N— was a pretty young Asian woman. The first time we went out, I picked her up after she got off work at the restaurant where I had met her. We had made no particular plans, which suited her just fine. As we drove around looking for something to do, a dance song she liked came on the radio, and she closed her eyes and began dancing dreamily in the bucket seat beside me, her arms in the air above her head, her upper body swaying erotically to the beat. Her sweater-clad breasts, round and relatively large for her very petite frame, thrust outward as she moved. I began to believe this would be a very good first date.
My expectations were confirmed as, shortly afterward, she took my hand and began sensually sucking my fingers into her mouth, running her warm tongue around them as I endeavored to keep the car under control on the turnpike. She then dropped a hand to my crotch, where she massaged my constrained erection, before unbuttoning my jeans, tugging away my jockeys, and proceeding to take me in her sweet mouth as I barreled down the freeway at 60 miles an hour. She kept this up for several minutes, her tongue swirling hotly around my swollen knob, her small hand just below squeezing and pressing my aching balls through my bunched-up jeans, roughly, almost hard enough to hurt. Then she suddenly took my dick all the way down her throat and held it there for a moment, her fingers still working my nuts, before applying a strong suction while drawing her mouth slowly up the length of my erection. She moved very slowly, the pressure almost too much for me to bear as I squirmed and twisted and grunted in my seat, trying desperately to keep the car in my lane.
Finally, after what seemed a small eternity, she reached the head of my cock, and let it pop wetly free from her mouth with an audible smacking sound. My ears were roaring, my hands shaking on the wheel. She smirked up at me, her face still at my lap, and smacked her lips, running her tongue around them slowly while her eyes held mine. Then she looked back to my swollen cock, slowly drawing my shorts back up to cover the straining shaft — or part of it, anyway; the purple head poked over the top of the elastic band, weeping a large tear of frustrated need. She then drew my jeans back into place and began slowly to button them back up, ignoring my grunt of discomfort as the tight fabric closed like a trap over my hard-on. She buttoned the last button with some difficulty, then patted the bulge underneath cheerfully. “There you go,” she said in her lightly accented voice, that made almost everything she said sound like sing-song. “Back where you belong.”
“Oh, N—,” I groaned. “God, I–”
“God you what?” she asked teasingly, the hint of a giggle in her voice. “God you want to go back to your place?” She moved back to her side of the car, leaning back against the door while a slow grin widened her delicate features. “Well why don’t we? Why don’t we go to your place? I mean,” she added, her features slipping to a pretty pout, “I’m sure I can trust you not to do anything I don’t want you to, can’t I? I mean, you will be a gentleman, won’t you?” She gave me a wide-eyed look, like an innocent virgin, over lips that were still swollen from sucking me. “Won’t you?”
“Uh…sure,” I answered uncertainly, not knowing what kind of game she was playing. The hot pulse of my erection in the imprisoning confines of my jeans ensured that I would agree with pretty much anything she said, however.
“Good,” she said, her lips widening again in a satisfied grin. She leaned back more fully against the door, facing me, lifting one hand to lightly caress her sweater-clad breasts before my hungry eyes. “Drive,” she said, her eyes drifting half-closed as she lazily touched herself, one hand drifting over her breasts, the other skimming down to stroke her inner thighs with a feather-light touch. “Drive….”
When we arrived at my apartment, some 25 minutes later, I was still rock-hard, my penis throbbing hot against my lower belly, soaking my shorts with precum. N— had made sure of that. As I drove, she had not touched me again, but had found plenty of other ways to maintain and even heighten my eagerness and need. Mainly, she had kept touching herself, not really masturbating, more like petting herself lightly and sensually. She kept cooing at me in that high, exotic cadence of hers, saying things like, “Oh, that feels good. I feel so good, T—. I’m touching myself and I feel so good. You’d like to touch me, wouldn’t you? But you have to drive. Keep driving and I’ll touch me for you. I don’t need this bra anymore,” she tittered, peeling it out from under her sweater without taking the sweater off, without actually letting me see her tits. She tossed the bra into my lap with one hand while the other snaked beneath the sweater to cup and fondle.
