Watching you come...

"Masturbate for me." My words drift over you, soft and lustful. You can almost hear your own heartbeat. You're wet, immediately.

You know we've been leading up to this, you know what a voyeur I am. There was an unspoken sexual tension between us at the bar when we met, each of us engaging in polite conversation and small talk, but behind the conversation we both knew where it was leading, and we both knew what I wanted of you.

You knew my passions and interests very well: you'd been exploring my archives late at night, touching yourself, masturbating gorgeously to my words, bringing yourself to delightful orgasm time and time again - and you knew what would happen if you met me. You knew what you wanted to happen.

There would be sex, of course. You'd made it very clear that this was what you wanted, what you needed from me. You wanted to be fucked, to be taken. You wanted me to make you come, again and again. And you knew I'd be only too happy to oblige. But you knew, also, that I'd want my own needs satisfied. You knew that I'd expect you to please me. And knowing my pleasures, my tastes, so intimately, you knew that it might begin like this.

"Masturbate for me." The sentence is spoken quietly, softly, my voice calm but firm, a playfully lustful smile on my face. In the bar, the small talk had been quickly discarded, the conversation moving towards the sexual, our words commencing the foreplay, our bodies sending subtle signals to each other, until I spoke with a soft whisper: "Come to my room." You took my hand, and allowed me to lead you upstairs, your heart beating faster, anticipating the pleasures to come.

Until here we are now, sat on the bed, my gaze wandering over your curves, sensual kisses shared, my hand in your hair, asserting my authority, drawing you closer - and you know it's about to begin. You want me to take you, to take my pleasure from you. Each kiss is a surrender, your body melting into mine. You need to be fucked, need to feel my body moving against yours, need my hard cock pulsing deep inside you, need me to come, and to come, and to come... deep inside you... all over you... marking you with my lust.

"Masturbate for me." This is what I need from you. This is how I decide to take you. I see your blush, your nervousness, your feigned reticence. Already half our clothes are scattered around the room. Your hand has already grazed lustfully between my thighs, through my pants. You know I'm erect. You want me inside you. You need to be fucked.

"Please..." you breathe, "not like that... I'm so wet... please fuck me..."

"I want to watch you first..." I reply, softly. "Masturbate for me... I want to watch you come..."

Your heart beats a little faster. To be watched like this, in such an intimate act... you see the smile on my face again. I clearly know this is going to be difficult for you. This, of course, is the whole point. Clearly, I intend to make you my slut.

"I've never... not in front of someone else..."

I merely smile, leaning back on the pillows facing you, watching you, my fingertips drifting over the buttons on my pants, unfastening them one by one.

You watch, your breath quickening, your gaze following my hand as it slips inside my trousers, a sudden pulse from your clit as you see my cock for the first time, emerging from inside my pants, fiercely erect, throbbing in my hand as it glides up and down the length of my penis, stroking myself as I look at you.

"Do it..." I breathe, "touch yourself for me... I want to watch you come..."

Your heart beats faster, my gaze following your fingers as you unbutton your blouse, tugging it slowly off, blushing a little as you unfasten your bra, letting it fall from your shoulders, watching the rhythm of my hand increase as I gaze at your breasts, wanting you, my erection pulsing.

"Couldn't we fuck first...? I just... god please... I need you inside me..."

"Come for me..." I reply softly, small wet sounds coming from my cock as I stroke myself, watching you, my eyes dark with lust. "I want to watch you come... show me what a little slut you are..."

You groan gently, my words still soft but firm, and already you know you'll do as I ask. Your skirt slides down your thighs, your panties tugged down too, dropped on the carpet, nervously discarded. You're naked now, in front of me, naked and wet, and I've still barely touched you.

"Please..." you breathe, but it's the slightest whisper. Already your fingers have fallen between your thighs. Your clit aches for pleasure, aches for your attentions.

You need me to touch you, need my fingers there on your clit, rubbing, stroking, but I'm not to be swayed. First, I want to watch you. I want to watch your body bucking and writhing on the bed, want to see the way you touch yourself. Want to see you surrender to your orgasm, for me. For my pleasure.

And as my hand glides harder along my erection, watching you, needing you, you know that you want this too. You need to come for me. Your body aches for it.

And as you surrender, no longer able to resist... your fingers rubbing, stroking, faster, harder, your thighs wide apart, displaying yourself to me... your cunt dripping its warm wetness onto the bed as I watch... exposed and helpless with lust... only for the briefest moment does it occur to you that you're mine now... my slut... my whore...

and as those words drift through your head... such a slut... masturbating as I watch... such a dirty little whore... it's all you can take... your fingers skid faster... harder... and you surrender completely...

and you come...

ohhh god you come...