Meeting For Lunch at Sam's Cafe

"Thom..." her voice was frail, needy.

My fingers tickled her upper thigh, almost there, gliding ever nearer, she gripped my forearm as I reached the boundary and gasped, desire fluttering in my chest, finding her soft black pubic hair, naked, and dewy with fresh flowing sex.

I failed to keep the tremor of desire from my voice.

"Naughty girl."

"I know," she whispered, biting her bottom lip, closing her eyes as my middle finger explored her ripe flesh. It found her entrance and slipped, welcome like an old friend, within her drenched pussy. "I know I am," she softly repeated.

"How naughty are you?"

"Very," Hanna's grip on my arm increased as my finger disappeared inside her.

"I want you now" I hissed, kissing her urgently, my finger moving ever deeper inside her warm, soft walls, finding the piston rhythm of the moment.

She shook her head against my kiss, breaking away, pulling, forcing my hand away to her thigh.

"Not now."

Her words hit me like a full on slap to the face, I was dumbstruck, stupidly horny, I couldn't believe she wanted to stop.

"You're kidding right?"

She stared me down with a 'don't fuck with me' look on her face.

"Finish dinner," it was an order, breathless but authoritative.

"And then?" I asked, keeping my hand there, my fingers so close to her sex, so damp with her need.

Her dark eyes shone with mischief as she picked up her fork and said what she'd clearly been itching to ever since she'd got home.

"And then I've got a special surprise for you."

She kissed me, the softest, warmest kiss. Her eyes told me the wait would be worthwhile and so I pulled my hand up from under the table reluctantly, trailing damp fingers that lingered on her thigh as long as they could,

"What...?" I started, but she silenced my question with a finger on my lips.

"Don't talk, just eat," and with that she smoothed out her skirt and took a small sip of wine, picking up her fork.

"Eat quickly," she purred, flashing a smile of sheer wicked need.

We ate in silence, the food now strangely tasteless, our only communication occasional teasing sparks of eye contact. My thoughts raced with thoughts of her naked cunt, so wet, so close, and the question that had hung unanswered on my lips. I twigged though, what it was that seemed different about her. She was playing a game and enjoying the power trip, little did I know at the time however, just how good an ace she held.

She finished first, taking her plate out to the kitchen and returning quickly, leaning across the table, pecking me on the lips before taking a sip of wine and sitting down. She watched me finish my plate in silence, the atmosphere thick with sex, and then took it from me, removing it to the kitchen.

She returned, standing in the threshold of the dining room, leaning against the door frame.

"Maybe we should leave the washing up till later."

"Maybe," I replied, rising from my chair.

"Come," she whispered, holding out her hand to me.

We took the narrow stairs in silence, Hanna leading me, her small hand in mine, I looked down as we walked, taking in her bare feet, slender calves, her legs disappearing beneath her skirt. Her footfalls, soft on the bare wooden floor, were drowned out by the beating of my heart, the blood rushing in my ears.

I wanted to take her there and then, on the stairs, lift her skirt and spank her full and naughty behind, take her from behind, fill her, fuck her, hear her cries echoing away, upstairs and downstairs.

But she had her plan, and her hand kept guiding me, pulling me upwards towards her secret, and nothing was worth interrupting that for.

It felt like Christmas day, heading downstairs to see what treats were hidden beneath the tree, except we were heading the opposite way, and my dad wouldn't be there in a red suit. I hoped, oh God I hoped!

She led me through the open door of the bedroom, our shrine to Ikea, and motioned for me to walk past her. I turned, and watched Hanna close the door behind us. She slid the small bolt across, locking us in. We live alone, so it was a purely symbolic gesture, but somehow a powerful one, causing something to clench in my gut. The room was dark, lit only by the soft amber light from one small bedside lamp.

We stepped to each other and she tilted her head up, our mouths meeting, lips brushing, hers toying with mine, her tongue flicking, bridging any tiny gap. She murmured into my mouth.

"We'd better get undressed."

I nodded, reaching for her waist, the bottom of her ribbed white jumper, as a hand came up to my chest, her palm flat, gently pushing me away. She took a step backwards, ever so slightly shaking her head. She took off her glasses, becoming her weaker alter ego, not quite Hanna, and handed them to me. Her hands fell to where mine had clutched just seconds ago, taking hold of her jumper, and holding my gaze, her big eyes full of life as she started to lift.

