A Glorious Tease Ch. 02

You keep your eyes locked on mine, leaning into me just a millimeter at a time. And you know now for sure: you want me to cum before you even touch it. Your clit is loving your absent-minded movements. You're going to cum when I cum. It could be a mess, but you could get cleaned up enough in here, and you just don't care about anything else.

You want it to happen. You'd feel so naughty all day, talking to people with some little mark on your shirt or somewhere, reminding you of breaking me. Reminding you of how you climaxed so powerfully while you broke me.

You are gushing wet and your fingers feel so good and you know you're definitely going to cum again, and it's going to be very big again. Your grip my hip with your left hand, holding yourself steady as you rise slightly so that your tongue is level with the end of me, still three centimeters away, and you pause. I can feel your breath, the tip of your tongue is so close.

You're rubbing your clit faster now, giving me every chance to cum before you touch me. Imagining what it would look like. The head is pointing almost straight up. You imagine seeing the first big movement along the shaft and an enormous, white hot geyser erupting upward. You imagine feeling it touch your hair. A hot splash against your cheek and lips, the taste of it on your tongue, and a slow drip off your chin to land softly on your breast and thigh below.

It thrills you. Just that first burst, and then you will cover me with your mouth, giving me that hot wetness, feeling the rest of me flood into your mouth. You want to see that gratitude, that ecstasy on my face. You will own me. You are so close to cumming again, panting hard. You are one centimeter away, tempted to touch me just ever so lightly on the underside of the head with your tongue, but no, not yet. You can see me losing the battle with my body. One little push from you and I'll be over the edge, and you want your words to do it. You smile as you start to cum again.

"Let go for me. Cum for me. Cum into my mouth. I want you on my tongue... I'm cumming again now... Cum... With... Me..."

And I groan so hard.

And the door handle moves. We both know instantly and react with the speed of athletes. Your hand comes out of your pants and you let yourself fall back to sit on the floor. I grab the door to the stall and fall into the girl's toilet area, pants still around my ankles. The exit opens outward into the gym, so that we're already exposed to the people in the near vicinity if they happen to look this way. I pull the door to the toilet closed behind me with my foot under the handle. Just before I'm out of sight, I see you reach for your shoe like you are sitting to tie the laces.

There is a second of tense silence, and then I hear a man's voice in the doorway. I had practically slammed the door closed, he must have heard that. He says something in Dutch, and I can tell it's a question. You say something back, and even in another language I can hear the sex in your voice. I can hear that you are holding down a second monumental explosion. I know that man out there can hear it too.

Who is it? There are several really good-looking guys in the gym this morning. A couple that I've seen you look at... That guy, whoever he is, he's out there looking down at you, and you are flushed and breathing hard and still shaking a little. And you're so wet, and he's standing there right in front of you just like I was moments before.

I can't see you, and I can't understand the language. I pull up my pants, careful as they pass my swollen dick, still so hard, painfully hard, with one long drip of my stifled release running down its length. My eyes roll back in my head. It's impossibly unfair.

But even in my angst I can feel that the adrenalin rush of almost getting caught has started to work at bringing down my erection. I hear more Dutch. There is a quiet shuffle, and I guess that you have moved to your feet. There are more words from both you and the mystery man, nothing I can interpret. And then there is silence.

I'm waiting to hear some doors open and close again so that I know I can come out of the toilet, but I don't hear anything. I wonder if you are still both in there. But then why are you so quiet now? A minute passes and I still don't hear the door. What is happening? My dick has finally softened to a manageable size as I start to feel jealous and angry, testosterone redirected from a frustrated orgasm.

I tell myself that there is no way that you have just suddenly moved on to someone else right now. Are you so horny from what we've done so far that any man will do? I know it couldn't be, and so I wait for my dick to go all the way down, more minutes. Finally, I open the door, feeling that if you have lost all inhibitions and are now fooling around with someone else out there, at least I could join in and finally feel you on me. An image of you bent low at the waist to take me in your mouth with someone else thrusting into you from behind flashes through my mind and makes my dick jump again, but the room is empty.

