[Part 1, told from her perspective…](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/inthlt/an_online_affair_fm/)
I pull my body off hers, the events of the day still swirling through my mind like vibrantly colored leaves on a blustery Autumn day—the craft beers at the hotel bar, a nervous ride on the elevator, and a torrent of libidinal passion breaking weeks of built up sexual tension.
I turn my head and find her looking at me, her breathing still heavy.
“That was… unexpected”, I say.
“Better than unexpected… that was… fucking awesome,” she answers, with the slightest of smirks. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“What do you think?”
Her eyes cast down towards my cock, still glistening with our combined lust, before declaring, “I’d say so.”
Propping herself up on her elbow facing me, she continues, “You should be thanking me actually.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I let you take that opening drive to the end zone,” she says with satisfaction as she lifts herself off the bed. “But the rest of this game belongs to me.”
She bounds off the mattress, and without looking back, disappears into the bathroom. “Come shower with me”, she calls from within, the reverberating echo making her voice sound like the seductive call of a distant siren. From the intonation, it feels less like a request and more of a directive. I consider this for a moment before getting up. “Gave me the opening drive” is what she intimated. I don’t think she quite gets what I am about when it comes to feminine pleasure.
When I step through the doorway I find her already in the glass enclosed space, water cascading slowly down her body. Her back to me, I take the opportunity to act the voyeur, breathing in every curve of her physique with my eyes. Athletic, lithe, and petite, I feel a sudden urge to have her body wrapped around mine, suspended in the air in an act of illicit embrace.
“Don’t just stand there” she says without turning, her acute awareness jolting me out of my trance. “Come in and help me get clean.”
Opening the door, I step forward, immediately met by the circulating heat inside. I idly wonder if the warmth I feel is more intense from the accumulated steam or my escalating desire as our naked bodies once again press together. I run my hands up and down her back, before settling casually on the upper curve of her ass just as my mouth finds hers. Our tongues dance together in an ardent waltz whose timing and choreography already feel familiar.
She allows this passionate embrace for just a moment before pushing me away with a playful smile. She backs herself under the shower head, allowing the full force of water to immerse my torso. Leaning against the back wall, she motions to an array of bath amenities and toiletries.
“I want you to wash my body. And don’t do it the lazy guy way. Be deliberate. Be thorough.” She pauses as if considering her next words carefully. “If I’m going to let you play with me again, you’re going to have to earn it.”
I immediately find her directness both startling and intriguing. Though always at ease with her through months of flirtation, there was also a part of her that felt just out of reach—missing puzzle pieces that kept her full mosaic from emerging into view. It seems in matters of attraction, the orbit of lust can just as easily center around the gravity of enigma as that of natural chemistry.
Armed with a wash cloth and soap, I find myself again on bended knee studying the finer details of her lower limbs. Using a firm touch I make a show of running my hand along her legs, first along her sculpted calves and then against her slender thighs. The intimate strokes from my bare hands serve to cleanse her skin, while also dirtying my thoughts. Through the suds I see her clit swelling, a beacon for her building arousal. But just as the pads of my thumbs near the apex between her inner thighs, she slaps them away.
“I didn’t say you could touch”, she exclaimed above the din of the shower.
“You said to be thorough. How can I be thorough if I don’t?”, I flirt back, trying to conceal a tinge of sarcasm.
“I didn’t say you could touch,” she repeats, her face firm, though relaxed and confident.
Immediately recognizing the cadence and language of dominion, I lower my head, smiling to myself in the process. “There she is” I think with finality, the gestalt at last coming into view…
“Yes, you are right, that’s my mistake,” I reply, my role understood and established..
I resume my assigned task, eyes focused on performing exactly as expected, pausing before touching any intimate areas, asking with my eyes for permission each time. My arousal becomes heightened with every nod of satisfaction and approval, the orchestration of her own pleasure playing as lyrics against the steady beat of water against our bodies.
I finish standing upright, my final touch a gentle caress across her décolletage.
“Well done” she says, again moving back against the wall, leaving me to take the full spray. I stand there in silence, waiting for my next directive. “Somebody knows his place it seems… I’m a little surprised.”
“By now you should know I’m full of surprises,” I offer.
“I suppose so,” she says, shutting off the water.
