Forbidden Fruit Ch. 01

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Forbidden Fruit Ch 1: Look But Don’t Touch

I was drunk, beyond drunk actually… I started before the party. There were a few people invited that I didn’t want to see, so I figured if I was thoroughly liquored up it wouldn’t matter… I probably wouldn’t see them anyhow… It was a good plan, of course I was already half lit by the time I realized it was a plan at all… but I liked it so it was the plan

It backfired, of course… Don’t plans always do that? You showed up late, and though I wasn’t suppose to care or be upset, I was. I’d been fighting this attraction for months now, telling myself it wasn’t right or fair, that I liked your wife, that I was dating your brother in-law… a million other reasons I couldn’t do anything about the attraction…

It was difficult, because you were always teasing, flirting, taunting. Sometimes I was sure that you knew, that you were encouraging me… You were testing the limits just like I was. It started innocently enough. A look we would share when dirty jokes came up, throwing double-entendre back and forth. Everyone ignored it, thinking it was my usual flirty banter, but there was a look in your eye, sometimes, that made me wonder…

You started calling me “Tits” one day, because of this shirt I like to wear. Its low cut, sort of a tank top, see through and most of the guys tease me, tickling and tormenting, hoping that the shirt is as precarious as it seems, hoping that I will fall out as I squirm and struggle away…

I thought it was funny, though every so often I’d get a bug about it and start getting offended… That was when I started calling you “Cock” It seemed the appropriate response… Everyone thought it was funny. “Hey Tits!” “Yeah, Cock?” they’d laugh and we’d smirk.

After a while, it seemed more like an endearment, and that was when the other things started. The hugs would last a minute too long. I’d be snuggling on the couch with your brother, and you’d sit on the other end of the couch with my legs stretched across your lap. It seemed harmless to everyone, I’m that feline sort that is happiest snuggled or stretched in some awkward position (and didn’t that get enough taunts, my being flexible…)

The lights went out one night while we were all watching a movie, I went to stand, rubbing my calf along the inside of your though as I stood, taking my time about it. I put my hand on your shoulder for support as I stood, my breasts in your face as I almost fell into your lap. The others teased about my being clumsy, but not you… You just smiled at me as I found the light switch and sat down again. Of course, I had to take the same painstakingly slow process sitting, so that I could get as comfortable as I was before…

One night when we were all out together, at a bar I think, you came up behind me, wrapping your arms around my waist and putting your chin on my shoulder. Your lips brushed across my cheek, your breath against my throat. I shivered and snuggled into you, giggling as you accidentally brushed your hands across my breasts, somehow managing to rub your thumbs across my nipples…

Another time, we were all out at dinner, you were sitting beside me. I squirmed around; trying to get comfortable but just couldn’t do it. Finally I put my leg across your lap, kicking off the shoe on that foot. You teased about “footsies” and I just smirked.

I was wearing that black baby doll dress I found at a thrift store once, it was a bit short but I loved it… or maybe that was bahis firmaları WHY I loved it… The dress pulled up when I stretched my leg out, showing a glimpse of black satin beneath. You muttered something about being a gentleman, tugging it down slightly… But not far, your hand ‘casually’ fell onto my thigh.

Your fingers kneaded the soft flesh of my inner thigh, rubbing back and forth. I shivered every time you pulled at the skin, shocks moving upward and back down again. I shifted, bringing your fingers higher, beneath the table where the others couldn’t see. I leaned forward; elbows on the table, pulling the guys across from us into a conversation about something I knew didn’t interest you. They didn’t seem surprised that you ignored the conversation and just sat there, looking something between dazed and bored…

Your fingers brushed back and forth, shifting higher then drifting away. I was playing with fire, and that made it even better. I crossed my arms on the table, pressing my breasts against them so they couldn’t see my hard nipples rubbing against the cold metal lining on the tabletop…

I shifted the conversation again, so that it would become a debate between the other two… I was having difficulty keeping my thoughts coherent, fumbling over my words as I tried not to let on that anything was up… You glanced over at me, smirking as your fingertips brushed higher, pressing just under the edge of my satin panties.

The waitress came with the bill, and you sat up straight, reaching for it. Smirking again at me while I tried NOT to be obviously disgruntled or distracted… I had been so close… I squirmed free when you tried to trap my leg between your thighs, practically running to the restroom to finish what you had started…

After that, nothing happened for a long time… Three or four months… I thought maybe you’d been embarrassed after the last incident, or that you’d decided I was a slut… We were never alone during that time and I started to wonder, because of the way your wife looked at me, if you had told her….

I tried to use the time to get over it, going through the million and ten excuses, reasons that I couldn’t do what I had been doing, tempting and taunting you… It would ruin friendships, possibly your marriage, but I just couldn’t manage to care…

That was another reason I got drunk that night, the night of the party… I thought I wouldn’t be tempted, but like I said… It backfired.

You sat in the big recliner, the one you always claimed at my house. I pushed aside the footstool, kneeling at your feet. Someone made a joke and you smirked, saying that’s why I was your concubine… We put in a movie, killing the lights. I was so sleepy, so comfortable. Your hands were moving through my hair, as if you had to leave your mark on every curl and strand… As if you hadn’t already managed to claim me without even trying…

I lay back, resting my cheek against your thigh as the movie continued. We both had our eyes closed; the others thought we’d fallen asleep, commenting it was cute that even in your sleep you played with my hair (Tangling it beyond toleration, by the way…)

It seemed accidental, at first, when you tugged on my hair, pulling me into a different position. I followed without thinking, snuggling down again as you let go. I rubbed my cheek against your thigh, smiling to myself as I realized where you had placed me… I stayed very still for several moments ‘falling asleep again’ making kaçak iddaa sure that nobody was looking…

