Longer than you think

The next morning Kevin shuffled into the kitchen, eyes bloodshot, shoulders slumped. He looked wrecked, like a man who hadn’t slept in days. His cock strained visibly against his sweatpants, swollen, pulsing, leaking from the torment she had put him through.

Emma, on the other hand, was radiant. She moved about the kitchen as though she were floating, her bare skin glowing in the sunlight. She wore only sheer nylons that ended mid-thigh, a hold-up bra that presented her breasts like a gift, and nothing else. Each step was deliberate, the faint click of her heels on the tiles punctuating the silence.

Kevin froze in the doorway. His breath hitched.

Emma turned, smiled knowingly, and held up her coffee mug. “Good morning, pet. You look… uncomfortable.”

His throat worked, but no words came. His gaze dropped to the apex of her thighs where the nylon tops kissed her bare pussy, glistening already.

She took a slow sip, then set the mug down, walking toward him with a sway that was pure theatre. When she reached him, she placed a hand on his chest and pressed him back into a chair. He obeyed without resistance.

“Poor thing,” she cooed, her voice low, taunting. “All pent-up, aching, ****. You’ve been living for this cock, haven’t you? Stroking, dreaming, wanting release. But you don’t even know how a woman works, do you?”

Kevin’s cheeks burned crimson. He shook his head, eyes locked on her body like a starving animal.

Emma slipped two fingers between her thighs, spreading herself slowly, luxuriously. Her clit glistened in the morning light. She tilted her hips, presenting it to him like a professor unveiling a lesson.

“This,” she said sharply, circling the nub with her finger, “is the clitoris. The only thing that matters when you’re down there. Every other part of my cunt exists to serve this. You’ll learn that, Kevin. You’ll learn to worship it.”

His breath grew ragged, chest heaving. His cock throbbed visibly, damp spot spreading at the tip of his sweatpants.

Emma smirked. “Hand. Now. Stroke.”

He obeyed instantly, tugging his cock out, swollen and angry, pre-cum stringing between his fingers as he began to pump.

“Good boy,” she purred, her own fingers working her clit in slow circles, hips rolling as she watched him. “But don’t you dare come. You stop when I tell you to stop.”

Kevin whimpered, jerking faster, thighs trembling, his whole body quivering on the edge.

Emma’s voice cracked like a whip. “Stop!”

His hand froze mid-stroke, cock twitching violently, a bead of cum threatening to spill. He groaned in frustration, head falling back.

Emma withdrew her hand from between her thighs, slick with arousal, and smeared it across his lips. “Taste me. That’s what real pleasure is. Not your filthy little habit, not your lonely wanks. Me.”

Kevin moaned into her fingers, licking them desperately, while his cock strained and pulsed untouched.

She stood tall, adjusting her bra, the smirk never leaving her lips. “You’re not allowed release until I say. And the longer you hold out, the more I might show you. But if you fail—” she leaned down, her lips grazing his ear, “—you’ll regret it.”

She left him there, panting, shaking, half-broken already.