She grabs my hand and brings it to the base of her mound, looking up at me as I feel her fingers wrap around two of mine. As she places them at her entrance, she closes her eyes and nods, a silent command that our innate chemistry has already defined. I push two digits into her, a sharp sigh of pleasure escaping her lips. Her pussy feels almost impossibly warm, accepting its entrants easily, soaked from the tension built throughout her body’s cleansing. After several tantalizing strokes, I move to massage her g-spot, wanting praise for my quick navigation of her inner sanctum. The gasp she emits affirms my come hither pulse has found its mark. She braces herself with arms wrapped around my shoulders. I resist an urge to take more of her, the lesson of her slap fresh in my mind. I focus just on her pleasure, the look on her face as her release approaches springing my cock to life. Her moans echo loudly against the tile as explicit appreciation for a job well done.
For a moment, she stands in silence, her arms still draped around me. Because she stays still, I do the same, conscious to wait for a signal that her wave of pleasure has fully receded. Her hand clasps my wrist, pausing briefly before withdrawing me from her, my fingers coated with the climax I worked to coax from her.
She looks up at me, her eyes soft, silently relaying her satisfaction. “Thank you”, she mouths before kissing my chest.
I raise a single eyebrow, and cast my head aside, a knowing smile meant to relay my understanding; my hope for specific praise.
She returns a smirk, shaking her head at the semantic acknowledgement of the dynamic we’ve just established.
“Okay fine,” she says with a pause. ”Good boy.”
Pleased with myself for what I just earned, and wanting to playfully escalate our flirty exchange, I raise the two fingers that just delivered my reward to my mouth, holding it there, awaiting her permission.
Without missing a beat she grabs my wrist and pulls my arm back to my side. “No. I’m not finished with you yet. You don’t get to taste me again until I say so. Go lie on the bed and wait for me there.”
Realizing I pushed too far, I don’t protest and turn to leave, wondering if punishment is in my future.
She emerges from the bathroom a few minutes after I left; no robe or towel, seemingly at ease with her nude body in my presence.
As she approaches, I lay completely still, my eyes and attention fully affixed on her. My cock, wholly engorged for the duration of my wait, is greeted first, her fingers gripping me at my base as she leans forward towards my face. At first I think she’s angling for a kiss, but instead she deftly leans to the side, placing her mouth at the side of my head.
“You were rather naughty in there with your fingers,” she whispers, her lips almost purposefully grazing my earlobes as I strained to hear each breathy intonation. “But I was glad to see you recognize who is in control. You’re lucky I permitted your earlier bit of fun. It will make taking my pleasure from you now, fucking delicious.” She lifts her face in front of mine, staring directly into my eyes.
“You’re a little better at this than I thought. I’m pleasantly surprised. Before I make use of this” her grip on my cock tightening for emphasis, “you’re going to put your mouth on me… you need to make me cum. Do a good enough job and maybe I’ll fuck you.” Her directness so arousing, for a moment I need to redirect my concentration to prevent myself from cumming.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes”
“Are you going to disappoint me?”
“No”
“Good.” She releases my cock and begins to trail a finger up and down its length, just as she did previously, never breaking eye contact as she does so. The contrast in dynamic for this iteration rings clear in my head. The full girth of my entirety pulses in response to her touch.
“I really want to play with this again,” she says with a mischievous smile, pausing for effect. “Don’t fuck this up.”
“I won’t.”
“Good boy”
In the next instant, she is upon me, straddling my head on her knees, the center of her pleasure hovering above my face. She grabs a fistful of hair just as she lowers her delicate folds onto my greedy lips.
“Mmmm… fucking eat me” she whispers out loud.
The directive unnecessary, I’m already devouring the task at hand, my tongue bathing her inner and outer lips in long, deliberate swaths. Confident in the rhythms that pulled the orgasm from her previously, I move with method and technique firmly in place, my lips and tongue working together to coax her clit from its hood, full and swollen. Just as her breathing hits a summit, her hips begin to sway, allowing the flutter of my tongue to express its feathery touch across more of the space between her legs, but seemingly avoiding her sensitive button. It becomes clear she’s edging herself, imbuing me with confidence that her ultimate pleasure through me is a foregone conclusion, its eventual timing determined only by her. She allows for my touch to reach all of her intimate areas, the level of taboo a mild surprise as she settles in for a longer, deeper exploration. I feel rewarded for the privilege and give each of the thousands of nerve endings its deserved stimulation.
The cycle of varied pleasure repeats itself, each visit to her button achieving a higher apex, but ending prematurely with a retreat back to either of the two clefts of feminine delight. The sweet taste of her desire permeates my mouth with each rotation, flooding my senses with the energy of her raw sensuality. The scent of her pussy covers my face, marking me as hers in my mind, a branding I accept greedily, relishing in the headspace it delivers.
