You're Watching

I was going to tell you about Jules and the night I discovered pleasure pain. But I'm wired and tired so I'm just going to tell you where I am. On my deck there's a long swinging chair, like you see on old farmhouse porches. It's 60 and the rain is gone. I'm lying on that swing with pillows behind me looking up at the sky. No stars yet, just floating clouds. I've been drinking with a neighbor but he's called it a night and I'm still here, alone, under the big night sky. The gentle wind blows a strand of my hair into my face and I run my hands through it and pull it back, turning me on. I know it's late but come on up. I know you desire to watch me. Only watch. And I will give it to you now. My mind is tired and I place my fingers on my temples rubbing them gently and then twirl a strand of hair around my fingers before biting the tip of my finger. I'm looking at you. Look at me. I suck the tip of that finger and run it and then my tongue over my lips and then lick the finger. Are you watching? I slide that wet finger down my neck and over the soft dip at the base of it, still down and into the v-neck of my soft shirt, pulling it slightly to the side as I nibble my lip. My thin silver chain shimmers in the moonlight that slowly has broken through. I slide down on my pillows and slowly, so slowly, release the buttons on my shirt one at a time. You can hear the fabric slide apart. Are you watching? I am. The base of my palms are running the length of my torso from my hips to the bottom of my bra. Would you like more? Pop the button on my jean shorts. You already did, didn't you? Let's make it worth it. I lick my fingers and push my hand into them, the zipper opens just enough to see my pink panties, and my hand is inside them. Now I know you're watching. Shall I leave that sweet lacy pink bra on so you can just see through to my full breasts? Or shall I take it off? I think I'll leave it for now. I'll just drop the straps down over my shoulders so I can rub my neck. It's luscious to run my fingers up through my purple hair and let it drift back over my shoulders just brushing the lace edge on my bra. I have your attention now? I spread my legs apart and put my hand back into my shorts. You can see it's moving in slow lazy circles. My other hand is in my hair and I slide farther down into the pillows. Stars begin to appear. It's slow. So slow. You're mesmerized aren't you? I am beautiful, slim, firm, curved and smooth. I arch into myself and let out a deep breath that I've been holding. I am toying with the lace on my bra. Slipping my fingers underneath I pinch my nipple and it stands up hard bringing the cup of my bra to a point. Watch now. Watch me push the lace down so my breast rests over the edge of it, and I push it upward so I can suck it myself, but my eyes, just under my deep lashes, are watching you: what you are touching now, how fast and hard you're rubbing, because it lets me know how long to hold it, how far to go. Your eyes are locked on me, and you're getting hotter and hotter, harder and harder, needing to come. I wiggle out of those shorts so you can see. My fingers are in my panties pushing into myself and now I push them down just low enough to use both hands. Yes, I heard you gasp. One hand inside, the other rocking back and forth you are watching my panties, and my tongue tracing tiny circles on my collar bone. You're going to come, I'm watching. Let me come first, it'll make yours so good. Using my toes I pull those panties off and they drift down to the deck. Spreading wide I sperate my labia, lick one finger, and hold it just above my clit. You're pulsing and aching and dying, just admit it. So I lay back, shake out my hair behind me, lift my ass into the air, and slowly arch into that finger. As it slides over my clit and inside me, I watch you groan and let go as the ripples shake me. Was it good for you? It sure was for me.