Her little pot belly exposed, the belly that she hates but I love, her navel, always such a magnet for my tongue, this time though I was forced to watch as the jumper rose beyond it, faint shadows of ribs just visible in the gloom.

I sighed, releasing the tension built up inside as her bare breasts fell softly into view, her fat, perfect handfuls topped with thick pink nipples that love it rough, that always stiffen when bitten and pulled, thriving on sweet torture.

The jumper fell to the floor and she took back her oval glasses, becoming Hanna again as she put them back on. For a long moment she stood before me, top half wonderfully bare except for the thin silver chain that hangs around her neck, a small cross poised above the valley of her breasts.

Her chest rose and fell, deep breathing as if gathering strength. She stepped in closer, and without word began to unbutton my shirt, delicate fingers working calmly, without haste. I stood still, letting her work, knowing it was what she wanted. As I bowed my head, I took in the mild almond scent of her hair.

Her palms moved across the sparse hair of my chest, brushing my nipples and up to my shoulders, pushing the shirt along with them till it began to slip down my arms. She tugged it from them, discarding it atop her jumper.

We stood in silence, just breathing, fingertips millimeters apart, taking each other in. Adjusting to this new pace, to being the one who followed the lead, I waited, aching with anticipation, for Hanna to make the next move.

Her hands crept forward, her fingers slipping between my own, her eyes never leaving mine as she lifted my hands up, guiding them to her soft breasts and placing them so that my palms covered her nipples.

We kissed deeply as my fingers traced lines over the sensitive flesh, her hands covering mine, following their movements, then, gradually guiding with gentle insistence, circling in onto the puffy buds of her nipples, my thumbs and forefingers joining forces to roll, pull and pinch.

Her breath forced past my lips and she nodded, mewling, as I increased the pressure on those little cylinders of pink flesh, squeezing and rolling harder, and harder still until she gasped, a hand sliding to the back of my head, pulling me onto the growing heat of her kiss.

For a second or so, egged on by her rising passion, I pinched her nipples without restraint, feeling her body tensing as her cry filled my mouth, both hands in my hair, gripping me with painful force.

We released each other, stepping back an inch or so. She closed her eyes for a second, sighing visibly and audibly as her hands came up to her nipples, fingertips tentatively exploring their afterglow of pain.

I moved my hands to hold her waist, to caress, to kiss, her eyes snapped open.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, pushing my hands away. There was hardness behind the whisper, and an inner steel that made my hungry cock twitch within my trousers.

Her hands rose again to my chest, sliding slowly down through chest hair to my belly, and lower still to my belt. It clinked as she undid it, her mouth creeping into a half smile as she paused there, holding eye contact and her breath.

With two quick, sharp tugs she yanked my belt free from its loops. Her sudden movements caught me unawares, making me gasp. She dropped the thick leather to the floor, her hands immediately on my fly, and immediately returning to the slow pace of before, gently teasing it open, the zip sliding down, painfully slow, gradually exposing the front of my grey boxer shorts.

Gently, slowly, she tugged on my trousers, encouraging them down my legs, Hanna easing down to a squat, her face level with the bulge in my shorts, with the large, dark wet patch growing where my excitement soaked into cotton.

She tapped a calf, looking up at me.

"Step out."

I did as I was told, one, two, stepping from my bunched trousers. I felt almost like a little child being undressed by his mother, a thought that wasn't helped when she grabbed a hold of my socks, and tugged them free one at a time, my arm stretching to the wall to balance, Hanna grinning up at me as she threw them away. Her grin faded, as did all my thoughts of mothers as her eyes swung back down to my shorts. She leaned forward, her head tilting to the side.

"Ohhh fuck yeah." I hissed, as Hanna's mouth closed around my cotton enclosed shaft, biting, her teeth little points of sharp pleasure. I dropped a hand to the back of her head, resting it there in gentle encouragement, fingers slipping between dark locks.

Her mouth opened slightly, moved lower, and bit down again, much harder. I moaned, pulling her mouth against my shorts. I love the intense touch of teeth on my shaft. My shorts darkened further as her saliva mixed with fresh dribbles of pre-come.

Her hands slid up the outside of my thighs as she continued to nibble and bite down on me, they reached my shorts, fingers finding the waistband.