I feel her grip on my arms, bringing my hands to her chest. She settles her clit squarely on my lips, pushing down more firmly. She’s finally ready and I gird myself to deliver.
“Make me cum”
I use her directive as license to take liberties. My fingers find her nipples, hard and clearly sensitive as my touch calls forth a deep and sudden moan.
“Harder… pinch me harder… don’t fucking stop”
I know she is close, her release all but within my grasp. I time my pinches and pulls with the pressure from my lips and tongue, matching the rising urgency in her breathing. She pushes down against my tongue with her full weight as her final edge nears its end. I release her nipples, allowing the burn from the rush of blood to set her chest aflame just as her orgasm hits. Her hips push back and forth, grinding across my mouth until she finally crested, her satisfaction punctuated with a breathy “Fuuuuck…”
She looks down and smiles, my eyes the only thing visible between her thighs. For a moment her face softens, and we are again two people nervously exploring a shared connection—an unvarnished window into each other’s soul. She mouths a kiss, a sly smile forming in its place. Anticipating the moment, mentally I resume my subordinate spot in the pecking order.
“Don’t move,” she commands.
She maneuvers quickly, shimmying herself down my torso until she is situated above my erection. She reaches between her legs to position me at her entrance.
Placing her hands on my hips, she presses down for leverage, the meaning of the nonverbal cue unambiguous to me. “I’m going to use my cock now,” she declares, her use of possessive sending a jolt of heat to my groin, deepening my hardon. “Don’t you dare cum until I tell you.”
She slowly descends on me, each inch a discrete declaration of what belongs to her. When she finally claims the length of me, she finishes with a solid bounce and grind at the bottom, reveling in the sensation of fullness I provide. Her weight again on her hands, she slides back up, and then down again, eyes never breaking contact.
Up… then down. Up… then down. Up… then down.
Slowly. Achingly deliberate.
“No moving”
A little faster…
“No touching”
Still faster
“Mine to pump…”
She hits a rhythm, again without breaking eye contact. I keep my face stoic, instinctively knowing that pleases her. The sounds of wet strokes betray the intensity of her arousal. She bottoms herself out and begins to grind her groin into the base of mine.
I accommodate her transition, tilting my pelvic bone to provide for better friction.
“Do you want to cum?” she asks. I know any answer from me is actually irrelevant. She doesn’t even bother to wait. “I’m not finished with you yet. There’s something else I want to try. Let’s see if you’ll last.”
She slides along side of me on all fours, motioning me to take the natural spot behind her. I move myself into position and run my hands along the slope of her feminine curves. In doing so, something in my mind clicks and it becomes clear what I want to do next. I bend my cock between her legs, slapping it against her clit like a maestro calling his orchestra to order. I place my tip between her slippery lips, the warmth of her immediately inviting. Ready to fuck again as equals, I grab her hips without waiting for any directive.
“Oh fuck,” she exclaims as I press into her, hitting a singular depth familiar only to this position. Her pussy feels exquisite, her sugary walls smooth and velvety. With long confident strokes, I cajole her into dispensing with dynamics, drowning out any need for cadence and formality with the raw purity of erotic pleasure. She pushes back into my thrusts, our primal selves emerging together for this final crescendo. She glances behind her, her lips curled upwards in a snarl of unbridled lust.
“Oh God, just fuck me,” she cries out.
With an open hand I slap a cheek of her ass, the crimson glaze of my aggression registering immediately.
“Oh fuck… again,” she yells. I don’t hesitate, the satisfying sound of the impact filling the room.
I grab at her with both hands, my hips pumping frantically towards inevitability. Her grunts of carnal fervor mark each time I bottom out, the length of me filling her completely. She buries her face into the bed in preparation for what can only be a thunderous climax. Her girding calls forth that sense of urgent need in the depth of my sack. As her orgasm arrives, she wails fervently into the sheets, the muffled sound still loud enough to fill the room. Freed of my instinct to think only of my lover’s pleasure, I turn all attention to my own satisfaction.
I savor every stroke knowing the likely reality this will be my last chance to fill her—a thrilling culmination of months of illicit passion. She turns her head once more, seemingly wanting to watch as our affair barrels towards a wanton denouement. Locking eyes with her as I push myself into her for a final time. I cry out just as I hit my zenith, the pulse of desire flooding her with my seed in fitting rapture for a shared adventure in forbidden ecstasy, pleasure, and connection…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ivsl45/an_online_affair_part_2_mf