I reached for the bra almost by instinct, but her voice, suddenly sharp, said, “Leave it!” I stopped automatically, already almost hypnotized by her, wanting to do nothing to displease her. She slitted her eyes and began crooning again, both hands now busy under her sweater. “Keep your hands away from your cock. That’s right. Don’t touch your cock. I’ll touch it later, I promise. But you don’t touch yourself.” Her eyes closed, and her breath hissed inward. My hands clenched on the wheel. In my mind, I saw her fingers pinching her nipples to stiff points, still denied to my eyes. “I’m touching myself. It feels so good. I’m wet. Can you smell me? Are we there yet? Oooohhh, you wish we were there, don’t you?”
She kept that up all the way to my place, till I felt like I would lose my mind. Never had I had a first date — hell, ANY date — like this one. When we pulled into the parking lot and I stopped the car, I turned to stare at her a little stupidly, not sure what I should do next, even less sure of what she might do. I must have looked like a deer in headlights. She laughed at me, right in my face, gleefully, delightedly. Then, lowering her eyes to my lap, she slowly extended a hand. I tensed in excitement, thinking she was going to touch my throbbing erection, maybe even open my pants and finish what she had started before.
Instead, oh so delicately, with just her thumb and forefinger, she took her bra by its strap and slid it slowly off my lap. Ridiculously, involuntarily, I arched up against even that slight sensation, seeking any stimulation, any touch against my heated, distended cock. She ignored the movement, just kept sliding the bra toward her and off my lap. Then she plucked it up and, still so very slowly, she threaded it around the back of my neck, while I just stared at her, twitching and gasping in excitement. Suddenly then, she took the other bra strap in her other hand and pulled, yanking my face forward into a deep, feverish, frenzied kiss. I met her desperately, our tongues plunging deep into each other’s mouths. My hands came up of their own accord, sliding beneath the hem of her sweater to seek the round little breasts that had been dancing in my mind’s eye for what seemed as long as I could remember. My questing fingers barely brushed the soft skin of her stomach, though, before she pulled suddenly away, throwing open her door and scrambling out, leaving me blinking in the dome light with my hands clutching only cool night air.
She leaned back in briefly, grinning at me while I gazed back dumbly. “Hurry up, T—. I’m ready. I’m ready for you right now.” She squeezed a dangling breast briefly through her sweater, her mouth forming an O of pleasure. “Better hurry. Better hurry before I lose the mood.” Her giggle was cut off as she slammed the car door with a solid thunk.
I stumbled out of the car, wincing a little as my jeans cut into my swollen cock and full balls in the process. N—‘s bra still dangled ridiculously around my neck, and I pulled it off as I walked over to where she stood waiting a few feet away. Making a futile attempt at coolness, I held it out to her, dangling it by one strap. “I believe this is yours.”
She smiled dreamily at me, and closed one small hand around my own, tightening my grip on the brassiere, while her other hand slid slowly up my chest. “You keep it,” she said. “It’s yours now.” She snuggled up close to my side then, seemingly with real affection, as though we were boyfriend and girlfriend instead of virtual strangers on our first date. All I could feel were her soft, unfettered breasts pressing and flattening against my arm. “Take me inside,” she urged, and gently nudged me to start walking. “Now. Now. Now. Now. Now.”
Eagerly, hopelessly excited, I started toward my building with N— still clinging to my side. Her left arm was around my back, but her right hand wandered aimlessly over the front of my body, neck to chest to stomach to crotch, petting me lightly much as she had done to herself in the car. The whole time, she just kept chanting merrily, “Now, now, now, now,” while I tried to keep putting one foot in front of the other and not hyperventilate.
