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Today My Name is Caprice

Date: 10/25/2017, Categories: Exhibitionism, Author: Verbal, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

Tracing the boundary with my index finger. I am rubbing my cock through my pants, pet. It is jerking and quivering. That makes me wet. Snap the elastic of your stockings against your skin. He sees her flinch. Her face is red, her mouth in a pout, slightly open, tongue just barely visible. Her nipples are hard pebbles under her bra and barely buttoned blouse. Her eyes are glazed. She would be a wet dream of a fantasy to any stranger who might be looking at her. He scans the room, sees a young man, much younger than the two of them, transfixed by her. He wonders how long this man has been watching her. It occurs to him to tell her she is being watched, by someone besides him. He does not. Further, pet. I am tracing my finger along the bare skin above my stockings. I am taking an indirect route, curving and circling, teasing. I know how you love to tease. My pussy is freshly shaved, and wet, and tingling. Your pussy lips are opening, aren’t they? Yes. Like a flower. For you dear. It may be my finger, but you are the one making me wet. You are the one who makes my pussy quiver. I’m purring, dear. Such a lovely girl. Such a sweet pet. Thank you, Sir. Further, pet. My finger is settling on the edge of my lips. Mmm. I am tracing my wet slit. Up, then down. Then up. Then down. My finger is so wet. Lick it. Taste it. She does as she is told. She brings her finger to her lips, presses it against them, as if whispering, “Shhh.” She traces her lips with her finger the way she traced the ... lips of her pussy, gliding along the skin, brushing it, barely touching it. She slides it into her mouth, sucking at it. Her eyes narrow as she watches him watch her. She slides it back out, then touches the tip of her finger with the tip of her tongue. She lowers her hand once again below the surface of the table. He watches her, picturing the slow luscious path it is taking. He types no commands, he is content to watch her. She pins him to his chair with a look of pure lust, then she closes her eyes and shudders. He envisions her finger sliding into the moist wonder of her pussy. Working it in with deliberate slowness, inch by intoxicating inch. Deeper. Deeper. She types with one hand. You’re hard, aren’t you? Hard and touching your cock. Stroking it. Stroking it for your pet. Yes. May I cum for you, Sir? Yes, pet. Are you going to cum for me, Sir? No. You know the rules. She is by now slumping into her chair. One leg is now stretching out beneath the tablecloth so he can tell her legs are spread. She closes her eyes. She opens her mouth. She licks her lip and bites it. Her breath is ragged, her chest is noticeably heaving. He notices movement in the periphery of his vision, and sees the young man who was watching her push back his chair and stand, his eyes locked toward her. His pulse begins to race. As the man begins to walk toward her, he begins to type. Pet. I believe you about to have some company. A small electronic blip from her laptop rouses her eyes open. She reads ...