I grip my glass, hastily. It splashes against the sides, but doesn't spill over. I look back up to you. You are smiling. You are tense, waiting to put your body in motion. But you wait and watch to see what I do.
I slide my right hand along the inside of my thigh. I trail my fingers against my shaved pussy. A light touch, tracing the outline. I am trying to tease you, but it is more likely that I am teasing you.
I push myself to sitting. I finish the rest of my wine in my glass. My other hand is still between my legs.
You get up and kneel beside me. Your fingers brush mine as you take the glass from me. I shiver and smile up at you. You smile back and I look down. I hear the glass clink down onto the table. And then before I can look back up you push me backwards onto the floor.
Shocked, but ready, I start to pull my hand from between my legs. "No," you say sharply. "Are you wet?"
I shake my head. You stare at me until I meet your eyes. Your eyes are dark and I nod.
I relax on the floor and move my legs further apart. Then, sliding my index finger between the lips of my pussy I feel a few drops of moisture begin to gather. I press my finger harder against my body. With my other hand, I press a fingertip against my clit, the dryness scratching a little.
Your hands are on my breasts, massaging them through the thin material of my tanktop. The nipples harden and shrink, like little buds pressing against the material. You hands are warm on my skin as they slide the straps off my shoulders. My shirt meets my skirt in the middle of my body. I am naked to you, still wearing all of my clothing.
I watch as your index finger and thumb grab a nipple and pinch. I moan and twist. I push a finger inside of myself, as I am well lubricated. I tell you so in whispered gasps.
You pull my nipples away from my body. They stretch further then I think possible. And when the pain is exquisite and I am ready to lift myself up off the floor, the nipples slide from your fingers. You repeat the sequence again. First pinching and rolling them between your fingers and then pulling them.
I am moaning. The pain coursing to my pussy. I am dripping from it. I shove two more fingers inside of myself, thrusting them quickly in and out.
My back arches and my body tenses. I let out a scream. The waves of orgasm overcome me. My body convulses from the inside, I can feel it around my fingers still pushed inside my pussy.
I lay on the floor shuddering, suddenly feeling cold. You have removed your hands from me, but are still near. I lift my trembling hands and place my fingers on your lips. I wet your lips with my juices.
You relax backwards against the sofa, watching me. You take a drink from the bottle. When you remove it from you mouth you stare at it for a few moments.
I edge myself up to get another drink and try to figure out what you are planning. There is a smile on your face that worries me. You push me back down and kneel before me. The bottle is between your knees as you forward and put your hands on my knees. You push my legs apart and edge yourself between them to keep them where you place them.
You pick the bottle back up and swirl the liquid inside. I gasp and my body locks up. I want to move away and beg you not to follow through. But I know these actions are pointless, you are going to do it anyway. I want whatever you are going to do to me, the pain and the pleasure.
I watch your face as you drink from the bottle again. You are nearly laughing at me. Instead of running away, as my body tells me I should, I open my legs wider.
I try to relax, staring at the ceiling, focusing on a spot there. The opening of the bottle is cold against my vulva. I tense for a moment. Then you press it slowly inside of me. My body tenses reflexively. I focus on that spot harder and relax again.
You press the bottle deeper. I gasp as the cold glass stretches me. The bottle is quickly warmed by my body and it's fluids. I being to moan as I stretch around the neck.
I start to move my hips, fucking the bottle. You thrust it slightly in and out. You push it deep and then remove it. You take a drink from the bottle. I sit up, hoping for some of the liquid. My mouth is dry from my earlier orgasm. I put on my best begging look as I stare at you.
You press the bottle to my lips and tip it upward. I gulp down the warm liquid, coughing as it burns my throat. A little dribbles down my chin and drips onto my chest. You pull the bottle away and your hand on my chest pushes me downward again.
I lick my lips and taste myself there. I am panting as I move my legs apart. You waste no time pushing the bottle inside of me again. It is hard and unmoving, forcing my body to adjust to it. You use it to fuck me again.
I am begging for more, but you remove the bottle for another drink. "Please fuck me."
You raise your eyebrows.
"Fuck me with the bottle. Fuck me hard."
You smile and drop the bottle between my legs. You push it inside me, this time thrusting it deep in me. You use it to me fuck me, until I am shaking and moaning. I am lifting my hips to meet your thrusts.
You pull the bottle out and press it to my lips. I shake my head, refusing to drink. I am frustrated. I was very close to coming.
You tilt the bottle upward. I open my mouth, trying to catch the wine. I am too late and spills over me. You laugh and take another drink. Your laugh is teasing and makes me swat out at you.
I push myself to sitting and reach for the bottle. I wrap my fingers around it, but you refuse to let go. I continue to pull until you wink at me and let go. I tilt the bottle up, aiming it toward my mouth, but find it is empty and not very enticing.
I feel dizzy, so with a tight grip on the bottle I lay back down. I look up at you, wondering what I should do next and find that you are standing up. You have removed your shirt and are now undoing your belt.
I think about standing but realize I am far too drunk to manage. Instead I press my fingers against my breasts. I massage lightly, feeling the nipples harden.
Your legs press on the inside of mine. You are kneeling between my legs. Your erection is pointing straight towards me. I lift my hips, trying to get my pussy near your cock.
Your fingers grip my nipples with a pinch. You roll them between your fingers roughly. I start to moan and move impotently, begging silently.
I open my eyes and find you are smiling at me while creating a slow torture.
"Please fuck me?" My voice is hoarse and quiet. "What?"
"Fuck me?" It is a question.
"Come on say it." Your voice is loud and commanding.
"Fuck me. Fuck my pussy. Fuck me hard. And deep. And fast. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me." My voice grows louder with each word.
I mumble frustrations to myself, my hips still thrusting toward you.
You adjust yourself so your cock is rubbing against my pussy lips. It teases me for a while, as I grow more frustrated. I try hard not to voice my frustrations, but I cannot help begging silently.
Then you suddenly shove your cock inside of me. And I realize you are as impatient as me, but teasing me and making me beg is often more important than the pleasure of sex. Besides for you, the pleasure will always come. I always want to make you come.
I am moaning. My hands and nails claw at the rug under me.
"You are thrusting deep and hard. But your movements are controlled. "Fuck me faster. Harder. I want to feel you come." I lift my legs and wrap them around you.
I feel your control start to break. You thrust deeper and faster. My back is starting to move against the rug, scraping my skin. Your body presses against mine and I feel the air being squeezed out of my lungs.
I come first, yelling my pleasure. My body becomes limp and I relax downward. I watch you as you fuck me, enjoying the sensations and view. Even the feeling as my back scratches against the rug, I know that I will have a burn there and it will remind me for a week about fucking a wine bottle.
I am a little relieved when I feel your body tense. I feel you shaking a little as you come inside of me. And then you let your body fall beside me. I gasp for air, my body returning to homeostasis. I feel better as I can breathe deeply again. My back aches as I turn over. But I feel like something is missing. I feel like something is missing inside of me.