When we finally stood outside my apartment door, I started to reach into my pocket for the keys, but N— grabbed my hand to stop me. “Wait. Let me.” Reaching across my body, she dug her right hand into the left pocket of my jeans, where I kept my keys. My jeans were tight, but she nevertheless groped around much more than was strictly necessary to extract the keys before wiggling her little hand back out. She giggled as I groaned at the loss of sensation, then held the keys up, dangling them before my eyes — and deliberately dropped them.
I reached out but missed, and the keys hit the floor with a metallic jangle. I bent over to pick them up, and suddenly N— was behind me, her arms reaching around my waist. With one deft move, she yanked open my button-fly jeans and snaked both hands inside my shorts, which were by this point sopping with pre-cum. As I straightened involuntarily, I felt one small hand grope under my tightened balls, while the other wrapped around my overheated cock to squeeze and stroke firmly. The liquid sounds were audible in the quiet hall as her palm immediately slickened with my cock’s eager lubrication.
She stood on tiptoe to begin whispering her chant again, breathily into my ear. “Now. Now. Now. Now. Now.” I came to my senses just enough to realize that, somehow, my keys had ended up in my hand, and I fumbled the door open as her hot little hand slurped and stroked and squeezed.
I all but fell inside, dragging N— along behind me, her arms still encircling my waist. Then N— pulled her hands out of my crotch, leaving me suddenly bereft, and flipped on the light switch with one hand while pushing the door shut behind us with the other. Panting like a marathon runner, I reached for her, but she planted one hand firmly in my chest and pushed me back against the door, with enough force to jar me slightly despite her small size.
“Now don’t move,” she admonished. Mindless in my need, I reached for her again, but she applied more pressure to my chest and said, “I mean it. Do what I say, or you can take me home right now.” The contrast between the sternness of her words and the lilting quality of her lightly accented voice was dizzying.
Defeated, I slumped back against the door. I stood there, gasping with excitement, her bra still dangling by its strap from one hand, my jeans hanging open and my shorts stretched to the bursting point over my pleading erection. N— backed slowly away from me, smiling with obvious delight at the picture I presented. For a long moment, her eyes riveted directly to my distended crotch, her index finger straying into her mouth as my constrained cock pulsed helplessly. Then she turned away from me in a quick, graceful pirouette, and lazily peeled her sweater off over her head as she moved away from me.
N— dropped the sweater to the floor at her side as she continued across the room to my couch, which was placed at an angle facing the door in my small apartment. Once there, she turned to settle gracefully on the edge of it, giving me my first look at her bare breasts. I let out a low groan, and my cock lurched heavily inside my constricting shorts at the sight. Her breasts were rounded and full, surprisingly large for her petite frame, but what stopped the breath in my throat were her nipples. They were the darkest I had ever seen, a rich chocolate brown in color, with big, wide areolas that covered nearly half her breasts. No giant silicone boobs could ever hope to be so perfectly, naturally sexy.
She sat almost primly on the edge of the sofa for a long moment, a slight smile curving her lips, allowing my thirsty eyes to drink their fill. Then she spoke, softly but very clearly, forcing my eyes back to her face. “I want you to get undressed for me now, T—. I want to see you naked.” Her eyes slitted and her voice took on a crooning quality. “I want to see your cock. I want to see how stiff and hard I’ve made it. I want to see how full your balls are. Show me, T—. I want to see. Now. Now.” Hastily, eager to move to the next level of her games, I dropped her bra to the floor and hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts, preparing to yank them down along with my pants. Her soft voice stopped me. “Not so fast. What’s your rush? Do it slowly. Slowly. Teeease me,” she said, drawing the word out, her dark eyes dancing with mischief and amusement at my expense.
Feeling oddly self-conscious, I nonetheless did as she directed. As she watched intently from across the room, I first shrugged slowly out of my jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind me. Then I pulled off my shoes, letting them hit the floor with a thump, followed by my socks. Under her watchful gaze, I slowly pulled my shirt the rest of the way out of my opened jeans, unbuttoned it, and dropped it on top of my jacket. As I moved to push my jeans down, however, her musical voice again stopped me.
