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I’m in bed, waiting for you. Curled up, naked.

It’s a dark night out. Enough cloud-covered moon to distinguish the edges of the windows, but that’s about it. The air cool but not cold; warm in our bed.

I’m asleep when you come in. You crawl behind me, put your arms around me and we spoon further into sleep.

Later I wake up, though. It’s still dark inside and out. I’m on my left side, facing the wall. Your side of the bed, you always tell me. And you’re still behind me, warm like a cat against my back. Your hand at the base of my belly, gently working on me. Touching, playing, stroking.

I move to turn round, to take you in my arms, but you shush me. So I lie still and concentrate on the gentle rhythm of your hand. Both of us can feel my cock hardening in your palm, the length of me stretching out and swelling with blood.

Thinking how the hair catches between your fingers. And if you brought my fingers to your mouth, how they’d already smell and taste of me. Rolling my balls, easing the skin back and forth. Again I try to kiss you but you whisper to lie still.

And you’re pressed the long of my back and legs, but it doesn’t feel enough. There’s the easy scratch of your underwear against my skin, which also turns me on – I wonder if it’s the same black bra and grey lace panties you were wearing earlier? The panties you promised to wrap around my cock. But most of all I’m concentrating on your hand, your hand against me.

Brushing the length of me, just catching the skin enough to make me moan. I’m aware of the smell of my excitement, drowning out the sleepy perfume of you. Hot, salty, aching. Even before you touch me there, we both know the head of my cock is swollen and wet.

casino oyna My breath ragged as a finger smooths through the stickiness, swirls around the glans. The hand comes up to my face. Held just in front of my mouth, so you know that it’s me stretching out my tongue to lick it. Sucking that finger, all of them. Oh, the sweetness.

And back down to grasp me properly. My saliva cool and wet but your touch burning hot. Both of us aware that the real tension is what I’m not doing as much as what you are. You knowing that I long to paw at your body, crush you beneath me, kiss the breath out of your mouth. But this little hand and my cock are the only bridge between us.

Sliding the skin up and down the shaft, pausing each time as it peels agonisingly back from the head. In my mind I’m chewing your nipples, pushing fingers into your arsehole, shoving my cock into your mouth. But this isn’t in my head, it’s all in yours.

Aware that I’m whispering please please please and you shush me again.

Your left hand onto my shoulder now, holding me still. Guiding me. I feel like a musical instrument in your knowing grasp. Playing, played.

Carefully not moving, the way I know you want. The gentle rub of your hips against my buttocks, the pressure of your breasts. Looking out into the shadows, trying to feel whether your panties are damp. Hoping hopelessly that it’ll be you that weakens, rolls onto me.

And still your hand. Not even your fist, just two fingers and your thumb. Slowly, so slowly. We can both feel (and smell) how I’m oozing moisture. Everything slick. In my imagination smears and bubbles and tiny stretched ropes of clear fluid. All for you.

Then your nails scratching down the shaft, canlı casino tugging on my balls. Moaning. I just can’t help it. The darkness, the desperation to be nearer you, the ache to make you know how you’re making me feel.

Taking my balls in your hand. Pressing them, rolling them. Hard enough that I tense against you, my mouth opening. That little noise you made for me earlier, the intake of breath. Me this time, for you.

Your balls, full of come for you. Always that line from that story that comes back to me. Aching, bloated. Hot and creamy sperm backed up with longing.

And now we’re where something you said the other day has always been leading us. A single finger. Tracing lazily round my balls, through the wrinkled skin and the sweatiness. Back up the shaft of my cock. Tracing the cords of sinew, the veins just under the skin. Can you feel how it flicks with my pulse? Almost glued against my belly with desire and all the precome you’ve teased out of me.

Then the head. Exploring the slit, the stretched dome, the wrinkles of my foreskin bunched tight. Sticky, juicy. Dreaming of cunt and tongue, but in thrall to your hand.

Your finger flicks me, exploratively. Once, twice. Your cock, jerking helplessly. I cry out your name and the hand tightens on my shoulder. I need to behave.

Then the stroking again, so intense it hurts. The pad of that finger, easing round and round the head. The nail teasing into the slit as another pearl of moisture forces out.

Everything building uncontrollably and under perfect control. The muscles in my legs and arms twitching, shaking. Desperate to hold you, to fuck you the way you’re fucking me. Cruelly, passionately, lovingly.

Wanting to beg, kaçak casino to order, to threaten you into tipping me over. But knowing that we both need my silence, my compliance, my obedience. My entire body is your cock and all I have to do is come for you.

Because your finger’s swirling round and round the collar and my back is arching and there’s sweat on my forehead.

We both know I’m going to come and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, my eyes staring into the darkness at an imagined knot of frantic limbs and panting mouths and sticky, thrusting genitalia. You haven’t even kissed me and I don’t know what you’re wearing and you could almost be a stranger, bringing me off with your hand.

Suddenly the pressure intensifies and your finger and thumb are squeezing the head of my cock and it’s like I’m jammed up against your darling cervix with all your muscles clamping around me.

And the hand on my shoulder comes onto my face. I’m wetly kissing your palm, but then to my delicious surprise your thumb eases into my mouth.

My cock is jerking and I’m sucking your thumb and the touch of you can’t get any worse and I can feel the sperm building and surging and flooding the length of my cock…

…and you let go.

You let go.

I’m crying out around the thumb in my mouth, with lust and frustration and most of all love. My cock jerks as a long stream of sperm spills onto my belly, runs down onto my hip. Clots of it slide through the head of my cock, I feel each one spatter wetly against my body. And it’s still so intense and so loving, because I’m coming for you and it’s all been the way you wanted it from start to finish. Your come, so much of it and all for you.

Because I’ve come so hard and I’ve hardly come at all and I already want to come again. And most of all I’m hungry and horny and angry and you are SO getting it now, darling. Those panties, at the very least.

It’s my turn.

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