The Blue Dress, pt. IV

And so it continues. The weekend away went beautifully, the whole time spent in a universe miles away from everyone and everything you know. You weren't surprised that she bought new and beautiful lingerie to model for you, but you were gratified. She's the kind of girl that doesn't do anything she doesn't want to, so to think that she agonised over what to wear for you means a lot. She's falling for you. And, when you came together for the first time, my God. You finally understand why people talk in cliches when it comes to love. The world really did stop, and nothing else mattered. She was for you, and you for her. She was perfect. Everything is good and easy. You love the nights you spend together, and freely admit the time you spend thinking about her when you're apart. You want to have her more completely in your life. You want her. Not the make up, and the pretty clothes, and the amazing sex - though there's no denying how much you enjoy these things - but her, when she wakes up in the morning, or is talking on the fone to a friend, or vaguely searching for a citation in a book. Just her. Just her perfection. And she wants more, too. You've talked about your lives apart from each other - work, and family, and the friends you don't know (the 'yet' hangs in the air) - and she's curious. She wants to know what you do for a living, and how you do it. She recognises that before she was there, work was a key feature of your life. It still is, of course, but for the first time in a while, you want more. You want that one person you enjoy most in the whole world. She wants, desperately, to be that person for you. She comes to collect you from your office one evening. The winter is cold, and the sky is low and grey. Despite being just after 5, it seems evening is approaching with haste. Everyone else in your office has obviously felt the same way, as they left as soon as they could. You're sitting in an office of blank computer screens and empty chairs, working solidly at your PC when she comes to find you. 'Ah, working hard - it gladdens my soul,' she laughs, kissing your cheek as she looks at the screen you're working on. You've called up several documents as reference for the brief you're preparing, and the jargon and diagrams make no sense to someone without your training. She cocks her head to the side, and closes one eye. 'Nope, still doesn't give me a clue!' She declares cheerfully. 'You either have talents beyond my imagining, or this is actually a screensaver you call up when you need to impress women who drop by your desk.' 'Definitely the latter,' you reply easily, an arm around her waist. 'What are we doing tonite, beautiful?' 'Hmmm,' she ponders, a finger to her cheek in a pose of mock thoughtfulness. 'I thought I'd come hook up with you, and fuck your brains out.' 'Yes! I concur!' You agree enthusiastically, shutting your computer down. But when you go to stand up, it's clear she has a different game in mind. 'No,' she says quietly but firmly, a hand on your shoulder. You know better than to argue - her games are always fun, if you let her take control. 'No,' she repeats, before leaning down to kiss you. Her lips are firm, her tongue teasing. This woman has made you realise that kissing is, in itself, a sexual act, rather than mere foreplay. The feel of her tongue tracing your lips before sliding into you mouth erotic - the only thought in your mind is 'penetration'. Then, to have her explore, running her tongue across your teeth, your tongue, tasting you fully... She believes that an act such as this - literally sharing the breath of another person - is an act much closer to lovemaking that mere sex. Not that she's against sex... While you're kissing, you vaguely note the feel of her fingers on your chest and neck. This is not unusual - she is endlessly affectionate and tactile, usually touching. It's normal to be talking to her, and have her hand on your knee, or arm, or even, rubbing your shoulders. And she is the same with her own body, stroking her arms, rubbing her neck, playing with her hair... She is a woman who craves touch, and communicates with this as much as she uses words. Still, you're surprised when she unknots your tie, and slides it from 'round your neck. She usually likes you to leave it on, and together you've spent many happy evenings with her only in her bra, straddling your lap, holding on to your tie as you shag each other silly. The surprise continues when she pulls away from the kiss, and quickly grabs your hands, pulling them behind your chair, and binding your wrists neatly. She checks you're not in pain, and nothing is being strained - she likes it rough, you both do, but neither carry malice or the desire to hurt one another - before perching on the edge of the desk in front of you. You're not afraid, exactly, but you're not entirely enjoying the sensation of being trapped. Still, she's yet to do anything truly horrible with you, so you're content enough to wait for the moment. . 'Mmmm,' she purrs, drinking in the sight of you, collar undone, and arms bound behind you. 'You're very pretty like this.' You laugh, 'I'm not sure pretty is the word I'd use. You're pretty.' 'Oh darling, flattery will get you everywhere. But you are pretty - exactly where I want you, and nowhere to go...' 'And what will you do with me, now I'm your willing prey?' You ask, genuinely interested to see what delights she plans to offer. 