poeticdesires

http://littlemagonline.com/tag/motown/ the life and musings of a kinky slut

Liar

Wārāseonī ~ erotica ~

“What are you willing to risk?”
“Everything.”
“Liar.”

I sat in his lap, my legs straddling his hips. My eyes stared into his, watching him lie to me.

I ground into his lap, seeing the expression change on his face: arrogance turned into confidence. I felt his hands on my waist, then flung them aside.

“That’s against the rules.”
“Are we playing a game?”
“Always. And right now, you’re losing.”
“What am I trying to win?”
“If you don’t know…”

I stood up from his seat.

“Wait. You, I’m trying to win you.”
“You’re getting closer.”

I stepped away. Opened his legs. Turned around. Sat down, back arched, ass against his crotch. Hands in my hair. Hips moving the way he likes.

In my periphery, I saw his vice gripped hands on the chair.

“I want you to say it.”
“I’ll say anything you want.”
“I know, but will you be lying?”

I leaned back. Rested my head against his face. Unbuttoned my shirt. Swept the fabric aside. He stared at my breasts in their pretty lace bra.

“You like this, don’t you?”
“You can feel I do.”

He wasn’t wrong. I ground his dick harder.

“When you wake up tomorrow, will you kiss me good morning?”
“In more places than one.”
“Will you make me cum?”
“Every time.”
“Will you forget my name when you leave?”
“That’s not possible.”

I stood up. Turned around. Sunk my stiletto into his thigh.

“I said don’t lie.”
“If you think I could ever forget you, you under estimate you’re impact.”

I smirked.

“You want to kiss me.”
“So much.”
“And fuck me.”
“God yes.”
“And?”
“Please, let me. I want to make you cum. And I want you to know I will always come back to you, if you’ll only let me.”

I sucked his cock while he watched. No touching allowed. No cuming either.

I grabbed his shirt and led him to my room. I let him fuck me til the first hints of morning hit my window.

He liked kissing me while he stroked deep and slow. I giggled when he told me to turn over. He fucked me from behind while pulling my hair. “Harder you beautiful bastard,” I screamed a few times as my headboard thumped the wall.

I fucked his face for what seemed like an hour. I came three times with his tongue on my clit. He wanted to go for four, but I pushed him off.

He made coffee. His goodbye kiss tasted bitter with the slightest hint of hazelnut. I shoved my hand into his pants. I wanted to feel his cock one more time before he left. As I stroked him, and he moaned into my ear, I said, “Now prove to me you’re not a liar.”

He left hard and wanting. And, like so many other liars, he never came back.


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