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We’re the last two standing. Just about. Staggering out of the town’s one club. Giggling and stumbling. Your arm around my waist. An innocent gesture between friends. I put mine around you. But just feeling you again, my hand on your waist, I harden.

We haven’t spoken about it since that night. A drunken fumble. A mistake. Meaningless. You still have your boyfriend. I’m still with your friend.

You look incredible in that dress. Short, low cut. Loads of people stealing stares in the club. You danced up against me briefly. Last song. Grinding yourself against me. Only briefly. A reminder of that night.

And now we’ll stumble back our separate ways and I’ll masturbate to the memory of how good you look and how hard you’ve got me and how incredible that night was a month ago.

“One more drink?” you ask. But maybe it’s not a question. As we reach my road.

Maybe you squeeze me a little tighter.

“Sure.”

Obviously it’s a mistake and obviously I’m fantasising of a repeat of last time and obviously I’m sober enough to not want it either and as we enter my flat my hand has slipped lower and my fingers are grazing your bum that looks incredible in that dress and obviously I’m hard again.

You collapse on the sofa with a laugh. Stick on the TV. I raid the cupboard. Some fruit liqueur. Two generous glasses.

You’ve stretched out. Taking up most of the sofa. Legs extended. Dress ridden up. Showing off too much thigh. I perch on the other end, hug the armrest.

You flick the channels. We chat. We giggle. We trade looks. Once or twice. As we’re both sipping the foul-tasting alcohol. Looks that say we’re both thinking about last time. That I’m remembering you whispering my name.

Whatever late-night film it is, it shifts to a sex scene. It takes our attention. We watch it in silence. The couple ripping off each other’s clothes. Him throwing her against the wall. I shift, a tent in my jeans. Position my arm over my crotch.

Something pushing against my thigh. Your foot. Brushing my leg. I follow your curves up your leg, your stomach, your breasts, up your neck to your lips, parted. Your eyes locked on the TV.

You take a Göztepe Escort long sip, put down your drink.

Your hand on your stomach. Sliding down to your leg. And back up. Under your dress. You exhale.

This can’t be happening.

You shift. You sigh. I grip the bulge in my jeans. I turn my attention to the TV. Taking all my will not to stroke my erection. This sex scene won’t end. Maybe it should.

I look back to you. Your eyes on me. You bite your lips, and you lean back. Reposition yourself. Your dress slides up. Your hand inside your panties. Very deliberately you give me a smile and turn your head away, give your attention to the cheap erotica and touch yourself. Right in front of me. Right next to me. Your toes stroking my thigh.

I run my fingers along my shaft. Move in my seat. Uncomfortable. I stroke myself again. I’m not watching the TV. I’m only watching you. My hand goes to my zipper. Opens louder than I’d think. You look at me. I freeze.

You nod. Very slightly. With your other hand you pull your dress up a little higher, revealing the edge of your stomach. And you just stare and I’ve never felt sexier. Slowly unzipping my jeans and unbuckling my belt as a beautiful woman watches. My girlfriend, your best friend, all but forgotten. As I pull down my jeans and your hand moves a little faster inside your panties and I slide down my boxers and release my dick.

Your lips part. Arch your back and thrust forward. Against your hand. A sexy, fucking whimper. Just a noise but one I’m sure is begging me to continue. Your boyfriend forgotten too.

I stroke my dick. Long and slow. As you watch. As you touch yourself. I’m desperate for you to pull down those panties, but you clearly have no intention to. You’re in charge. The movie forgotten.

‘Faster,” you whisper.

I do as I’m told. You’re getting louder. Eyes locked on my dick. Occasionally flicking up to meet my eyes. It feels like a show. I’m on show and it’s a show just for me. I’m desperate to cum already but I want this to keep going. Just like this. This is okay. This is less than last time. No regrets.