“Wait.” I froze immediately, a little surprised to realize my obedience to her had become so automatic. The spell she had woven all evening had somehow subsumed my will completely to hers. My excitement was so overpowering, my desire for her so great, that it was as though my entire world had narrowed to a tunnel with her at the other end of it, a tunnel I could only traverse at her pleasure. And I realized suddenly that I would do anything to earn that pleasure.
She continued. “Lick the fingers of your right hand.” A little uncertainly, I did as she instructed. “That’s it,” she cooed approvingly. “Get them good and wet. Now I want you to wet your nipple with your fingers. That’s it. Just rub it. Slowly, in a circle. Can you feel it tightening? It’s getting hard, isn’t it? Just like a girl’s nipple. Now pinch it. Keep pinching. Harder. Harder. Nod if that hurts. Oh, it does hurt? Pinch a little harder then. Twist it. Twist your little male nipple. Now hold it. Hold it right there. Don’t move. Don’t you move. That pain shoots right to your cock, doesn’t it? I can see it twitching from here. It’s making a big wet spot on your underwear. Push down your jeans with your other hand. Don’t stop pinching that nipple. No, slow down. Keep it slow. Keep teeeasing me. Why are you whimpering? Push those jeans down. Slowly, slowly. Pull on your nipple harder. Oh yes, whimper for me. That’s right. Oh you poor baby. You poor baby. You poor horny baby.”
By this point, my jeans were down around my ankles, leaving my stretched and slickened shorts my only article of clothing. In vivid contrast to my panting, twitching, whimpering state, N— appeared almost regal, boldly nude from the waist up, otherwise still clad in her black stretch pants and low heels. She fell silent then, and her dark eyes scanned my face for long moments, taking in my twisted expression, my eyes hooded, my mouth grimacing in pleasure/pain. She smiled at me, her expression blatantly mocking, before letting her eyes slide down my neck to my chest, where my fingers still gripped and twisted my own nipple. “You can stop that now,” she said carelessly, and I relaxed my fingers gratefully, feeling my nipple tingle as blood returned to it. Her eyes continued their casual slide downward, finally coming to rest directly on my tented shorts. Not taking her eyes from the pulsing, twitching evidence of my arousal, she slowly leaned forward to rest one elbow on her knee. As she did this, those beautiful breasts slowly swung forward to dangle enticingly down from her chest. I whimpered again at the sight.
N— ignored the sound. She rested her chin on her hand, and her index finger again strayed into the side of her mouth as she stared at my bloated crotch. Then her finger left her mouth long enough to crook itself in my direction. “Come here,” she almost whispered. “Come slowly.” Awkwardly, I stamped my way free of my pooled jeans and moved across the room toward her. Her finger returned to her mouth, her eyes remaining riveted to the pleading evidence of my arousal as I moved closer and closer to her.
Finally, I stood directly in front of her where she still leaned forward on the couch, her face directly on a level with my crotch and no more than two or three inches away. She leaned forward even farther then, far enough that a portion of her delicate features was eclipsed by the cotton-encased column of my erection as I looked down at her. Her eyes flicked up at me as I twitched involuntarily. “Don’t move,” she said, and I struggled to keep my muscles rigid as she moved her face all around the front of my shorts, studying my cock in its soft, sopping prison from a variety of angles, never quite touching, though I would swear her eyelashes batted it once or twice.
“It’s so hard,” she said, her musical voice like torturous bells in my head. “So hard. I can see it twitching. It just keeps twitching. It’s like an eager animal in there. Like a puppy that wants to come out to play. And it drools like a puppy. It just keeps drooling and drooling. It’s so excited. Your underwear is so wet I can see the color of your cock right through it. It’s red. It’s so red and hot. I can feel the heat on my face. I can feel the warmth when I bring my lips close — like this — even though I don’t touch you. How long can you wait, T—? How long can I make you wait?” She leaned back slightly then, settling back farther on the couch. I watched the shape of those lovely breasts change again with the straightening of her shoulders.