'I want to teach you just how I like it, baby.' Under her dress, a neat, professional, purple wraparound, she is wearing black bikini knickers. On other women they'd be plain, but on her, somehow, they're almost cheeky - the modest covering the raunchy. And to see them, spread tight against her pussy, is certainly a turn on. She is sexy and arousing perched on the edge of your desk, her high heels resting on the arms of your chair, effectively fencing you in further, her dress pulled up around her waist. She's showing off, and you're okay with that. She notices the bulge in your trousers and smiles, gently sliding a patent leather toe across your flies. Casually, she slips a hand between her thighs, and starts rubbing the gusset of her knickers, lightly stroking and teasing herself thru the material. Her pussy is exactly at eye level - you can't fail to watch these movements. She loves it when you watch, and feels beautifully erotic. She knows that she's teasing you both, and she enjoys the sensation. She is using both hands, stroking and squeezing, without yet moving her knickers aside to go skin on skin. Despite this, you're hard, and know that, if you had the opportunity, your hands would be helping hers. She is sighing with small pleasure, squirming around on your desk, but still clothed. However, when she moves her hands, you see her knickers are wet wet wet. Already aroused, your cock starts to throb. 'Do you like to watch, baby?' She asks, noticing you pull against your bonds. 'I prefer to touch,' you reply, leaning forward. She's bound your well - even straining, your mouth is 4 inches away from her pussy. Close enough to smell her arousal, but no way to taste. Grrr. She laughs softly. 'Poor thing, being tortured like this...' 'Yes, actually,' you reply, close to huffing. She laughs again. 'So, it wouldn't help if I took my knickers off, then?' 'If you want...' You try for off-handed. She leans forward, and cups your face with her hand. 'I'll have you beg me before the evening's out, babe...' Then she's back on your desk, hips arching up as she slides her knickers down her thighs, and untangles them from her ankles. She's propping herself up with one hand, spreading her legs wide with her heels back on your chair and, having gently sucked two fingers, begins teasing herself beautifully. Slowly, she runs her fingers across her smoothly waxed lips, just enough to register the sensation. She shivers in pleasure, slowly rocking and arching her hips. She's stroking the inside of her thighs, her lips, circling in ever decreasing movements till she brushing her fingers lightly over her opening. Already wet, she spreads her arousal across the delicate skin. Bringing her fingers to her lips, she tastes herself, making noises of quiet pleasure. Her fingers are between her legs again, and this time, her movements are more insistent. She's teasing her lips, working ever closer to her opening, and then, she's sliding a finger in. She gasps, almost surprised by the feeling. You're hypnotised. To see her do this, from this perfect angle - this is not clinical, or pornographic, but deeply, wholly sensual. She's sliding her finger in deeper and deeper, pace increasing, before adding another. Two fingers, with her thumb teasing her clit. Is it any wonder her hips are arching off the desk, as she fucks herself so well? Her fingers are moving in and out of her wet pussy, teasing and stroking, and she's calling, 'Oh oh oh!' as she comes ever closer to the edge. Frantically, she's shifting forward, her other hand desperately sliding back between her thighs. Three fingers inside herself, the other hand teasing and fondling her clit... This girl's gonna cum hard and fast. A fourth finger is sliding in and out of her dripping pussy, she's pinching her clit and shuddering, bent double at the waist as she seeks your eyes, wordlessly begging you to watch and witness her pleasure, then she's throwing her head back and howling. You can see the shudders running thru her, her pussy tightening around her fingers, her arousal dripping out of her and across your desk. Neither of you is breathing as she recovers. She looks at you, once she's recovered, a smile playing on her lips. Your trousers are so tight around your cock you're in pain. Gently, she unzips your flies, and frees you from your underwear. You don't bother to stifle the moan as she takes you in her hand. You can feel her wetness, and she strokes it along your hard length. Her other hand is at her mouth, so she can lick, and tease, and nibble. She was rite - you'll beg. 'Baby, please,' you choke, overwhelmed by sensation. 'More more more.' With intensity, she slides off your desk to stand between your thighs and kiss you deeply. Then, surely and easily, she turns around, raises her dress above her hips, and impales herself on your hard, waiting cock. You can feel her arse pressing against you as she leans forward, her legs spread wide, and her hands on your thighs. She's gasping, rocking her hips to get you in deeper. These movements are not enough, and you buck against her, too aroused to stop yourself. She takes the hint, and begins sliding up and down you, tightening around you, her head snapping back with each thrust. Sweet God, she is beautiful like this - wanton, and open, and entirely delicious. Her fingers are on her clit again, and she's moving faster, more urgently. She's incoherent in her lust - half finished sentences littered with the repeated words of pleasure: so good, want, harder, need... - but so aroused that you're driven to higher points of pleasure. Her orgasm is building, her thighs tensing, her movements frenzied, and she's begging you now, inviting you to cum with her, and feel so good, and Oh my God, and she's exploding in your lap, groaning with the intensity as you thrust hard and deep into her, cumming inside her with your own shouts of ecstacy. Her movements slow as she rides out your orgasms, waiting for both of you to be sated before collapsing back against your chest. Sleepily, she turns her head to kiss and nibble your neck. 'Did you enjoy that, baby?' She murmurs, concentrating on kissing the pulse in your neck. 'Mmmm, ' you reply, drowsy with pleasure. The idea of taking her home, and curling up around her in bed is tantalising. You want to sleep with her. Sleep with her, no funny business, but just be close enough to feel her heartbeat. 'I love you.' She starts, but continues kissing your neck. Her hands find the knot around your wrists to free you, and you're taking her hand in yours, and as you stroke her fingers, you realise how small it is in your grasp. And yet, she is strong, and beautiful, and clever. And she is yours. 'I love you, too,' she whispers against your neck. 'Now, take me home.'