I always knew you loved to show off, and that you were a terrible flirt, but I never knew how far you’d take it…

When you tell me, in that mischievous voice of yours, that you want to spice up your internet dating profile with some sexy pictures, and that you’d like me to take them for you, I can hardly wait. I’ve always fancied you, and you’ve always taken advantage of it, leading me on, joking with me, but never quite letting me know whether you felt the same…

I’m a nervous wreck by the day of the shoot, and when you greet me at the door wearing lacy black underwear and stockings, your lips red and inviting, and your hair spilling down over your shoulders, I can’t stifle a gasp.

You giggle at the effect you’re having on me, then turn and walk slowly off into the living room…

All day, you pose for my camera in a selection of sexy outfits. I feel like such a perv, but I can’t stop staring at your body. Every time your eyes meet mine, I can barely breathe. My lust for you must be so obvious, and you’re enjoying my discomfort immensely, flirting outrageously, and striking up sexier and sexier poses, dancing up to me, close enough to feel the warmth of your skin, then stepping away to run your hands up your long legs, or across your stomach, or to pout, or giggle at me. Each time I think I can’t get anymore turned on, you disappear to re-emerge in a skimpier, slinkier outfit. By the end of the shoot, I’m half out of my mind, and very upset when you say we have to stop.

Suddenly, you announce that you’re hot, (YOU’RE hot? All you’re wearing is that little red and white top and knickers! What about me?)

“I’m going to have a shower,” you breathe, “you can join me… as long as you don’t get any ideas.”

Too late! I’ve been having ideas all day, my mind is bursting with them. Your smile tells me that you know all about my ideas, and you wink at me as you turn and head into the shower room.

You ask, as I run the shower, whether I want to undress you… I stammer a, “Yes.”

“How badly do you want to undress me?” you ask, smiling.

“Oh, please, please let me undress you! I’ll do anything!” I’ve lost it completely. You place my hands around you to the back of your top. Your lips are inches from mine..

“Anything? That was a bit rash, you don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for… go on then take it off,” you whisper.

Breathless, I lift your top off, and then, kneeling in front of you, slowly pull down your knickers inch by inch down your long slim legs. I’m kneeling in front of your naked body, looking up at you, and shaking with desire. You smile wickedly.

“Better get undressed if you want to join me.”

You step away from me into the shower, letting the water cascade down over your body. It’s too much. I can’t get my clothes off fast enough and I step in beside you.

The cubicle seems tiny as you press yourself against me. I can’t believe this is happening, but you’re still just playing. You hand me the soap, and taking my hand run it over your body. I swallow hard, and guide the soap over your back, your arms, your neck, and then down to your breasts, your stomach, your thighs.

Your slippery body wriggles against me. Your fingertips touch lightly, teasingly, stroking, circling making me strain towards you, your lips are millimeters from mine, but just out of reach, each time I think I’m going to get more, you step away, giggling at my protests, or running your hands suggestively over your own body as the water pours down over you.

You won’t give me the contact I crave, but you won’t stop making me crave it more and more. You press yourself against me again, and I can feel your breasts against my chest, your hand snaking down my side, across my stomach – this time.. please this time.. please! – the hand moves slowly down.

That’s when you step out of the shower. It’s unbearable but all you do is smile sweetly, and hand me the towel so that I can rub every inch of you slowly dry. I want so much more! I pray that you don’t just leave me so wound up and unsatisfied.

But you don’t. It’s worse than that. You wriggle into my arms, and allow me a long, deep kiss. You can feel how hard I am against your stomach, and you rock your hips against me with just enough pressure to make me beg for more. Suddenly you stop. You lean and whisper in my ear, “I bet you wish I wasn’t such a tease."

You look deep into my eyes, start to slowly move against me again writhing your hips and smiling, enjoying my frustration. The movement gets faster, stronger, then, just as my breathing becomes heavy, you suddenly step back, giggling.

