings began to show her arousal. Where first a small shift here or there, now their captive moaned quietly through half-closed lips, pressing together her thighs, shifting against the sweet wetness growing in their silky recesses.
The fingers grew more bold, stroking softly across the hollow of her hips, creeping stealthily up to the heavy mounds of breast but always stopping short. Never quite taking the caress on to her straining nipple or pulsing mound. Never pushing their guest into full wakefulness, into full passion.
After an age it seemed, the dark lashes fluttered open. Her lips parted, panting, licking, looking for something to suck, to take into her. Thighs grinding together, she felt desperately as though she needed to be touched, to be filled, to be fucked and brought screaming in the tranquil afternoon light. The hands continued their relentless passage, soft whispers and titters rising like heat on the wind, the odd finger pinching, pressing, dipping into her soft recesses.
Her hands came alive, trying to reach out, to touch the honey thick hot, seeping wetness between her legs but she was stopped. Many hands held her, touched her, teased her, and prevented her from giving herself relief or release. The hands tortured her now, sliding over her hot skin, drifting so gently over nipples and sliding across slippery thigh and soft, aching cunt.
All she could do was moan, beg, and writhe against the hands. A flow of words begging to be fucked until she hardly knew or cared what she said. They plucked at her clothes, pulled them aside, exposed her and teased her.
She dripped for them, fingers reaching up into the light to show the glistening liquid running between them, gleaming.
The man with the hat rose from the seat he had taken, almost a throne. He had played at first but lapsed into merely watching her torment, licking his lip occasionally. Leaning back and seeing her moan. His smile, vaguely sinister, rode his lips now as he came forward slowly, languorously. Letting her gaze settle on him, watching her hips buck against the pulsating need to be touched.
Her tide of words stopped as he stood over her, looking down at the once clad form and the discarded clothes splayed around her. Lazily drawing one hand up her ankle, caressing behind her knee, and creeping up to the slick moisture on her thigh before stopping there.
“Please…” she whispered.
He felt his thick hardness twitch, looking at the moisture glimmering on her thigh, on his fingers.
“Please, what?” He murmured, wicked smile broadening as he devoured her with his eyes.
“Please… fuck me.” She said, looking away, hot blush spreading down her chest and across her belly, somehow further inflaming her aching cunt. She licked her lips, trying to stay still and not buck against the hands that still worked on her as she watched his hand rise, drag up his thigh, and gently slide up and down the firm length of him visible pressing through his pants.
“Well,” he said quietly, “only because you said please.”
His hand strayed up and down his cock a few more times, keeping himself in check. He was going to take his time, after all, such a sumptuous meal shouldn’t be rushed.
The hands that teased her continued their gentle torment, drawing back to small fluttering caresses and tweaks. Trying to reach for him, she shifted, gasping and bucking her hips as the hands bore down softly but firmly on her arms and legs, indicating her stillness.
“I’ll tell them when you can touch,” he said, dragging a fingertip up and around the soft side of her breast, drawing up her neck and cheek to transfer to a dragging caress of his thumb against her lower lip.
Hips bucking, thighs straining and rubbing together, she questioningly drew the tip of his trailing finger into her mouth, sighing with pleasure as he allowed her to roll her tongue over the ball of his thumb before pulling away and painting a line down to her nipple with the small glimmer of moisture. Swirling his finger lazily around her areola, he drew the other breast in hand and squeezed gently, but firmly. After the torment of the teasing hands, firm contact almost brought her, a hot surge of wetness seemed to scald her pussy and she cried out, feeling the hands press her arms and legs gently down against her straining urge.
Attendants rose and stripped him slowly before her eyes, hands undoing buttons, fingertips trailing fleetingly as fabric pulled away and laid him bare, dark tip of his straining cock rising to almost brush his belly.
“Please,” she whispered again, licking her lips and clenching her thighs against the almost painful desperation to be fucked.
“Soon,” he said, finally moving back to her, hands gliding up her hips and sides to the tender mounds of her breasts, laying his hands over her ribs with his thumbs just supporting the delicious heft that he wouldn’t quite completely touch. Stroking his thumbs along the soft weight just above them, he straddled her, his thighs around her hips, his cock resting along her belly. A glimmering drop of precum formed and dripped down the tip, and as she stared and ground herself uselessly against him, he dropped down to kiss her, laying his body fully against hers and grinding himself into her stomach, sliding the tip of his glans in the slippery wetness.
To be continued….
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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hk7btj/the_doormouse_mdom_free_useorgy_choose_your