She pulled her head back and eased my damp shorts down over my cock, it fell free, tapping her nose, leaving a slippery shine. She moved her head from side to side, up and down, my cock twitching and bouncing over her face, soft noises of appreciation coming from her throat, giggles of pleasure. With my shorts down around my ankles she pulled back, opening her mouth wide, before moving forward again, using her lips on the sensitive, swollen plum at the head of my cock, her tongue flicking briefly against taut wet flesh.

I waited in delicious anticipation for the inevitable, the warm, wet embrace of her mouth, but it never came.

"Turn around," her voice was authoritative, tainted with lust. When I hesitated she did it for me, taking hold of my hips and spinning me around, my arse now facing her, my cock briefly swinging metronomic from side to side before coming to rest facing the bed.

She reached for my belt, I heard it clinking as she did something with it behind my back, felt her grab a wrist, yanking it behind me, then the other, the black leather swiftly wrapped around them both, binding them together. My pulse quickened, fluttering in my chest, this was getting interesting.

"What are you doing?" I asked, aroused, and amused by this new development.

She stood up behind me, I felt her hands sliding firmly up my arms and back to my shoulder blades, then she spun me again to face her, my cock yearning for her, reaching out to touch, or be touched.

Hanna looked at me, taking in my stark, vulnerable nakedness, her gaze lingering on my scarlet, angry cock, a faint, twisted smile on her face, she was loving this, I was her toy, loving it too.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

She stepped in to kiss me before I could answer, her lips soft, and soon wet with our saliva. I moaned lightly as her small fingers delicately reached between us and found my dick, ten feather light caresses along my entire length, up and down to my balls, sliding in pre-come, spreading it further with the lightest touch. As she played with me, teasing me, I slowly moved my hips back and forth, trying to fuck her gossamer touch, my moans becoming louder as I longed to lift her skirt and play between her legs, but I was utterly powerless.

Her excitement was audible in the rushing of her hot breath into my mouth, I staggered as she leaned into me, the back of my legs bumping against the bed. Still she pressed into me, her full tits against my chest, my dick leaving a damp trail on her brown skirt, and I fell backwards onto the bed.

She giggled, a malevolent sound, a naughty child, I sat on the edge of the bed, dick rising rock hard from my lap, helpless to do anything but watch as she stood before me, reveling in her power over me, and in the knowledge of her secret.

A hand moved to the waistline of her skirt, the other moved higher, to her perky tits, and played there, rubbing herself, squeezing hard, leaving red marks growing on her pale skin and soft moans hanging in the air.

I watched open mouthed as she continued to toy with her tits, the other hand dropping lower, pressing her skirt up in between her legs, pressing it into her sex and rubbing slowly back and forth, all the while her eyes never leaving mine, and as for me, how could I possibly look elsewhere? She smiled at me, and the smile said everything.

"I fucking love you," I murmured, meaning it utterly. I love her, she's my world, and I love watching her touch herself. Once she tied me up for an hour, an exquisite hour of sweet torture as she did disgustingly exciting things to herself with hands and fingers and a brand new vibrator...

The hand that moved slowly between her legs came back up to her waist, and fiddled with the clasp, releasing it. With both hands she began to lower the skirt over her wide hips, pausing as the top of her jet black pubes came into view, trimmed neat and short with my clippers, but still there, a woman's pussy not a girl's.

She stepped a little closer, I could have touched her if not for my bindings, and I ached for it. When she spoke her words flowed slowly, like warm maple syrup.

"Do you want to see my cunt?"

I nodded slowly.

"Do you want to touch her?"

Again I nodded, salivating at the thought. She stepped closer still, between my knees, her tits within range of my mouth, if I just leaned forward.

"I've been thinking about you all afternoon," her voice was husky and quiet, trembling with want. "I'm very wet."

"I know," I couldn't help but smile.

"That's right," she licked her lips. "You do don't you," her smile radiated filthy thoughts.

She wiggled her skirt over her wide hips, dropping it down her legs and stepping free. Reveling in her nakedness she widened her stance, knowing where my gaze would fall. Her hand followed my hungry eyes, and angled down over her belly.

As I watched, her fingers slid down through her thin thatch, slowly curling back between her parted thighs, three fingers covering her sex.