I gasp, “Please…”

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” you say, casually.

My heart jumps. I’ve already resigned myself to doing anything you want and yet I know that the frustration I feel right now is nothing to what you will inflict on me if I follow you.

I can see what you’re doing to me now, but I’m powerless to stop it. You’ll spend the night toying with me, making me more and more desperate, begging for a release that you’ll deny me over and over, just for the fun of it. You’ll make me need it more and more and make me plead for it more and more just because it amuses you to refuse me, deny me, frustrate me. But what can I do? I’m hypnotised by your sly smile, your eyes, and your soft skin, I have to follow you just for the chance that maybe you’ll relent…

The bedroom door closes behind us, and in the silence, I step towards you. I want to touch that naked body, I have to run my fingers over you. I have to have you.

You put your finger up to stop me. “My rules,” you whisper, “we play by my rules or we don’t play… OK?”

“Ok.” What choice do I have? You smile wickedly, and stretch your arms above your head, swaying sensually.

“You love my body.” It’s not a question, but as my eyes follow the slow movement from your slender fingers down your arms, your neck, your soft pale breasts, your waist, your stomach, to the dark triangle between your hips, I have to answer.

“Yes!”

“You want to fuck me.”

“Yes!”

“You want it so badly.”

“I want it so badly.” But you know that already. My cock is bobbing in front of me. Pointing at what it needs. Your eyes fix on it, and you laugh sexily.

“I’d really love to feel you inside me,” you say in that voice, which never quite lets me know if your serious or just playing, but you make no move towards me. Instead, you lie on the bed and your hand strokes its way luxuriously down your body until you run one finger lightly down between your legs. You tense and gasp suddenly. “I’m so sensitive.”

The sight is too much for me.

I’m at your bedside in an instant, standing over you. “Let me, please,” I stammer.

“I could open my legs and let you fuck me now, couldn’t I?” you tease, “wouldn’t that be good? To feel my tight wetness around you?” You push a finger inside yourself, and your head arches back into the pillow.

“Yes,” I say, yearning to touch as your whole body squirms to the motion of your fingers.

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve got time, I’ve got to go out soon,” you giggle again.

My face must be showing my desperation because you add, “But we’ve got time to play a little bit first.” Your hand reaches over, and for the first time, I feel your fingers run up my thigh to my cock. It’s just the lightest touch, but I need it so much it leaves me twitching.

“Come here,” you say softly, and suddenly we’re lying pressed together, kissing hungrily. Your mouth is hot, sometimes closed, planting soft, but full kisses on my lips, my face - sometimes open, breathing into me, our tongues meeting, twisting together.

My mind wants this to continue forever, but it can’t, you make my cock harder with every kiss, and the need in me just gets stronger and stronger.

My hands run up and down your body, stroking the dip of your waist into your hips, the curve of your bottom. My palm finds the small of your back, and strokes up, pulling you closer to me. My hand moves to your perfect breasts, circling, they feel so good. I want to kiss, and lick those nipples, but I just can’t bear to break the eager kisses of your mouth, and besides, your hand is idly playing at the base of my stomach – toying with me, grasping, releasing, caressing, giving me anything but the firm rhythmic strokes I need. It’s driving me wild, but if I move down to your breasts I’ll loose that taunting contact completely, and I can’t stand for it to stop.

Instead, I snake my hand down between your legs, and you part them slightly to accept me. You sigh into my mouth as start to stroke up and down, just as you did. My finger moves deeper into your wetness, then back up to circle your clit. You moan louder. Your mouth is at my ear now, so that you can breath those sex filled sounds right into my brain. It’s unbearable, and your whole body is undulating against mine.

“Please touch me,” I gasp. But your hand is already there, your elegant fingers curling around me, moving slowly but steadily up and down – at last! I strain towards you, pushing myself into your hand, moving against your movement as you grind against my hand.

You’re close, but I’m closer. I fight to hold it back. I want us to cum at the same time– but after what you’ve done to me all day, I need it so badly..

