The Appetizer – An Erotic Story Of Teasing

An erotic story based on a true woman's fantasy

An erotic story based on a true woman's fantasy

An erotic story of dinner, where the build-up to the main dish is exquisite and excruciating

I put on a light camisole and stare at my reflection in the mirror. He’ll be here any minute from now. I want him to like what he sees when he gets through the door. I rim my lips with nude lipstick and apply some light shimmer to my eyelids. What was I thinking when I told him to come over to mine for a second date?

I dab some perfume behind my ears as the doorbell rings. I imagine him standing on the opposite side of the door, a wicked smile softening the planes of his rugged face.

He hands me a bottle of vintage red wine when I open the door for him and serve him a bright smile, but it’s my body his eyes drink in. Hungrily. My nipples stiffen, pushing against the thin fabric of my camisole.

I step aside to let him enter my sitting room.

“Welcome to my place!”

His arm brushes against my nipple as he moves past me into the room. My body rings like a bell. I look at his face and wonder if the contact had been a mistake.

“Quite a nice place you have here,” he says, his voice smooth and firm.

“Thanks,” I say, motioning him to the couch.

He looks much better than when I first saw him at a conference last week or at our first date a few days ago. I swear I can hear his muscles singing under his tight-fitting black t-shirt and jeans.

“I’m glad you’re here to watch the game with me,” I say.

“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be,” he replied, his eyes caressing every inch of my body. I Imagine his hands taking over from his eyes, lifting my camisole over my head, tugging at my harem pants till it pulls around my ankles… But it is only our second date and I’d like to move slowly.

“Great!”

“Besides, I have a feeling I’ll enjoy this game night immensely,” he says.

“The game’s about to start,” I say, cutting him short. But his eyes don’t stop caressing my body “Let me go to the kitchen and get the pizza I already ordered and some glasses for your wine.”

The fire is raging fully between my legs as I reemerge with the pizza and glasses. But I stamp it out with a determination to hold out. It is still a little too early in the relationship for sex.

He opens the wine and pours into both glasses. I stare as he takes his first sip and licks his lips afterwards. I swallow. I imagine that same tongue on my breasts, travelling lower, his hands parting my legs while his tongue stokes the fire between them. I gulp my drink and clear my throat. He does these things deliberately, I think. But I won’t budge.

I snap into the present and find that he is watching me with a smile.

“Sorry I spaced out a bit,” I say.

“I love the look you had on your face when you spaced out.”

“What look?”

“Your face looked like someone had done this…”

He kisses me. His touch amplifies things. Suddenly the TV is too loud and my body is too hot.

He sucks on my bottom lip as his fingers strum my nipples through my soft camisole. His tongue probes and discovers my mouth, my neck, my earlobes.

I feel my nipples swell under his touch. He bends over my chest and sucks my nipples through the thin fabric. His hand trails a hot path down my body and finds its way under the waistband of my loose-fitting pants. The hand ascends and descends my love mound, then it arrives at my centre and gets to work rubbing my clit. Goosebumps explode all over my body.

“The game has started,” I say, freeing myself from his mouth and hands and turning back to the television.

My body is still on fire but I have to maintain my resolve.

We settle down to watch the match, but his hands resume their tour of my body. He is everywhere. He kneads my breast gently, then his fingers find and tweak my nipples. I am breathless. His hand slips under my waistband again but it doesn’t go further. He just strokes my lower belly till my body whimpers. He lifts my camisole and flicks my nipples with his tongue.

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“Say you want me,” he says, looking into my eyes.

“We should get to know each other better before doing this.”

“But I do know you! I know your body and how it responds to my touch,” he says.

“I know that if I rub your clit like this,” he smiles as his hand teases my throbbing clit, “that you’ll close your eyes and part your lips.”

He pulls down my pants to find me naked, hot and glistening with juices.

He slips his middle finger into my vagina and my walls close around him eagerly, too eagerly. He massages my clit with his tongue as his finger works inside me.

He comes up for air and smiles at me.

“Tell me to stop now and I will,” he says, his finger still fucking me furiously.

“Tell me and I’ll end this and we’ll watch the game like nothing happened.”

Now he has three fingers going in and out of my tight wetness at a mad pace.

“Stop,” I say.

Dazed, he disentangles from my body.

“Get up,” I say without any emotion.

He stands.

I remove his belt and his jeans in one swift move and I have his cock in my mouth before he knows what his happening. I work him with my mouth and hands till he becomes a grunting mess. He lifts me clean off the couch, places me on the carpet and stretches out beside me. I straddle him and bury his rock-hard cock in my vagina. I hold on to his chest and ride for my life.

 

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