Building The Tension

"I can't help myself."

The words snarl out past his lips as his hand snaps out and grasps my wrist. With a rough tug he pulls me to my feet and he crushes me in his arms for just a moment as his tongue roughly explores my mouth.

Then he pulls me back, his cock pressed between my thighs and throbbing achingly close to my sex but all my attention is on the fired blaring out behind his eyes as I meet his gaze.

"I can't wait another moment," he says, by way of explanation before he gives me a better one with his body.

And we're only in this moment for a moment longer before he's spinning me away. Like two dancers executing a movement I am twirled from his effort, spun out to the limits of his reach on the tips of my toes as I almost pirouette before he draws me back in.

But this time his pull is not as graceful as his push. He tugs me back and I am pressed back against the firmness of him, facing away.

His arms wrap around me and hold me to him and I feel his breath on my neck as I melt into his grip. Behind me his hips saw against me, sending the thickness of his cock sawing between the cheeks of my ass.

He pulls back a little more each time, making it so that on the downstroke his cock slides a little further between my legs. Back and forth and back and forth and it's building the already palpable tension within me, the thrill of anticipation that breaks as his cock slips forward and I close my thighs around it, trapping his length up against my panty clad sex.

This time when he thrusts it's like he's fucking against me. He is hot and he is hard and he is pulsating and when he rests, for just a moment, the head of his cock is throbbing against my clit and I have to fight to do much more than just shudder as I wait for him.

But that is my position here, my purpose. I am here to be here for him, to be used by him. To be his submissive and to let him take charge.

Our relationship isn't defined by that power balance, not on a day-to-day and not on the nights we are together. It is not only ever one of us who is the dominant and who is the submissive.

But tonight it feels like he should be in charge.

Tonight I am his present, my body here for him to use for his own purposes. An early Christmas present perhaps but I have wrapped myself up and I give myself eager to him, so eager to have him inside of me once more.

From the moment he was first inside of me I knew that he fit so well in me. My body didn't stretch or strain to accomodate him, it simply adjusted around him. It was like he was a key and I was a lock and in the moment he was first in me, well it unlocked something within myself.

I knew that it could be good, that it could be so good with others. It might even be better with others, but with him things were...

He made me feel complete.

In this moment his cock saws against my sex and the thrust and the feel of him hard behind me and the way his hands roamed over me, his grip so taut and tense that even through the admittedly skimpy lingerie it felt like he was touching skin on skin or maybe even deeper than that.

But in the moment my focus is on the riot of sensations that is all of that and trying to parse out the whispered words that might just be senseless in my ear and it all makes it hard to concentrate so I don't even notice until he has me pressed up against the side of the couch that we've even moved at all. He's shuffled me, but only when he bends me over the arm of the couch and I collapse down onto it do I realize what a loss he has me at.

Not that I mind.

My hands clench the cushion beneath me on the couch as I feel his hands slide up and over my ass. He hooks into my panties and he pulls them down and I know that he's rushing but it all feels like it's happening so achingly slowly because I want it. I want it maybe more even than he does.

Though, to his credit, he doesn't even manage to pull my panties all the way down before he's had enough.

They wind up trapped around my knees and he twists them a little, locking my legs together and making my already tight sex even tighter for him. He will have no trouble pressing into me though because I am dripping wet and ready for him and he knows it without even having to look because he knows my body so well but when the head of him presses at the entrance of me and he feels the dampness of my lips there is no question left for him.

"Take me," I beg him, "Make me yours."