Your sighs are getting more urgent, your movements more frantic. You’re nearly there. We’re nearly there. Your hand is moving faster now. I can feel the orgasm building inside me, taking me over.

“Are you ready to cum?” you whisper breathlessly.

“Yes…”

“Do you want to cum now? Do you want to cum all over me right now?”

“Yes! Yes” I pant.

I’m moments away, tensed against your pumping hand. Suddenly, you let go of me in mid stroke. You push my hand away from you, and sink your own hand down in its place, fingers rippling frantically between your legs. I try to move my hand to give myself the few strokes I desperately need, but your body is in the way pressed against me, writhing. Your orgasm hits you. You’re looking straight into my eyes inches from my face as your mouth stretches into a pink “O”. I can’t tell if the sounds you’re making are sighs or giggles. I can’t tell how much of your ecstasy is real, and how much is put on to torture me, but slowly it subsides, and you hold me close, kissing me slowly and lovingly as your breathing steadies.

Finally, you relax your grip and look down. My aching cock is still straining up. You see it, and smile.

“I’m sorry, that was so cruel of me wasn’t it?”

I don’t reply but my eyes are full of need.

“I really should make you cum, shouldn’t I?”

“Please..” I say each word slowly and clearly. I’m almost crying, my voice loaded with frustration “Please… make… me… cum.”

“OK,” you sing. “I know, I’ll give you one of my specials!”

“What’s that?” Right now just your hand would be great – just my hand – Anything to relieve this need!

“I bet you’ve been dreaming about my mouth ever since you met me.” You open it just wide enough for your pink tongue to touch your lips. You’re right, of course. “I’m going to give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had. And don’t worry, I won’t stop. Whenever you want to cum, just cum! OK?”

You don’t wait for an answer. You just grab my cock, pulling back the foreskin so it’s as tight as a drum, and slowly start to move your mouth down towards it. God! I need this so much, it’s all I can do to not to cum at the sight of your beautiful mouth slowly opening, your eyes looking directly into mine. I can feel your breath now, just inches away…

“Wait. I’ve got a better idea,” you say suddenly

Better? How can any idea be better than your red lips caressing me, that wet, pink mouth? I stare at you, wide eyed as your mouth hovers inches from my twitching, straining cock.

“What?” I manage.

“Well…” You move back up next to me, looking into my eyes again. “What would really turn me on..” Your hand is still in my lap, your fingers making absent minded circles around my now purple head. Your fingers move as though you’re playing with your hair. Round, and round, so gently that you don’t even seem to know you’re doing it, but the feeling is so intense I can barely hear your words. “What would really turn me on is to meet you at the weekend. Then we’d really have time to play. Think what you could do to me then, all those fantasies you’ve got about me.” Your fingers tickle down the underside of my shaft, sending sparks of electricity through my body.

“Ok,” I say, “of course, I’ll meet you.”

“Good, and what I’d really love is to know that all that lust we’ve built up in you. ” As if to underline my lust, your fingers form a loose circle, and start to stroke up and down, just too slowly to get me to where I so desperately need to be. “That, all that cum was still there needing me, aching for me, waiting for me.”

“What do you mean?” Your fingers close around me in a tight fist ready to pump hard, but don’t move.

“I mean I don’t want you to cum,” your hand opens suddenly and you let go of me. I gasp. You can’t stop now! “Not now, not when you get home. I don’t want you to cum at all until I see you again.”

”But I NEED to!” I plead

“My rules, remember? Besides, it would really turn me on,” you giggle. “To think of you all hard and desperate for me all week.” You kiss me lingeringly on the mouth, and put on your best hurt voice. “You do want to turn me on don’t you?”

“Yes” I swallow hard.

“Goody,” you leap to your feet .“Get dressed. Time to go!” You skip out of the room and leave me filled with lust and wondering how I’m going to make it through the week…