Walk Away

Your eyes move away from me, and lock onto the doorway behind me. You want to leave. I gaze at you, and my lip curls at your innocence. You're exactly what I've been looking for. You mumble out an "Excuse me," and try to squeeze past. You're focusing way too much on your tits pushing against my side as you move around me. And, just for a moment, your mind fills with a vision of my hands rubbing all over you.

I turn slightly, and I can feel you push past more confidently, until I grab your arm. You stop with a shock in my grip. "Hey love," I say, keeping my voice low. I pull you closer, and breathe my words in your ear. "Don't be leaving so quickly." I can feel you shudder against me. Your mind is focused on your tits pressed against my chest, and upon hearing my voice, your panties dampen ever so slightly. You don't know what to think about me, but you're enthralled.

You try to swallow and talk at the same time, only managing to get out a half stuttered "Okay." You look up at me, pinned between me and the fridge. You breathe in deeply, taking in all the smells that I make up. The faded vanilla of my body wash, and the light coconut of aftershave, or cologne. I look around, and notice that no one seems to be outside. I smile slightly, and look down at you. I slide my hand around your waist, and half drag you towards the door. You resist for just a moment, feet sliding a few inches, before you give in and walk with me, keeping your shitty beer level with the ground, so as not to spill it.

Once I get you outside, I walk you across the patio to the far side of the house, where people are few and far between. I turn around, and push up against you, pinning you against the railing. You inhale sharply, and then again, as my hand falls from your waist, and grabs your ass. When I squeeze, you're suddenly aware of how close to your pussy I am, and you can feel your panties dampen all the more. Blood rushes to your cheeks as I tighten my grip on your ass.

"Does this bother you?" I breathe in your ear. It's more of a statement than a question. Shuddering you, you get out a quick "Yes!" as more bloody rushes to your cheeks as your pussy moistens even more. All I've done is **** myself upon you, and you have no idea why you're so aroused. You notice my hand hasn't moved from your ass, and you realize that I either didn't hear you, or simply don't care.

I move my other hand to your waist line, and push my hand against your stomach, sliding up to get a handful of your glorious tits. You bite your lip, and block my movements with your hands, your brain finally obeying. You look up in time to see my smile fading. I look at you for a moment, and bring my mouth close to your ear. "Do you hate me?" I breathe. You feel guilt rise in your chest, and you bite your lip. After a moment, you manage a feeble "No." When I move back and look at you, you look at you feet, and mumble that you need to get rid of your beer.

Without looking away from you, I grab your beer, and toss it over the railing. You look up at me, just as I push my lips down upon yours.