True Sex Stories: Date Night

I feel your hands press against my hips and you press me against you. A gasp escapes my lips...You brush my hair away from my neck and kiss and lick in a way that makes my knees quake a little.

We've decided to do date night, and while I was initially excited about it, I've become a little less eager. Maybe you can restore some of that energy? I've certainly dressed for a cozy date night. I'm wearing a scooped neck shirt that shows a generous amount of cleavage, a pleated skirt, and fuck-me heels that I hope you notice. When you come in, you chastely kiss my cheek and say that the pot of tomato sauce on the stove smells great. I hate you for not grabbing me and fucking me right there and my cunt throbs in agony underneath my thin panties.

I've put in a full day at work and now I'm continuing dinner for the both of us. I'm hot and irritated. The sounds of the TV on behind me don't help matters. I stir the sauce and clang the lid down on the pot as hard as I can. The sound makes you look over. I ignore you. I'm far too cross. Maybe you notice this, and maybe that's why you come over.

I feel your hands press against my hips and you press me against you. A gasp escapes my lips. "Hey!" I say, turning my neck to try to look at you. You brush my hair away from my neck and kiss and lick in a way that makes my knees quake a little. One of your hands moves up from my hip to my breast, cupping it and squeezing it in your broad hand. The other hand relentlessly pulls my ass against you. I can feel you stiffening through your jeans as you grind into my ass.

"What's wrong?" you ask. I'm having trouble forming cogent thoughts, especially when you bite on my earlobe and I feel and hear your hot breath against my ear and neck.

"Just stressed." I mumble. Two of your fingers begin to stroke and twist my nipple.

"Let me help." You turn me around, taking me by the hips and I can see the grin on your face. This isn't an entirely selfless venture for you, but I'm not complaining. You effortlessly move me and push me against the fridge, pulling my breasts up through the low neck of my shirt and propping them up on the shelf my collar forms. Your mouth moves down to my nipple. Your breath is warm and your teeth nip and tease around the nipple. They're so hard they ache. You take your mouth away and kiss me. Your mouth is moist and just when I get used to the rhythm of your tongue in my mouth, you withdraw and bite my bottom lip hard.

I reach down and undo the button on my skirt. The fabric falls and puddles on the floor. Your fingers roughly shove my thin panties aside and find my clit.

"How you feeling now?" you ask as I shudder and come on your fingers. I can feel my wetness on my thighs.

"Better." I say when I recollect my thoughts, then I'm seized with the fear that you'll stop pleasing me. "But... still a little tense."

You grin and kneel. Your hands roughly shove my thighs apart, and then your mouth moves to my clit. Two fingers push past my swollen lips and into the depths of my wetness. I roughly entangle my hand with your hair and grip in rhythm with your licks. The heat and pleasure from my cunt is unbearable. Your technique is rough, and there's no pattern to the way you pulse your fingers inside me. You lick and kiss my clit, occasionally using just the right amount of teeth.. The vibrations from your moans send me over the edge. I don't give you any warning when I come – I just grip your head between my thighs and quiver all over.

You withdraw. I can see my moisture glistening on your face. I smile back down at you. The sauce is burning on the stove; neither of us care.

"You know," I say, "I feel much better. Much, much better."

Republished with permission of Cailtin St. Clair. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.