A moment later, my pouting somewhat subsided, MattP and Roughinamorato announced they needed a nipple. Of course, since I was right there and am always happy to be helpful, I volunteered. I quickly disrobed, removing my school Gir shirt, tie and bra, standing in front of them in just my Gir booty shorts.
To show what he wanted to demonstrate, Matt needed small diameter rope. He stepped away in search of the proper chord.
With just Rough and I standing there, I then realized I didn’t have my glasses. I walked back over to the side of the room where we’d spoken just five or ten minutes earlier. They weren’t there.
Turning to Rough, I wondered if he was hiding them.
“Do you have my glasses?” Stepping back towards him, I saw he held his hands behind his back.
“Do I have your glasses?” he asked. And then I saw them… hanging from his shirt. Once again, something was hidden right in front of my face.
Just as the revelation came, Matt re-entered the room. He could not find the rope he wanted, but he had found a twist tie. Matt twisted around one of my nipples and then pulled it towards the other. I asked if I could push them together to make the process easier. They both consented.
With both my nipples now connected, Rough instructed me to put my arms out to the side. I slowly let go, allowing the tie to take the weight, pulling my sensitive flesh, until the twist failed, one wrenching free.
Matt decided they needed another and quickly found a second twist tie. This time Rough connected the twist ties and then applied them to my nipples, again with my assistance. Once more Rough asked me to let go and I did. This time the twist ties stayed, pulling my nipples together.
Success achieved, Matt stepped away; Rough remained.
“What did you ask me earlier?”
“May I kiss you?”
“May I kiss you?”
“May I kiss you?”
“They can’t hear you in the other room.”
“May I kiss you!?”
“I don’t know. Can you?”
With my arms still out to the sides, I slowly leaned into him. I danced my lips close to his. I softly brushed my nose on his. I was but millimeters away.
He smacked me across my face. My head whipped back, but my lips quickly returned. Again I danced near him. Again I played so close to his mouth, our lips so close to touching.
“You can do better than that.”
His words drove. Unhindered from my soft restraint, I moved faster. Tried harder.
I rushed in to kiss him. Slap!
I stepped forward, my lips so close to his. Slap!
I brought my arms up to block him, grab him.
He took hold of my throat and turned me, pushing me backwards even as I continued to urge myself towards his body.
He slammed me against the back wall. My left leg instinctively wrapped around his waist, keeping him close, holding him where he’d put us, trying to pull him into me.
“That’s better,” he said.
My mouth now found his lower lip, just softly touching it. I could feel a hint of stubble.
Releasing, my mouth immediately found his lower lip again, gently caressing it.
I wanted more, so much more. I wanted to ravage his lips with my mouth, for our tongues to dance, to loose my breath in his kiss. But just this, the slightest of touches, the most subtle of kisses, was what he granted me.
In that moment, I was out of breath. I felt the passion bubbled up in our violence. For those brief seconds, I was lost in the sphere of the wall, my body, and his lips.
Letting go, Rough stepped back, picked up my glasses from his shirt, and handed them to me.
“Thank you,” I said. For, well, everything…
He placed his hand on my forehead as I leaned against the wall to regain my composure. Soon I righted my breath.
With me somewhat back to normal, Rough simply said, “Time for lunch.”
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