With just two fingers then, she reached out to brush, oh so lightly, the swelling head of my cock through my shorts. I whined eagerly at the touch, like the puppy she had spoken of before. She dangled the bloated helmet on her fingertips for a moment, then began running them slowly around and around my cockhead, the slickened cotton swirling like molten flame over the agonizingly sensitized flesh. Then she started picking with her nails at the edges of the helmet, sending little sharp jolts through me that twitched my body involuntarily again and again, despite all my efforts to hold still. She continued this new game, catching the rim of my cockhead with a nail then slowly drawing it toward her till it popped free, then repeating the motion as her voice softly taunted, “Does the puppy want to come out? Does the puppy want to play?”
Then N— sat forward again on the couch, reaching out with both hands for the waistband of my shorts. She pinched the elastic strap delicately between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, and began to draw it slowly away from my body. I groaned low in my throat as the constricting pressure of my underwear was finally lifted from my burning, aching cock. The shorts made a slight liquid slurping sound as they pulled away from my soaking crotch. Ropy strands of precum stretched from my lower belly and my cock as N— slowly drew the shorts outward. My pubic hair lay matted and glistening at the base of my slick and swollen shaft. My cock twitched and jerked, and another fat drop of lubrication oozed from its bloated tip.
N— leaned over to look down into my shorts at the slippery mess inside. I hissed sharply through my teeth as her fine black hair brushed over my taut stomach in the process.
“Ooooh, bad puppy,” she murmured, the pleasure and satisfaction in her voice belying the scolding words. Her warm breath fanned over my helplessly weeping cock as she continued. “Bad, bad little puppy. What a messy thing you are. You’ve drooled all over yourself, haven’t you? And now look at you, jumping around and begging for attention. But bad puppies don’t get attention. They don’t get any treats. And good little Japanese girls like me never, ever play with them.” Still holding the shorts out from my body, she angled her head to look up at my stricken face. “Don’t you think he’s bad?” she asked me, a teasing grin dancing on her lips.
My voice was a gasping, wheezing semblance of its former self, but I managed a reply. “He’s…he’s not so bad. He can’t help it. He…he’s just a puppy. Please, N—,” I added, more than ready to beg if necessary.
“Well,” she allowed after a moment. “Maybe you’re right.” Her eyes returned to my crotch level, and she again sat back a little as she at last peeled my soaking shorts down my thighs. She left them suspended just above my knees, and focused her complete attention on my genitals, now fully exposed inches away from her beautiful face. She just stared at them for a long, maddening moment, studying her handiwork with evident satisfaction. The shaft of my glistening cock was an angry red color, while the puffy head had turned a deep purple. It twitched visibly with my every rapid heartbeat, impossibly seeming to pump fuller and fuller of blood at each pulse. My balls felt weighted, and throbbed with a dull ache.
N— ended her silent examination by reaching one fine, delicate hand to the arching length of my cock. I gasped in pleasure at the long-delayed touch, but her fingers merely squeezed once, with purposeful intent, at the fleshy center of my shaft, just at the point where the outward curve of my penis was most pronounced. The immediate result of this maneuver was a renewed welling of slick precum, which N— quickly moved to capture on the tips of two fingers as it flowed from the head of my cock. It formed a large, viscous glob on the ends of her little fingers. Keeping it balanced there, she sat back farther on the couch, and smiled languidly up at me as she brought those slickened fingers to her right breast. “Let’s play a game,” she murmured, as her fingertips began painting her big, dark nipple with my clear cockjuice.
