The Velvet Sofa

Ice cubes clink against each other in a tall glass as Jim Beam and Sprite blend together. A quick stir and I move into the living room.

You got to town early this morning and don't have to leave until tomorrow afternoon. It's a nice change to the quick visits we usually get and I anticipated a night of cuddling and conversation. You invited a couple of your friends over to watch the game; unfortunately, I threw a temper fit over it and am making amends for behaving like a scorned girlfriend -- not exactly what I am. Our situation is unusual. Neither one of us is looking for serious at the moment; we have fun, generally good conversation and great -- camaraderie.

The sofa you're reclining on was an indulgence. Covered in deep crimson velvet, it's especially conducive to napping -- wide, down-filled cushions, low arms and a squishy back invite snuggling with a book and a blanket, or a choice lover. Your stocking feet rest on the matching ottoman. I swing my leg over and settle in front of you. Your bare chest entices me to hurry, but teasing and tempting you slowly is more entertaining. My eyes drink in the contours of your body. Broad shoulders lead into a deep chest and slight belly, narrowing into lean hips and strong legs. You're a manly specimen and I so enjoy the view. Your whole body screams strength and the package makes my pussy moisten.

Your eyes barely leave the TV screen. Denver is playing Kansas City on Monday Night Football, a major game for the Wild Card slot in the play-offs. You take the drink and thank me absently, trying to look around me as the Broncos make a key play.

I'm wearing a long silk gown in deep turquoise. Lace edges the thigh-high slits along the sides and the demure scoop neckline. You don't even blink as the gown settles between my thighs. It was purchased for a night like this, when a layover offered a chance for a long seduction. The silk slithers over my skin, peaking my nipples.

"Good game?" I ask huskily, pressing my mound into your feet as I gently rub your jean-clad calves.

Flicking a glance in my direction, you simply take a sip; a widening of your eyes tells me you saw the show. Water beads down the side of the glass, dropping to your bare skin. I lean forward to lick it off, reveling in the sensation of your lightly furred chest rough against my tender lips. The contrast made me edgy for other textures on your body.

"Not now. The game is close and I want to catch the end," you push me out of the way gently and return your attention to some inane ad. Concerned you're genuinely angry; I open my mouth to apologize for being such a brat earlier. Instead, I see a gleam in your eye, challenging me to engage your mind, not just your body.

"At least let me entertain myself," I lick along the waistband of your jeans, slipping my tongue just under the band. You shift, as if in rejection, but actually give me better access. I reach for the buttons and slowly undo each one with my lips and teeth. My chin brushes against your growing bulge as they pop free. I slide my hands under your ass and ease the denim down your legs. Leaving your underwear, I exhale hotly across your erection through the cotton material. I tease for several minutes, taking your fabric covered head into my mouth, licking along the legs and nibbling the underside of the shaft. A soft groan seems torn from your throat.

After pulling off your socks and slowly removing your underwear with my mouth, I rearrange your legs and settle myself between your knees. Gently kissing my way from your right knee up your inner thigh, to the crease in your groin, I feel your muscles begin to tremble beneath my lips. Blowing a stream of warm air across the head of your cock, I continue my attentions on the other side. Hair roughened skin against my mouth and tongue brings a rush of moisture to the juncture between my thighs.

Cuddling in closer, the tip of my tongue finds your ball sack and licks gently. The tremble in your muscles increases, but you only take another sip of your drink in acknowledgement. I pull each tender globe into my mouth and suck gently, rolling the loose skin with my lips as I change sides. It's so arousing to feel them draw up against my lips and chin when you're buried deep in my throat. Moving lower, I lick the tender line of skin behind your balls. Usually, this earns me a shudder and expletive, but the clink of ice and the acrid scent of whiskey is my only reward. Damn, you're really going to make me work for your attention -- demanding I use more skill than ever before, to show you something impressive.

"Slide out a little, please" my voice becomes hoarse with arousal.

"Whatever," you comply with a shrug. "Keep your head down though, the game's on."

I embark on an irregular pattern of caresses with my hands and mouth. Wanting you to lose control fuels my exploration, as does the variety of textures I encounter; rough leads to silky and back.

Finally taking your nicely erect shaft in my mouth, I flick my tongue across the head and around the rim. My lips form a perfect seal as I pull you in deeper and swirl the tip of my tongue against the sensitive underside. Velvet and steel fills my mouth as I take you to the back of my throat and rub my tongue along the sides and bottom of your cock.

A slight tinkle of ice against glass is my only cue you're enjoying what I'm doing. Taking inspiration, I sip from your glass and suck a cube into my mouth. Rubbing it against my inner lip, I return to your erection.

You gasp at the chill as I press the cube against the sweet spot where the head and shaft meet. Swirling the cube around your prick, I smile to myself as the rattle in the glass becomes more pronounced. I so enjoy the silky feel of you against my tongue as the helmet presses against the roof of my mouth.

The cube melts and my mouth warms up. I resume licking your hard on. Quick, light flicks and long firm strokes with my whole tongue keep you right on the edge. Your breathing quickens and the tremble in your legs increases to a constant vibration.

