I laid in bed, laptop open, watching the Giants play the Cowboys, rooting for the Giants. My first NFL football game in 20 years. I wore no panties just because I could.
He called after the game. We commiserated on how poorly it had gone; He educated me on the finer points of football.
The conversation turned. He growled in my ear as Sir, and my cunt dripped, moisture pooling between my legs. My voice cracked as I responded to Him.
“Don’t you fucking do it.”
“No Sir, I promise, I won’t let myself cum,” I muttered through gritted teeth. The force of keeping my body in check took all my energy. Eyes squeezed shut, I found a way to push back the fast-rising tidal wave of desire.
I reflected on my amazement that His voice brings me straight to the edge of a cliff.
Once I regained control, I allowed my body to relax again. My legs splayed open; the gentle breeze from the ceiling fan above created a pleasant sensation from the quickly fading moisture between my legs.
My scent filled the room. I breathed deep. Intoxicating in its primal odor, I felt my desire rise once more. I physically closed my legs and mentally shut all thoughts down. I must not fail Him in this. Just two more days…