Of course, we were already playing a game, I knew; that much had been maddeningly obvious for some time now. But it was her game, and her rules, and suddenly it seemed as though that was as it should be between men and women. I stood there, awash in the power of her femininity, of her intoxicating sexuality, and I wondered why all women didn’t play with men this way. It was so easy for them. I had been with this tiny Asian tease for only a few hours, but she already owned my mind, my will, my body, my every breath.
And she had done it easily. Effortlessly. Without giving up a single thing to me.
So I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t ask her what the game was. I answered her the only way I could, the way I knew I would answer her every request from that day forward. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, yes, OK.”
“Good boy,” she cooed approvingly, as her fingers continued to swirl wetly around her plump nipple. It swelled outward under her ministrations, and she coated the fleshy little stalk as she spoke, stroking it between thumb and forefinger like a tiny penis. “Or should I say, good puppy.” She giggled at my twitching dick as she moved her hand from her breast, leaving her nipple swollen and glistening. “The game is ‘no hands,'” she told me, as she wiped her fingers off on my couch. “Your hands aren’t allowed to touch me. They might not touch me again tonight. They might not ever touch me again. I haven’t decided. But right now you’re going to lick your cum off my pretty tit. So get your ass on up here, little puppy,” and she leaned back into the sofa cushions, “but remember to keep your paws to yourself.”
Like the eager pooch she had named me, I scrambled up onto the couch and knelt next to her, not even caring that my damp and cooling underwear was still tangled between my knees. I locked my hands together behind my back, so I wouldn’t be tempted to violate her terms, and lowered my mouth to her breast as she settled farther back, angling her body to give me better access.
I took her plump, dark nipple in my mouth, savoring its rubbery stiffness while tasting my own slick precum for the first time. The taste wasn’t unpleasant, only a little salty, but the thought of lapping my own spending off of N—‘s body at her command nevertheless gave me an odd thrill.
I almost lost my precarious balance on the couch once, and had to catch myself with one hand against the back of the sofa, but fortunately I didn’t touch N— with it. I sucked that thick, beautiful brown nipple clean of all my cockjuice, and I felt pride and a measure of satisfaction at N—‘s gentle murmurs of pleasure as I worked.
All too soon, though, I heard her say, “That’s enough,” and she slowly pulled her breast away from my ardent mouth. I moaned with disappointment, but dutifully drew my head back rather than risk her displeasure. I sat back on my heels on the couch, my hands remaining unthinkingly locked behind my back as though bound there. Beneath where my still-stiff cock had dangled was a large stain of precum on the light blue sofa cushion.
“That was very good, T—,” N— said. “I think you must like games. And you know what? Now I’m thinking maybe your bad little puppy deserves a treat after all.” She sat up and batted my cock playfully with her index finger, giggling as it wobbled and swayed heavily. She waited until my low groan of frustrated need subsided before adding:
“I think it’s past puppy’s bedtime — don’t you?”
In my bedroom, N— turned on both bedside lamps and instructed me to lie on my back in the middle of my bed. I did as she said, my erection bobbing eagerly over my belly, where a fresh pool of precum immediately started to form. I barely took my eyes off N—, hypnotized by the way the indirect lighting enhanced the rich tones of her skin and highlighted every curve and hollow of her nude torso. She was exotic, exquisite, beautiful and cruel, and I had never felt such awe of a woman in my life.
She paced slowly around the bed, not speaking, just smirking at me as I lay there panting like a bellows. Then she stopped near the head of the bed and kicked off her shoes. Her dark eyes held mine for a moment, and then she hooked her thumbs in the waist of her black stretch pants and began slowly, slowly to push them down. My breath caught, then sped up even faster as I watched the smooth curve of her lower belly come into view, followed by the slight swell of her narrow hips in her white cotton panties.