Of course it is. I must be insane. I shake my head, "too much internet porn," I say to myself, and turn on the sink to wash my face and hands.

Out in the main room, I can feel a lot of eyes on me, and the ones that are not on me are on you, sitting behind your desk. And you still look on the verge. You look up at me with a non-stop blush. You smile and start to say something, but then nothing really comes out and you look back to some papers on your desk, clearing your throat. People are watching us.

I wonder if I should leave and give this a day to blow over. But I doubt anyone is going to forget what they think might have happened in there. Besides, I've only been at the gym 15 minutes by now: A hello, three kisses, a minute at the sink and then a five-minute orgasm for you. My torture lasted another couple of minutes and then I stood in the woman's toilet for five more.

I'm not going to leave the gym after 15 minutes. I've got my whole workout to do. And besides, looking at you, squirming slightly in your chair, still so obviously close to another massive orgasm, I know this isn't over yet.

****

This piece was more than just a fantasy. It had intention. I was writing about her teasing me, and leaving me frustrated and pent up, but the story itself was me teasing her. I wanted to make her want the orgasm on her face and then not give it. I wanted to make her pant in disbelief when she thought I might turn it into a threesome, and then take that away too. But it could have just made her feel embarrassed for me. And that would have been the worst.

*****

I wasn't online when she responded, and it was late when I did get to check my e-mail again. She had responded about 30 minutes after I had sent it.

Oh my God Mike I love it! I wanted that to end so differently! You told me you weren't sure about writing some of your dirtier ideas, but I love it. Don't hold back. Don't ever hold back. I love your dirty mind.

XXX Emma

*****

I lied awake all night, so excited by her reaction to my second piece of writing. She loved it. And I couldn't help but fall the rest of the way in love with her in return. I wanted her so badly. I wanted to touch her so badly.

*****

The gym was crowded the next morning when I got there, and Emma wasn't at her desk. From the corner of my eye I saw her look to the door as I came in. She was watching another girl do sit-ups and she was holding a clipboard and pen: someone had booked a training appointment with her. And on top of that, one of my colleagues was there and two other people I knew, trapping me into conversations and making me feel very watched. I never got the chance to say more than five words to Emma that morning.

All I could do was look.

She looked amazing.

And every time we made eye contact the mutual lust was magnetic, pulling at us, but there was too much in the way.

I left the gym feeling powerless and bullied by the universe. I was distracted and irritable at work. I had to do something. I was so in love and so infatuated and so blocked. I had to connect with Emma. I emailed her.

That was so hard, not being able to talk with you today. Not being able to be alone together. I would have done anything today. I would have crossed any line today. This morning I cut my fingernails in case I would get the chance to touch you. I shaved my face in case I would get the chance to taste you. I didn't jerk-off last night in case I would get the chance to cum with you. I wanted you so badly today.

XXX Mike

Uncharacteristically, Emma responded almost immediately.

I thought I was the only one overthinking it. I shaved my legs and between extra carefully this morning. I wore my best lingerie. I was frustrated too. I wanted to drag you into the bathroom with me, but I felt like there were so many eyes on us.

I guess it wasn't meant to be.

It was delightful and cruel. Did that last line mean she was bowing to the will of the universe? Was it still over? And lingerie? That killed me. I love lingerie. It drove me nuts thinking that Emma was wearing lingerie under her gym clothes.

I forgot all about my work and emailed her back.

Lingerie? LINGERIE!! You're killing me! I have to know. Was it the same set from the night swimming picture?

She came right back.

No, it's a black set. It's my favorite. I look really good in it.

I was banging my head against my computer screen, creating a noticeable commotion, and some of my colleagues we're looking toward my desk. I knew she was smiling at my email address printed on her screen, sitting at her workstation all that distance away.

I have absolutely no doubt that you look fantastic in it. I have to see it. Can you send me a picture? Take a selfie in the bathroom or something. Please, I need to see that, I'm dying here.

