I shouldn’t have touched her. I shouldn’t have slid my fingers into her tight wet cunt when she was pressed up against the fridge. But I definitely shouldn’t have tasted her. Because now my cock is hard as iron and I have her scent in my nose and her sweet taste on my tongue and nothing to do but fuck my own hand. It’s not like it would be the first time I’ve jerked off thinking about her these past few weeks, but it would be the first time when I know how fucking good the real thing would feel.
And I could have fucked her in my kitchen just now. She didn’t tell me to stop. Her nipples were hard. Her pupils were blown wide. Her breathing kicked up several notches while her skin flushed. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. But I won’t take her until she’s desperate for me. I want her juices running down my fingers before I sink my cock into her silky wet heat. I want Katerina Evanson to beg me to fuck her.
It has been twenty-four torturous hours since I had Kat pinned against the fridge in my kitchen. A single minute hasn’t gone by where I haven’t thought about how good she tastes. She’s avoided me all day, and I know that because she didn’t come for dinner even though Sophia made her favorite lasagna.
So, when I wander into the kitchen at ten again, I’m surprised to see her making tea. She’s wearing one of the t-shirts I bought for her, which shows off her long legs and that little rose tattoo she has on her left ankle.
She turns her head when I walk in, a half-smile playing on her lips before she nurses her tea again. She knew I’d come in here. She wanted me to.
Even through the t-shirt, I can see the curve of her ass and the faint love heart pattern on her panties. Seems like the time for playing is over. If she wants to tease me, then she will learn the consequences.