I stand up and walk away. Your groan of frustration pleases me. I hope the ballgame has lost all appeal as I move into the bathroom. Warming a washcloth under the tap and returning to the kitchen for more ice and a bowl with warm water, I head back to settle between your legs. You're touching yourself when I enter the living room.

The crimson velvet forms a nice contrast against your fair skin and short mahogany hair. I'm already aroused from trying to gain your attention, but it increases further just watching you stroke your prick. I want you inside me, but that can wait for a while.

Picking up a piece of ice, I roll it across the head of your prick as you continue to stroke yourself. The freezing temperature makes your hips jerk against me. Pushing your hand out of the way, I roll the cube down the top of your shaft with one finger. Back up and down again, I watch your beautiful brown eyes go glassy. The crowd roars in the background, but your eyes never leave your cock and the ice. Slowly, I slide the cube sown both sides and over the head again before slipping along the underside of your dick. I make sure you don't feel the warmth of my hand as I press the ice against your balls.

Dropping the cube back in the bowl at my side, I pick up the moist, warm washcloth and drape it over your cock.

"Oh, shit," you moan. "You're gonna kill me."

I wrap the rough material around you and squeeze firmly with my thumb rubbing along the bottom. I begin to stroke you with the cloth, wondering what the terry material feels like to you. Your eyes drift closed as you ease down a little farther.

Frosty contact makes you jerk upright, abs flexing at the unexpected chill.

Repeating the pattern I created earlier, I massage more ice over your magnificent erection. Turning for the cloth again, I suddenly find myself scrambling over your legs as you haul me up and push me face down into the velvet cushions.

"Let's see how you like it," you growl, voice deepened in lust.

Dimly, I register the score -- the Broncos are ahead by a touchdown and field goal. It sure doesn't matter when I feel the skirt of my gown pushed up to my waist, my legs spread and your icy cock fills me up.

I gasp at how cold you are. My pussy has been hot and wet all night and the contrast is electrifying, making my lower belly tighten with an imminent orgasm. I squirm against you.

"Lay still! It's my turn to torment you."

A few slow, steady thrusts and you've warmed up. I feel my orgasm building higher.

"Harder," I beg.

You pull out abruptly and I moan in protest.

"You thought I was going to allow you to cum so quick after teasing me and your bad behavior earlier?" You laugh at my frustration, a purely masculine sound, acknowledging you know how close I am.

I move to roll over, but you press me back down. I'm so hot and very wet in anticipation. I just want you inside me -- there's been enough foreplay to my way of thinking.

"Be still," you order as you get off the sofa. "If you move, I'll go to bed and leave you like this."

It's harder than I ever imagined lying still. I know you mean what you say; you are the consummate tease, but I know my orgasm will be amazing when you finally let me cum. I want yours to be as earth-shaking.

We must have had similar ideas for tonight. I hear you rummaging in the freezer, opening drawers, and rustling some sort of package. Fear of the unknown spikes my arousal and I smell the musky heat from my pussy.

Agonizing minutes later, you settle between my legs.

"Up on all fours," a growl returns to your voice. The command is gentle, but allows no protest. I'm not sure my body will respond to my commands; it's so in tune to the heat from yours, I'm limp

"Please, just fuck me!" I plead.

"Listen to me, now!"

I move into position and you slide between my knees on your back. I look down to see your head directly under my slit. The angle is so intensely erotic, I nearly lose it. My hips rotate in reaction.

"You'll be just as still as you can be if you want to cum. I'm done with your games," your voice is brisk. I suddenly feel like a naughty child. Then your tongue flicks across my clit and you press an icy dildo into my cunt.

The conflicting sensations of heat and cold make me gasp. My whole body trembles with the need to orgasm.

You seem to sense how close I am because you pull your lips from my button and stop moving the gel-filled dick in and out.

A few moments of recovery are all you allow, but it's enough to bring me down from the edge.

You turn on the vibrator and lick along the outer lips of my pussy. Tiny little flicks of your tongue, but the contact is intense. Slowly you fuck me with the toy. It's like being screwed with an icicle. I giggle a little at the realization we'd both planned such similar torments, then I'm beyond thought. You're sucking my clit, teasing with lips, teeth and tongue while you pump the frozen dildo in and out of my hungry pussy. Heat, cold and pressure overwhelm me and I have to fight to be still. Then I can't fight anymore. My body jerks upright as a powerful orgasm rocks through me. I lose sight and all sensation while my body convulses against you. Tumbling forward, I can't even catch myself as I collapse into the sofa's downy embrace.

As though I weighed nothing, you flip me over and drive your turgid prick into my spasming pussy. It seems you've finally lost control as you thrust as hard as you can, pushing my legs together to brace against your heaving shoulders, tightening my muscles around you.

Groaning, you cum deep inside me and collapse against the back of the sofa. It cradles us in plush warmth as we drift down from our mutual release. I eagerly anticipate a repeat performance. Your powers of recovery are phenomenal. I'm beginning to wonder what you may have in mind for Round Two as we drift off to sleep.