Then the pants slipped lower, and the shadow of her pubic bush was revealed. It was thick and dark, pushing out the thin material of her panties in front and escaping in curling wisps around the sides. I groaned heavily at the sight, while she continued to skin the pants down her slim brown legs, then bent, her breasts dangling, to peel them over her feet and off. She straightened again; then, neither delaying nor hurrying, she proceeded to pull the plain white material down, down, slowly exposing her untrimmed bush to my eyes before letting the panties drop smoothly to her ankles where she stepped delicately out of them.
My chest heaved harder and harder, my cock straining toward her as N— at last stood naked before me. Despite her delicate smallness and the rampant extremity of my need, however, she in no way appeared vulnerable in my eyes. In fact, I was almost fearful of her as she stood there, wondering if that lovely body would bring me any satisfaction, or just more teasing and torment.
N— giggled as I goggled at her from my supine position. The fingers of her left hand strayed to that heavy bush, curling tantalizingly through the thick hairs as she taunted me. “Does the little puppy like?”
I nodded frantically. “Yes,” I gasped out. “Yes, the puppy likes very much.”
Laughter tinkled like bells in her singsong voice. “Would the puppy like a treat now?”
“Yes.” Gasp, pant, wheeze. “Yes.”
Her fingers were still combing mesmerizingly through the dark forest between her legs. “Puppies have to beg for their treats.”
Begging came easy by that point. The words flowed forth in a breathless torrent. “Please, N—, please. I’m begging you, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything, anything at all, whatever you want. Just please, please, please.” She let me go on like that, looking a little bored, her eyes straying from my tortured face down to where her slim fingers still absently wound and curled through her dense thatch, over and over.
Finally, her dark eyes returned to my face, and she leaned over to put one small hand firmly over my still-babbling mouth. “Sshhhh,” she said, as her breasts swung before my wildly pleading eyes. Her own eyes, by contrast, had now gone calm and cool and — dare I say it? — inscrutable. “That’s enough,” she added, and gracefully crawled up next to me on the bed.
She turned so that she was facing my feet, then swung one smooth leg over my chest before settling into a position that put her slim brown ass right in my face and my drooling “puppy” bouncing and begging just before her eyes. I inhaled her scent, the rich musk of her pussy mixed with the slightly more pungent tang of that beautiful little ass.
“Let’s play another game, T—,” she breathed. I couldn’t see her face, but I could hear the sly pleasure in her voice. “We’re still playing ‘no hands,’ but let’s play another game too.” As she had before, she squeezed my cock firmly in the center, once, and then I felt her fingertips at the head collecting the precum she had milked. She then brought her ass up slightly, while angling her torso farther down. This had the effect of opening her narrow asscheeks before my eyes, revealing a fine line of hairs marching up the cleft, with her little brown asshole nestled in a shallow valley at the center. As I stared and stared, my breath rasping in my throat, she brought her slickened fingers around to rub them sensually over and around the little fleshy star of her anus, coating it with my cockjuice as she had her nipple earlier.
Her voice floated to me through the sudden roaring of blood in my ears. “I think you’ll like this game. I know I will. The rules are simple: the farther you get your tongue up my ass, the better I play with your puppy.” Her fingers left her now-glistening hole, trailing a thread of precum that broke to fall in a wet diagonal across one asscheek. She began rotating her ass slowly before my face, teasing me with it. “Are you ready?”
She didn’t wait for my answer, but pushed her opened ass back toward my face. My mind was swimming with mingled desire and uncertainty. I had never done this before, never licked a woman’s ass, and the idea of doing so was both thrilling and frightening. But suddenly her butt bumped my face, her anus kissed my lips with my own salty essence, and all my doubts were moot as I found myself lapping, slowly at first and then with increasing eagerness, at N—‘s little crinkled hole.