I was begging, and I hated to beg, but I was desperate and so utterly aroused, frustrated.

She didn't come back with anything immediately, and I had to work at a different site in the afternoon. I had to leave my computer.

*****

The longing for Emma was spilling over into everything I did. Every woman I saw was provoking a sexual response from me. I couldn't think straight. And now I was working closely with another woman. I was collecting data from a human subject at the hospital. We used human data as a framework for trying to program artificial intelligence.

I was partnered with this psychologist who specialized in functional magnetic resonance imaging: basically a big machine that you put a person inside of, and it records their brain activity. The psychologist was a very attractive young woman named Janna (pronounced Yah-Nah). Janna and I had worked together several times before. Janna and I had flirted before.

I was sitting there with Janna, in the control room while a volunteer research subject was in the next room, lying in the FMRI machine performing some task, and there was nothing to do but watch the data come in and chat. And Janna was hot and flirtatious. She was blonde and had a large chest, which she showed off as much as she could. I was so horny.

"How much longer are they going to be in there?"

I just wanted to get out of there and go see if Emma had emailed me.

""Twenty-four minutes."

Janna had a stronger accent than Emma. Her large chest was quite impressive on such a slim body. She was all giggles and lip-licking. I was pent up and irritable, and so, so horny. I needed to DO something. And suddenly, some of my need just slipped out.

"That's about enough time for a little make-out session."

I surprised myself even more than I surprised Janna. Excitement flew onto her face with an enormous smile and a hearty laugh. I tried to backtrack.

"Sorry, bad joke, I'm terrible."

Janna knew I was married. She let me call it a joke, but she knew it had been a very bold flirtation. We continued chatting and I tried to distract myself by explaining some of the more boring details of my part on our project. But the excitement never left her face, and as I was talking, she stood up, and went and closed the door to the control room.

I stumbled with what I was saying for a few seconds, and she watched me with amusement, with direct affirmation that there was only one way to interpret what her closing the door meant.

And there was so much excitement on her face.

And I was so fucking, crazy horny I felt like I was going to die.

But I was dying for contact with Emma. That was what got my into this situation, and it was also what got me out of it. Because Janna was not Emma.

I didn't want anything to happen with Janna, I wanted Emma. I resumed talking and shut down the sex vibe. I didn't make eye-contact. I withdrew. I gave all the signals that I was not going to let anything happen, and Janna, disappointed but understanding, let it go.

Maybe she just wanted to see if I would really do something. She never seemed mad at me after, though I've only seen her a couple of times since then. I think she wanted more, and maybe she even felt that more was inevitable, now that I had said what I said. But there was no way. Only Emma would satisfy me.

Only Emma.

*****

I had to work late and when I got home my kids were already in bed, and Christie was reading in the living room. We talked for a bit, but all I wanted to do was check my email. When Christie stretched and gave a yawn, I practically bolted for my home office, calling a goodnight over my shoulder.

And there was an email from Emma. It had been sent just after 9 pm, and now it was almost 11. So she hadn't emailed me back that afternoon. She hadn't taken a selfie at work. I was a little disappointed, but when I opened the e-mail and saw that there was an attachment, my disappointment turned to pure ecstasy. I delayed opening it until I heard Christie in the bathroom upstairs. My dick was already hard. I pulled it out and gave it a squeeze.

I grabbed a tissue. Already stroking slowly.

I clicked on the attachment.

There was black lingerie, laid out on a bed, but nothing else. No Emma. I laughed in spite of myself. The lingerie was lacy and included a garter belt and stockings.

Fuck it, I jerked off looking at her lingerie.

*****

Emma gave me a big, mischievous smile the next morning when I arrived. I smiled back, but when we talked, we were both cautious. Three days ago I had only wanted a kiss. Two days ago we were determined to do nothing. And yesterday I was determined to have everything. We were balancing on the rail of a rollercoaster track, and trying not to look down.

We had only a few sentences for each other when I first arrived, and then I went to begin my work out. I tried to call her over with my eyes but she wasn't coming. Eventually I ran out of water and had to pass her desk on the way to the bathroom. She smiled at me, and I stopped to chat. There was nobody close enough to hear.

