Page 25 of Flirting with the Stranger

“Maybe one day I’ll surprise you and have nothing on underneath.” I bring a hand up and cup his cheek. My thumb brushes over the light stubble and I imagine what it would feel like between my thighs. Instinctively, I rock my hips against him, wanting to feel it right now.

He closes his eyes and groans, then presses his forehead to mine. “You would do that. You cupcake vixen. Perhaps I should punish you for that.”

“What are you going to do?” I challenge.

“Bring you to the cusp of orgasm, but not let you come.”

I gasp. “You wouldn’t.”

“Keep teasing and you’ll find out.”

I reach down between us and cup his rock-hard cock, giving it a playful squeeze before running my hand up and down his shaft. His eyes pinch shut as if he’s in pain but then his lips part, forming an O. I continue with the motion of gripping, squeezing, and stroking until his hooded eyes meet mine.

“This will definitely get you a punishment.”

He grips my wrist to halt my movements and then lifts my hand to set it on the tabletop, the warmth of my palm contrasting against the cool steel. Then he repeats the motion with my other hand.

“Lean back,” he demands, and I do as he says. With a flick of his wrist, he undoes the snap of my pants and pulls the zipper down. “Now lift yourself up.”

Using all my strength, I lift my butt off the table. Luckily, Van is quick and slides my pants over my hips and drags them down my legs. My heated skin falls to the metal and sends a shiver coursing through my body. Van rises to his feet. His calloused fingertips drag up the side of thighs until his hands are at the top of my ass. With a firm grip, he squeezes the soft flesh before lifting and pulling me forward until I’m resting on the edge.

“There. Right where I want you.”

He runs the pad of his finger down the front of my now damp panties. I rock my hips to get more friction, but it’s useless. He pulls his hand away.

“Now, now. We were going to do this your way, but you didn’t listen, so now we’re doing it my way.”

I nibble on my lower lip in anticipation of what he’s going to do next. He moves his hand back between my legs, rubbing my aching pussy again, but this time using two fingers. Only a thin piece of fabric keeps him from plunging inside of me. He continues to rub up and down while he lowers his head and places a kiss on the swell of my breast. Then he does the same on the other side. I bring a hand up and thread my fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Arching my back, I press my chest toward him. I want to feel more of him. All of him. Everywhere. He continues sucking, nipping, and kissing my breasts all while still rubbing me on the outside of my now soaked panties. I’m ravenous for his touch. Like at any moment, I’m going to combust. Because I haven’t been touched like this since the last time his hands, his lips, his expert tongue were on me. And his tongue is what dreams are made of.

Using one hand, he tugs down the neckline of my camisole, taking the cup of my bra with it, and exposing my pebbled nipple to the cool air. His tongue swirls around the peak before sucking it into his mouth. He bites down, causing me to throw my head back and moan. I grind against his hand, my grip on his hair growing tighter. The buildup has me on the edge of climaxing, when suddenly Van pulls away. A whimper escapes me from the loss.

He stares at me with mischievous eyes. “I told you I’d bring you to the edge and not let you fall.”

“I hate you. If you won’t finish what you started, I will.” I move my hand to the front of my panties, but Van stops me. A deep growl rumbles from his throat.

“Not so fast. I didn’t say I wouldn’t finish.”

I quirk an eyebrow, challenging him.

“I think it’s time I taste some of your frosting.”

Van bends down and hikes one of my legs over his shoulder. He runs his nose along my wet panties. With one hand, he moves them to the side and holds them there while he uses his other hand to spread me open. His tongue darts out and licks up my slit. My breath hitches and a tremble courses through my body. He repeats the motion using the flat of this tongue this time and I moan out his name, which turns into a chant. Like if I keep saying his name, he’ll continue lapping at my pussy. Because I need more. Need him.

“Keep going. Don’t stop.” My words come out in breathy pants.

The tip of his tongue flicks my clit before he dives back in, licking me from bottom to top again. His saliva mixing with my arousal. He finds my opening and tongue fucks me. My hips buck, wanting more of him. More of everything.

“Oh Van. I need you. More. More.”

My pleas don’t go unanswered as his grip on my panties grows tighter until the sound of fabric ripping fills the room. Now with his extra free hand, he shoves a finger into my needy opening. Thrusting in and out while he flicks my clit with his tongue. Every action sending me one step closer to orgasmic bliss. He enters me again with a second finger, stretching me more. My moans and pants echo around the kitchen as Van continues pleasuring me.

I thread my fingers through his hair. My fingers grip the strands, holding him in place. The stubble on his cheeks rubs against my thigh, it’s rough but God it feels good. The slow buildup grows stronger with each passing second. He wraps his lips around my clit and sucks, and that’s my undoing. My entire body vibrates as my orgasm floods through me. My screams of pleasure fill the kitchen. Van’s thrusts become harder and faster as he sucks on my clit. My toes curl as another orgasmic tsunami washes over my entire body and Van continues to lap up every last bit of my arousal.

Finally, my orgasm subsides and Van stands. He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “Fuck. You really do taste as sweet as frosting.”

“Any time you have a sweet tooth, you are more than welcome to do that again.” My chest heaves as I collect my breath.

“Trust me, I’ll take you up on that offer. But right now, I’m not done with you.”

---