Open mouthed, and with her eyes almost closed, she released a long breathy moan as her flat fingers moved back and forth over her vibrant, puffy lips. Closing her eyes fully, she parted, then entered herself, a finger disappearing into her heat as she moaned again, pelvis rocking on her hand, her thighs parting ever wider.

Unable to touch the vision before me, unable to take part, I watched, rocking slightly on the bed. Words, rather than actions, spilled from me instead, raw and uncontrolled, mirroring my rising lusts.

"I want to fuck you," I hissed. "I want to fuck your cunt so hard."

"Hmmm," she murmured, her eyes opening, a smile twitching across her face.

She reached for me then, pulling her finger from inside herself, taking my head in both hands, I could smell her excitement, a rich tang of sex on her fingers, my cheek wet and slick with it. She pulled my mouth up to hers and kissed me for a long time, hungrily, her tongue forcing its way deep inside my mouth. My own needs matched hers, our mouths venting, and intensifying that lust, lips crushing wet, biting, risking nips and bruises.

As we kissed she returned her fingers to where they'd just played, from the corner of my eye I could see it moving down there, circular motions, her breath coming in time, rushing into my open mouth in short, angry pants.

She stopped momentarily and roughly pushed my head down to her chest, purring as I opened my hungry mouth to a breast, hanging ripe and plump, begging to be bitten into.

Her fingers found my hair, cradling me there, murmuring, and then gasping as I took a soft pink nipple in my teeth, nibbling, then biting, again taking her a little way beyond simple pleasure. The small bud stiffened in my mouth, held with teeth, then flicked hard with tongue. She moved my head to her other tit, in complete control of her pleasure, and pain.

The hand she held firm between her thighs had stilled for a moment, but it moved again, I heard the slick sounds as she fingered herself deeply, forcefully. More than one finger pushed within and her arm, her shoulder, her whole body shook with the effort of fucking herself. I moved to the very edge of the bed, wanting to be near her, joined with, and in her.

"A little harder honey," she moaned, a tremor flavouring her voice. "Bite me."

My teeth grazed the pure white flesh, dragging across the surface, down to the bumpy pink areola, down to the nipple, taking it, and biting it, slowly increasing the pressure, her fingers hard in my hair, her breathing loud.

I took another bite at it, getting a bigger mouthful, more pale flesh soft between my teeth, the firm nipple lashed by my stiff tongue, and I bit her, just like she asked, a little harder.

Her animal cry filled the room, fist clenching painfully in my hair, pulling me into her breast. The other hand a frenzy between her thighs as I tortured her with my teeth, giving her what she wanted, and maybe a little more, for a brief moment the tables turned, I held the control and Hanna was flotsam lost on the waves.

I released her, and the control, seeing the fire in her eyes before she pulled me hard to her other tit. Again she cried out as my teeth played upon her delicate flesh, a long shuddering moan in my ear that made me ache with lust, and drove me onwards, using my mouth to release all that need trapped inside, unleashing it on her pale breast.

Seconds later she wrenched my head up and we kissed ferociously, passion rising, her hand reaching down, taking my weeping cock in her fist, wanking me hard, yanking painfully on my foreskin, and making me gasp into her open mouth, as she moaned in return, while she forced pleasure from her own body with fast moving fingers.

"I'm gon, gonna..." Hanna's mouth was hard on mine as she came, the final breath bursting from her, filling my lungs as her body shook with the release, her cries fading to a whimper as she staggered back, sinking to her knees, her head low, sweat shining on her brow. She sat there, deep breathing for a little while, a stilled hand clenched between her thighs as she sat mute and lost on the floor.

When she looked up her eyes were half lidded, dreamy, brightening as she looked me in the eye.

"Fuck," she sounded incredulous.

"Good?" I asked, with a wry smile.

She didn't reply, looking down at herself instead, at her shiny wet breasts, and the crescent moon shapes blooming upon her pale flesh.

"Look what you've done to me," her fingertip traced the line of those red marks, circling her nipples, gliding on the thin coat of my saliva.

"Look what you've done," she repeated quietly, almost more to herself than to me, as she caressed her breasts with slow care, softly squeezing the abused flesh.

As her head swung up back towards me, I saw a look on her face that both chilled and thrilled me in equal measure.

She came for me, kneeling between my thighs, pulling my head down to her so we could kiss again, softly at first, until she spoke against my lips.