Suddenly you rock forward. Up onto your knees. İstanbul Escort You turn off the TV and the lights. We’re in darkness and silence. Just like last time. I can just see your outline. Your hands on me. Lean me back against the arm. Straddle my legs and sit on my knee. Shift forward. My bare dick against your panties. The warmth of you is almost enough to make me cum. You don’t move yet. One hand slowly goes to my shoulder. The other grips my waist.

You rock your hips and I thrust up. Grind against you. The moment we left the club this was where I hoped we’d end up. Just your panties separating us. One of my hands on your waist. None of that hesitancy this time. The other to your breast. You moan.

You grab my hair. Pull it hard and bring me forward. Pull me into your chest. My lips against your skin. Fuck. You’re smell. I’d forgotten that. It’s incredible. Can’t stop myself. Lick your skin. The top of your breast. I groan. I kiss your chest.

Nothing more than last time. That’s the rule. This can’t be an escalation. But I’m kissing the top of your breasts and moving lower and kissing your nipple through your dress and gripping your waist tighter and thrusting faster and you’re rocking on me and I moan your name into you.

‘Shit.’ You pull my head back and my eyes have adjusted to the darkness and you’re looking at me with raw heat.

And then I feel your hand on my dick. Not grabbing it or stroking. Fingers grazing it. And then I feel your wetness. Panties pulled aside. Your wet lips. Grinding against my dick.

This is too far. Far too far. But somehow we both know. Both know this is as far as it goes. Too far already but we can’t fuck. Grinding only. Somehow I know we’re on the same wavelength, but fuck… I want you to rock a little higher. Right to my tip. And I want you to misjudge sliding back along the length. I want you to slide down on me and if it’s an accident it doesn’t count.

You lean forward. Rest your forehead on mine. Panting and gasping right into each other’s mouths. Both my hands on your bum. Desperate to get you to thrust up higher and slide down hard.

I can’t take it anymore. I pull you tightly Anadolu Yakası Escort towards me, lift you up and throw you backwards. I climb on top. You wrap your legs around me and hold me in. I slide my dick slow against your pussy. Long and slow. You’re so wet. And I’m so fucking hard. Every thrust getting a little longer. Pulling back a little further. Until my dick is no longer in contact with your pussy and I slide it back against your lips, and the tip of my dick is sliding over your opening. Like that, over and over. You’re staring at me with a look that dares me to enter you with the next thrust and tells me this ends now if I do. Both of us desperate for it, but not wanting to rush this.

I’m so impatient. I want you so much. And I’m losing control. I want you so fucking much.

You must know what I’m thinking. You know I’m close to fucking this up. You throw your weight and roll me over. Straddle me again and you just stop. Your hands on my chest. And you just stare at me. I thrust up and you sit down hard, making me stop. Making me wait for it.

‘Please,’ I whisper.

You smile.

‘Please.’ I say it louder.

You grab my dick. You pull it up, and you slide your pussy lips up its length and you hover just above it. My tip right at your opening. You bite your lip. Maybe you’re waiting for me to beg again. My mouth is dry. I’m just sober enough not to beg.

You let go of my dick and you grind forward over it. Your hands on my shoulders, pulling me up. I’m sitting up and you’re sitting on me. Your hand in my hair pulling me back into your breasts. I’m kissing and licking your skin. Your hand to the top of your dress. You pull it down. Revealing your bra. And you pull that down too. Exposing your nipple. I take in my mouth hungrily. Suck on it and you moan loudly. You say my name.

You hold my head tightly, painfully, as I suck on your nipple and you rocking back and forth and me thrusting as my bare dick grinds against your wet pussy and you’re saying my name and I’m saying yours and I’m grunting and you’re moaning.

And shuddering and juddering, with your pussy against my dick you cum. And with a few more thrusts, so do I. My cum soaking my tee and the front of your dress. And we hold each other tight. Your breasts still in my face. More doused in sweat than last time.

And I know I didn’t enter you. And I know how incredible that will feel. But it feels like we just fucked.

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