A Scene That Would Be Hot

I'm having this guy over. Maybe he's an ex of mine, maybe he's a coworker, maybe he's a date I don't know very well yet... regardless, our relationship is such that sexual things aren't supposed to happen yet. Or ever.

I still totally think he's hot, though. And I'm glad to see him, even a little anxious when I open the door and let him in. We start the evening's activities, whatever legitimate thing he was supposed to come over for. Dinner and catching up on each others' lives, perhaps, or small talk, or just general hanging out. Despite the platonic quality of our relationship, there's something sexy and intimate about the evening. Wine with dinner. Soft music playing. Low lighting. Touching accidentally, but not minding. Maybe the movie we're watching almost uncomfortably reflects elements of our relationship, or evokes feelings we didn't know we had.

Slowly, we find ourselves in each other's personal space. Accidental brushes become more frequent. We start looking at each other in a different way. I contemplate his lips, wondering what they'd feel like on mine; his hands, how they'd feel, oh, in my hair, around my back, holding me tightly, working their way down my torso to tease my thighs...

It feels warm, suddenly. I feel warm. I realize he's sitting very close. How did that happen...? But I'm perhaps a little too befuddled by the alcohol, or how good he smells, or our very proximity, to think too hard about that. His face, his lips, are so much closer than before. I stare. He clears his throat, and my eyes jump up to meet his. He looks... delicious, and also... hungry. I vaguely wonder if that's how I look as I realize how wet I've gotten. He's staring at my lips, too.

"We shouldn't," I murmur.
"Or should we," he replies, a wicked glint in his eyes, a half-smirk on those tempting lips... and then he reaches over, grabs my chin, and pulls me forward into a soft, smoldering kiss. Letting me up for air, he asks "More?" and I can only moan my agreement before we're kissing again, harder now, more insistently.

He moves to my neck, letting me make as much noise as I like as he kisses up and down, melting my thoughts away, oh it feels so good... and oh, just like I'd imagined, just like I'd hoped, his hands run down my torso to feel my legs, taut from pleasure. His fingers stroke the inside of my thighs and I moan, ohhhh yessss...






And then, of course, there's a number of ways it could go from here. We could end with some lovely fingering and a (well, relatively) vanilla orgasm, or he could tease me more and make me beg and pull my hair before he fingers me, or perhaps, if I'm really lucky, he'd put me under and give me some sexy suggestions.

I suspect I will have little trouble finding partners interested in doing all of these things to me. ;]