« Girly things | Home | Recipe: French Canadian Tourtiére (Spiced meat pie) »
Fiction: Watching
By Witchy | October 23, 2007
When you come into the room, stop and stare, I wonder what you’re thinking. Does it surprise you that I’m already “there”, already hot and aching, my body squirming against the stark white sheets?
It wasn’t what you expected, was it, when you walked through the door. 
It wasn’t what you thought you’d see when you came home today. But I couldn’t wait for you. All day, the thought of your body on mine, your fingers doing what mine are doing now, drove me wild with need. I needed your touch, but all I had was my own. And it was enough - just barely enough - until now. Until you came home.
I can tell from the way you shift your hips that your cock is already stirring. Your eyes are hooded, dark, as you lean against the door frame, watching my fingers dance over my skin.
My hand drifts up onto my breast, fingers circle my nipple, tugging, pulling. My nipple hardens, and a shiver dances down my spine. My back arches against the bed, and a groan escapes my parted lips. How I want your fingers there, your hands caressing, kneading, demanding.
My legs fall open, and I watch your eyes shift down, fix on that hot, wet place. My hips thrust upward, my pussy begging you to stroke it.
But instead you wait. And watch. And I can’t wait any longer. My hand leaves my breast, and slips down between my thighs. Lingers over my pussy. I gasp as my clit swells with need.
Does the sheen of wetness on my fingers and between my legs turn you on, make you ache for me? Are you stiff and throbbing, anticipating?
How long, I wonder, will you watch me? Until I collapse against the bed, my legs tangled in the sheets, my body sated and soft?
Your hand drifts over your crotch, and I can see your cock straining against your jeans. Does it want me? How long can it wait before it insists on being released from its prison? My hips thrust upward again, begging you to come closer, cup your hand over my aching cunt.
My heads falls back against the pillow, and my eyes flutter closed. My fingers quicken against my pussy. Knowing you’re watching, wanting, waiting, drives me insane. I can’t wait for you. I can’t stop the throbbing that even now is pushing me over the edge.
And then you’re there, your long fingers closing over mine, pressing my hand harder against my cunt. My body jerks once, twice, three times.
I open my eyes and watch you watch me surrender to the throbbing pulse of my orgasm.
Topics: Erotic Fiction |
2 Responses to “Fiction: Watching”
Comments
You must be logged in to post a comment.
October 24th, 2007 at 2:55 pm
Yep! Gave me a boner! Literary voyeurism!
You know, when you wrote “I gasp as my clit swells with need” I remembered eating a woman, my favorite of past GF’s, and her clit actually swelled between my lips and I just twirled my tongue around it, slowly and gently until she made me stop. Yes … if I get that sensory memory, it was a great story!
October 24th, 2007 at 3:11 pm