"So you liked the second fantasy?"

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms with a big smile.

"Yes."

Nothing more. She was resisting.

"When you say that you wanted it to end differently, which ending did you want?"

It occurred to me that I could ruin the story a little bit if I asked too much about her reaction to it, but I wanted to know so badly if my tease had really worked.

She didn't answer, though she looked thoughtful, like she wanted to answer but couldn't find a response she was happy with.

I tried to make it easier for her.

"I mean, of the three endings that could have happened, which would you have wanted to read the most: In your mouth, before you touched me, or the threesome?"

I was cheapening it by talking about it, but I was desperate to know. I had worked so hard for the reaction, and though I knew she had loved it, I wanted the specifics.

"The first two."

It wasn't much, but she said it. I was a steel rod. I was sitting on the edge of her desk, mostly facing her with my towel in my lap, hiding it. Always hiding it.

I was too aroused.

I felt vulgar. I felt savage, wanting more and more details, as though talking about it explicitly could lessen the aching want to do it.

"Really? Did it make you wet, the thought of my cum in your mouth, and on your face?"

She got really quiet, almost a whisper.

"Yes."

"I got carried away. It was like I was jerking off with my own words.

"Are you wet now, thinking about it? Imagining me stroking my cock right up against your tongue?"

She interrupted me with an awkward, gasping laugh, and a raised hand.

"Stop. Stop it. You're being too aggressive. I feel like you're pushing me."

But I was out of control.

"Come into the bathroom with me right now. I want to lick you right now. I want to eat your pussy until you cum so hard and fill my mouth and cover my face and I'll drink you up..."

She was blushing and panting and her eyes were shut tight with her face turned downward. I thought she was giving in.

"Come now. Come let me lick you until you cum."

But the harder you pushed Emma, the easier it was for her to say no.

"You should leave now."

I was crushed.

"Don't look so disappointed. It's not... I'm not... I still really like you. But go. It's not going to happen, not like this. Go."

I had the feeling that I was going to cry. I never cry. I left. I was only about a third of the way through my work out, but I left. Crushed and ashamed. Horny beyond words. It was the worst time that I had ever spent with Emma.

But Emma didn't want me to feel quite so bad: that night, there was an email from her.

I was so wet when you left. I'm always so wet when you leave.

To answer your question, yes, I do like it. I like it sometimes when a guy cums on my face. And I like it when a guy cums in my mouth, and I do swallow it. But I'm not like some bullshit cumslut character in a gangbang porno. If I'm in the right mood and it's the right guy it turns me on.

You're never going to get anywhere with me if you push too hard like that. But at the same time, it made me so hot and wet the way you lost control. The things you said...

I went into the bathroom after you left. I went into the stall and locked the door. I wanted to feel how wet you made me. I slipped my hand down into my panties. I was soaked.

I leaned back against the wall and rubbed back and forth across my clitoris. I dipped my fingers inside my pussy, imagining they were yours. I imagined you licking me. I imagined you coming up and kissing my tits, kissing my neck, biting my ear. I wanted your cock so bad. I wanted to feel your big hard cock inside me. No more of the teasing, no more of the foreplay. Just you, out of control pounding your cock into me hard and fast. I came imagining you inside me. I gushed. I squirted. I can't believe how much you turn me on.

And you've done it all without even touching me. If this is how good it is now, how would it be, to be together?

XXX Emma.

I read it over repeatedly, masturbating vigorously - too vigorously because I wanted to cum before it started to feel old, and I tore the skin a bit. The symbolism was not lost on me. What I was doing was so self-destructive, I was at war with myself, and I had the battle scars to prove it. But these weren't the first. I've got a lot of battle scars. But these were pretty deep.

I came on the fourth reading, just when she did., spontaneously pulling the tissue away from the end of my dick as I came, letting my semen spill out all over my stomach, as though she was there with me, and there was no reason to be tidy.