Somewhat to my surprise, there was no unpleasant taste, in fact no taste at all except my own precum, and only a slight odor that was more sweat than shit. I knew I did like this new game even before I felt her small hands begin touching my now painfully stiff erection, not fisting it, not even stroking it, but just touching it delicately and carelessly, light random touches that inflamed without satisfying. I began mewling mindlessly, the sound muffled as my face burrowed frantically between her asscheeks. My hips lifted, thrusting in an urgent bid for more stimulation, more pressure, but N— compensated smoothly, her hands pulling back to keep the touches light and fleeting. I groaned a deep animal groan, and N— giggled as it vibrated against her sphincter.
“That tickles,” she said. Then she continued, “Your puppy’s being bad again, T—. I think my petting’s getting him too excited. He’s jumping all around and begging. I can’t pet him right if he doesn’t stop doing that. You’d better make him stop.”
Crying aloud with frustration, I forced my arching hips to settle back to the bed. N— made cooing, soothing sounds in response, half praise, half mocking sympathy. Then, as though my obedient restraint had taken our game to the next level, I felt her body stiffen, all her muscles tensing and holding for a long moment; then, with a long smooth exhalation of breath, she let the tension flow away. As she did this, her anus opened like a dusky flower beneath my lips, and my tongue slid easily inside her back passage.
I was startled for a moment, and withdrew my tongue almost instinctively. But then I felt a small hand curl slowly around my cock, holding it firmly this time, and I hastily plunged my tongue back up her butt. Now there was a taste, sharp and acidic, but I ignored it. N— rewarded me by starting a slow, slow pumping of my cock, each firm stroke lasting at least 15 seconds before reversing itself just as slowly. 15 seconds down, 15 seconds up. 15 down, 15 up. The rhythm started my body down the road to orgasm, but it would be a long, long trip at this speed. Desperately, I wormed my tongue farther up her tight chute, tasting the spongy moistness of her rectal walls.
N—‘s own breathing was coming rapidly now, her excitement rising for the first time that night. Her hot little fist pumped my cock faster, and faster still, the strokes slurping loudly now as I drenched us both in a deluge of precum. Her sweetly accented voice began chanting a breathless mantra: “That’s right, that’s right, lick my ass, lick out my ass clean me out get your tongue up there that’s where it belongs that’s what you deserve oh you’re my puppy my bad puppy my greedy dirty little puppy oh yeah taste my ass taste it taste my shit — ”
(and my tongue was extended fully and it wasn’t long enough it wouldn’t go any farther and I wanted more I wanted to taste her bowels and the acid of her belly and so I pushed and I pushed)
— and she pumped me faster and faster, her hand like a liquid piston now, and I felt a huge load of cum boiling in my balls, gathering itself, ready to overflow at last. At the same time, N— shrieked, and her sphincter clamped hard around my tongue, trapping its full length inside the hot depths of her ass as she came. I cried out with her, my senses on overload even before I felt my own orgasm begin —
— and then be cruelly choked off as N— wrapped both hands tight around my pulsating shaft, strangling my orgasm in the midst of its first sweet, fiery pulse. I screamed again, this time in pain and agonized frustration, the sound muffled by her ass’s unyielding grip around my tongue.
As I felt my thwarted orgasm recede in defeat, N—‘s breathing gradually slowed and her clenched sphincter relaxed, allowing my abused tongue to slip free. Her movements languorous in the wake of her powerful orgasm, N—‘s body collapsed slowly to my side, revealing my still-rampant erection to my eyes. One fat glob of milky white cum had oozed past her constricting grip, and I watched it drip thickly to my belly like a single hopeless tear. Beside me, N— was curled in on herself, making small wordless sounds of pleasure and satisfaction, her body twitching with little post-orgasmic jolts as I lay numb and aching beside her.
N— slept in my bed that night, her naked body curled warmly next to mine, her small hand loosely curved around my sticky cock. She slept deeply, a sleep of contentment and satiety. I lay awake all night, the taste of her ass in my mouth, my weary penis half-hard and dripping. Occasionally, N— would murmur sweetly in her sleep, and her hand would squeeze and stroke my frustrated cock briefly, playfully.
I wondered if she was dreaming about puppies.