I spent many an evening in the shower imagining that my soft hands that played and probed between my slick swollen lips were his and that the orgasms that the steady flow of the water created would be results of his tongue sucking profusely on my clit. I doubted that he would ever notice me, I was so used to being in the shadow of my girlfriends that everyone seemed to fancy and he wouldn’t even talk to me most days.
The dreams that impaired my sleep at night didn’t help either. They felt so real. Too real. I felt like the dirtiest slut waking up every morning with panties soaked from the imaginary fucking in every position and place that I would get 3 or 4 nights in a week. If this was what he did to me in my dreams what the hell would he do to me in person???
I had to have him. It was a required need. I began to wear provocative tank tops that showed the curve of my heaving breasts, shorts that would entice him into looking directly at the forms of the fabric clinging to the pussy that so badly wanted his touch. I even showed him how flexible I could be during warm ups by stretching my legs apart and gripping my ankles. But yet he ignored me no matter how many times I “accidentally” brushed my leg against his or gripped my hand on those beautiful biceps when he said something funny. Nothing seemed to work.
I was finally on the verge of giving up until I felt the palm of his hand come into contact with my firm ass for the first time.
As much as I protested, the juices from my wetness showed the truth, I wanted nothing more than for him to rip my shorts off and turn my chocolate skin red with his rough hands before slamming himself deep into me right there. I didn’t give a shit if anyone wanted to watch. It added to the turn on. Maybe he began to realise how much he affected me because from that day he wouldn’t stop. I was often cornered on the stairs on the way to the changing rooms and pulled roughly into his defined body, seeming like he was about to kiss me before walking away. I would feel him stand right behind me as I touched my toes so I could feel the head of his penis rub against the cheeks of my ass. He was playing me at my own game and teasing me 10x worse than what I was trying to achieve..
I still remember everything. The smell of him the day he seduced me. The words he whispered in my ear as I tried to pretend that what you were saying wasn’t making me imagine the thought of our bodies sliding all over each other. The outline of his semi erect penis as it brushed against the contours of my stomach.
I had received a simple text message asking for me to wait behind for him after training. I had obliged as I knew he would ask me to help him with his computer problems and also because I was secretly dying to see the inside of the bedroom that he slept in for visual effect of the naughty dreams that I had come to look forward to night after night.
I was right. He did want my help. Silence overtook us on the bus that led to his place. Stuck in a light traffic jam he lent forward and grabbed my already saturated pussy. The shock of his forwardness in such a public place made me gasp but I did not ask him to move his hands. He smirked wildly as he saw the look on my face.
“Tell me you haven’t wanted me to do that?”
Trying my hardest to deny it I shook my head adamantly but my bodily reaction would have shown what a liar I was. I didn’t know where I was or where I was heading, all I could hear was the beating of my heart in my mouth not knowing what would be waiting for me at the end of the road once I crossed his threshold.
To be continued….
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/straight-sex/excitement-pt1