She pushed me back on the sofa, so I was at least partially disabled by the softness and depth of the cushions and in so doing she stood. For a moment I was able to see the whole of her; the shirt still unbuttoned and her breasts just hidden by the wrap of the cloth. At her waist a broad, black, silver studded leather belt was pulled around the slimness of her waist, leading to a tight pair of tight black, figure hugging pvc jeans which accentuated every curve of her long, strong, slim legs. Stepping forward she allowed her weight to settle on her knees as she straddled me trapping my legs between hers. My eyes were level with her breasts. She pulled the shirt apart and let it hang loose. “Do you like me?” she whispered, a slight note of harshness in her husky voice. I nodded.
“Do you like me?” she repeated. “Answer me.” She pinched hold of my forearm and began to twist the flesh, not letting go but increasing the pressure. Her other hand was hard on my chest pushed me back on the sofa. She twisted harder. “Well?” she smiled and again twisted.
I did not know what to say. I liked her: the feel of her, the scent of her- her youngness and the combination of her aggressive nature yet vulnerable character. I wanted to say yes to all that and no to the pain. She read my thought precisely. “Do you like pain?” She then bent and gently sucked where she had been twisting the flesh, easing the pain and drawing a redness to the surface of the skin. Pain and pleasure. “I think so.” She smiled as she spoke.
“You will learn to.” She told me, “Slowly and painfully, and with ultimate pleasure. I will show you, when I am ready. Yes, I will show you.” The emphasis was on the ‘I will’ making it a promise and a threat at the same time. She pushed against my chest and stood up, buttoned her shirt and tucked it into her jeans without breaking the eye contact between us. As she finished tucking in her shirt her hand lingered for a moment at the buckle of her belt, and then, fingers splayed and pushing against herself, she slowly traced downwards until they came to the top of her thighs whereupon she moved them inwards resting them against her love temple, rubbing ever so slightly and swaying her hips to increase the sensation. I watched her in a trance like state as she danced and massaged herself, lost in the glory of her own body. I wanted to reach out but knew I was not allowed. Tremors caused her legs to spasm almost imperceptibly as she arched slightly forward to allow greater movement and access, as she began to roll her hips in a rhythmic motion dictated by the body’s desire. When she unbuckled the belt, unbuttoned her trousers and drew down the zip there appeared urgency in her action. I could see her skin which had the tightness and freshness of youth and noticed that beneath the trousers she wore a pair of pvc knickers, black and shiny, reflecting the light.
She paused for a moment with her middle finger pushing down inside her trousers, above the knickers running smoothly back and forth across the slickness of the pvc material. Her left hand drew her belt out of the restraints on her jeans and once loose, she held it before me like a strop. Leaning forward she wrapped the belt around my neck like collar. This she did gently, stroking my chin, then without warning she fed the end of the belt through the buckle and tightened it with a vicious motion pulling my head towards her. She bent down so her face was level with mine then moved aside, her cheek brushing mine and whispered that I was to kiss her, to kiss her like I meant it. As she moved back, her red, full lips were so close and I leant towards them to kiss her, anticipating the softness.
She pulled hard on the belt, tightening it still further around my neck and pulling me down and off the sofa, so my face was level with the top of her thighs. Again, she pulled, again I moved closer. I could smell the warmth of the pvc she wore as my face came close to her crotch.