You tugged at my hair again, wrapping a length of it around your fist as you pressed against the back of my neck. It pushed my cheek down, and I could feel how hard you were. Hot, too, like putting my face against a window in the middle of the summer… I purred softly as you pressed and pulled my head along the length, using me to stroke yourself…

There was something just a step beyond erotic to it… Surreal. I felt that we had shifted into another reality, where the games we played were part of a larger game, one that could be completed… I felt that I had truly become your concubine, kneeling at your feet, and you my Master, manipulating me for your own pleasure…

The moment was broken, as moments are wont for doing. The movie ended. I sat up, yawning, and smirked at the look of frustration that you couldn’t manage to hide from me. It felt like justice, after what you’d done at the restaurant (ignoring, of course, the fact that I had technically instigated it all) I made a round of drinks for everyone, then casually glanced in your direction saying that I wanted to listen to music in my bedroom.

I threw in the first CD that I found, which happened to be Enya, appropriate to the mood I was in, and had hoped to set (though I couldn’t admit that until much later, thinking over everything that had happened). It was dark in the room; I opened the window to let in a slight breeze, looking outside while I wondered whether you would actually follow, or if the courage had run out. It was risky, dangerous, exciting… I hoped you would be smart enough to tell me no, even as I prayed that you wouldn’t even consider resisting it.

The door clicked. I glanced up, relieved and anxious… Wondering whether things would continue, whether they should continue, or if you had come for a ‘Talk’. You glanced at the bed, but sat in my computer chair, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. “I told the others you and I had to have a serious talk.” My heart sank and I looked away. You tapped on the arm of the chair and scooted it forward, your voice dropping just to a whisper “So no one will interrupt us.”

I held my breath as I looked up; you were sitting back in the chair again. You smiled, and I knew you had something in mind, and it was going to be devastating. “You can look” you said, undoing the button on your pants, pulling down the zipper. “But don’t touch.” You pushed the jeans further down on your hips. I was surprised, even after having felt its heat and length against my cheek, as your erection sprang out.

My mouth watered, I giggled; it seemed to be waving at me. You smirked and wrapped your fingers around the shaft, slowly moving your hand up and down. You were saying something, but it didn’t seem important, whatever it was. My tongue ran across my lower lip as I watched you brush your thumb over the head, circling and spreading the bead of pre-cum that had seeped out. I remembered the way your thumbs had brushed across my nipples the night in the bar, the way your fingers had moved against my thigh. I slipped off the bed, moving to kneel beside your chair.

It would be easy to lean forward, open my lips, snake out my tongue, but you shot me a warning glance and I sat up straight again, though I knelt at your feet still. I watched, mesmerized, as you pumped your hand along the shaft, amazed that I could feel jealous of that hand. Your eyes kaçak bahis drifted closed as you continued, fluttering open occasionally to make sure I was still watching.

I whimpered, clenching my hands into fists, fighting down the urge to disobey that one command. You made an answering sound, a soft groan that told me that this was difficult for you as well… You wanted more, but you didn’t dare. I bit my lip, shifting forward slightly the next time you looked at me. My lips parted and you groaned again, shifting toward me.

I wasn’t sure I dared, but I had to try. Some sort of logic told me that the boundaries had been exceeded already, that anything more that happened would only be icing to the cake. I wanted, more than anything, to get a taste of that icing…

I put one hand on your arm, tugging lightly as your fingers reluctantly released the grip. I could still see the glistening of wetness on your thumb, and I knew what I meant to do only a moment before I had sucked the digit between my lips, swirling my tongue around the tip of the finger as I would elsewhere, if you would but countermand the previous order. That was important, as much as I wanted and needed more, I wouldn’t do it without permission… It had to be a mutual thing in every way. Nothing would break my heart more than to learn, later, that you had claimed that I had everything to do with it. Even if it was only an excuse for appearance sake…

You groaned. I rose up onto my knees, pressing myself along you as I moved to wrap one arm around your neck. I kissed your cheek, not daring to try for more, letting my body speak the questions I had. I could feel a twitching against my belly as you groaned again, pressing your face into my hair.

The answer was a breath across my ear, half whimper and half moan. “Yes…” Your lips moved against my throat, then across my cheek, finally pressing against my own lips. I shuddered, giving in to the kiss that I had wanted since I met you, several years ago. I sighed, my lips parting, and you took advantage. Tongues caressed, exploring and tasting. It was the essence of passion, as I had always known it would be…

We pulled away eventually, both gasping for breath. I sank down to the floor again, letting your length rest in the valley between my breasts as I waited, again, for your answer. This time it was not verbal… Your fingers tangled in my hair again, gently encouraging me into the right position.

I breathed lightly, blowing soft air as my tongue traced around the head, then dipped into the tip to collect more of that essence I craved. Icing, cakes, some random analogy. Now was not the time for thought, as that might lead one or both of us to hesitate, change our minds, and that couldn’t be allowed to happen.

I wrapped my lips around the head, sucking lightly as I pulled the shaft into my mouth. Your hands directed, your voice soft as you told me what you wanted. The pace picked up where you had left off, just a step below fevered. My jaw ached slightly but I didn’t stop. Some vague thoughts about earnest rewards, it didn’t matter. I could feel the tensing as your hands tangled tighter in my hair, pushing me down even as you whispered a warning you knew I would ignore. It was like a volcano, erupting into my mouth as my throat worked to swallow everything.

Your hands fell away, you sighed as I continued, making sure to get the last, then sat up. I made some quirk, quoting some coffee commercial “Good to the last drop” You laughed. The moment fell into comfortable silence, not awkward, as I had feared. I sat back against the bed, staring at the ceiling. Whatever, if anything would happen next, it had to be at your direction…

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