Chapter 45

Sometimes you think you know everything, but you don’t know shit. There I was, feeling like the devil himself, but the woman was the devil in person. She didn’t react at all to my question — her face closed up, no smile, no sign, nothing. The scariest thing I’d ever seen. Right then, I almost regretted saying it.

She came toward me with the calmest walk in the world, step by step, and it felt like time was dragging. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my chest.

She stopped right in front of me. Didn’t say a word. Just put her hands on my shorts, unbuttoned them firmly, and slowly pulled down the zipper.

“This would be a problem. The wax wouldn’t hold… I need to see.”

“See? W-what do you mean… see?” I wasn’t stupid, I knew exactly what she wanted, but the shock made me stutter.

She grabbed the waistband of my shorts and slid them down, along with my panties, leaving me naked from the waist down right there in the kitchen, under the dim light and the smell of incense. The air hit me straight on, cold, giving me goosebumps all over.

She tilted her head, eyes locked on me, and gave that tiny, wicked smile.

“See.” she repeated, her voice low, almost a whisper.

My whole body trembled, not from fear, but from that hot anticipation that was already wetting my thighs.

I nodded on impulse, but what came next made me close my eyes right away.

She slid her hands down like claws, her nails grazing my skin, scratching slowly over my belly and down my stomach. It was a light scratch, but it made my body contract all over, like each little mark left an electric trail behind.

I felt her fingers reaching the barely trimmed hair, brushing lightly, and a stab of shame hit me — she was the one who’d told me to let it grow, and now it seemed like she was checking the results.

She didn’t touch just any way. She made slow circular motions, like she was massaging the area with her fingertips, spreading heat. The sensation was insane: it wasn’t even directly on my clit, but it felt like it was sucking the strength out of me from the inside. With every circle of her fingers, I got weaker, my knees buckled, like she was stealing my soul, leaving me without ground.

My chest was heaving up and down fast, and I bit my lip trying to hold back any sound, but it was impossible to hide that I was already done for. Her eyes were locked on mine like they were holding me, two green sparks, powerful, with this dominating presence that drove me crazy and turned me on…

A sigh escaped my mouth before I could stop it, and my legs gave out so much that I had to lean back against the counter behind me.

She went lower, her fingers finding their way between my thighs, exploring with calm, almost lazy ease. First, it was just the tip, like she was testing the texture, feeling the wet skin. She slid lightly, up and down without rushing, just making me wait for the next move.

My body responded on its own: every time her fingers brushed, my pussy throbbed, opening up more, begging for more contact. The touch wasn’t direct on my clit — she made sure to circle around, draw loops, trace paths in the surrounding area, like she was painting a secret picture on me.

I breathed deep, eyes closed, and even then it felt like I could see sparks behind my eyelids.

“Look at that… so wet already just because I said I was gonna take a peek?” her voice came low, teasing, too close to my ear.

I swallowed hard, unable to answer.

The tip of a finger slipped inside, just enough to make me moan softly. It wasn’t real penetration, just a tease, like dipping a finger in honey and pulling it out right after. A tiny in-and-out, just to leave me desperate.

She laughed low.

The movements kept going slow, almost cruel. The finger inside was just a threat, barely anything, while the other two stayed firm exploring the entrance, pressing, spreading the hot wetness. Every time I thought she was finally gonna give me what I wanted, she pulled back, leaving me on the edge. I gripped the counter hard, arms rigid, my whole body surrendered. The heat rose in waves, and all I could think was that if she wanted, she’d make me cum just with this game of almost nothing.

In my head everything felt slow, jumbled. I had no urge to react — and she had no hurry at all. I did, always. When I finally got my shit together and told my body to move, the command was simple: grab her tits. But that’s when she stopped.

She laughed, looking at me, brought her fingers to her mouth and licked them slowly, savoring it, like she wanted to torture me more. Still smiling, she turned to the stove, turned off the flame, and said casually:

“Later I’ll heat this up. Come on, follow me…”

And she walked out down the hall, swaying her hips in a way that hypnotized me, pulling her blouse over her head. Each step revealed more skin, until her bare, perfect back was fully on display, calling me without a word.

“Holy fuck…” it slipped out of my mouth low, almost an unintentional whisper.

I tugged at the hem of my shirt in an idiot move, feeling silly and clumsy, and followed her like a puppy that doesn’t know whether to bark or wag its tail. I had no idea what to do, nerves eating me up inside. If someone asked me right then if it was horniness or curiosity, I wouldn’t know how to answer. Bullshit, of course it was horniness — it’s always horniness, and it’s always that which drags me headfirst into trouble.

In the bedroom, she grabbed a plate left on the edge of the bed and, without giving me time to breathe, turned to me. Her shorts slid off her hips in a slow glide, revealing smooth white skin, almost no color change until it reached her pussy. So perfect it looked plastic, except for the little slip of flesh peeking out, teasing, alive. My mouth filled with saliva, my pussy throbbed in the same rhythm.

I couldn’t take it anymore. This game was good, but with me everything’s at full voltage. I took two steps forward and planted a kiss on her mouth, urgent, hot, rough, just so she wouldn’t say another word.

The shock was instant. Her soft lips parted and my tongue pushed in without asking, meeting hers in a brush that turned into a dance, then a fight, then surrender. Her taste flooded me completely, sweet and salty, leaving my body shaking. My hands climbed her curves, squeezing her waist, sliding to her firm ass, pulling her against me. She reacted with light nails scratching my back, a shiver burning my skin.

Her body pressed against mine had me out of control — tits against tits, belly against belly, heat against heat. The kiss just deepened, wetter, more urgent, our breaths crashing in muffled moans. I sucked on her mouth like it was the only source of air in the world, while our tongues tangled, hungry, fighting and giving in at the same time.

It was in the middle of that kiss that I felt her hands sliding down my back, quick, firm. Without stopping the kiss, she pulled the hem of my blouse up, bunching the fabric in a hurry. I raised my arms almost without thinking, obedient to the touch, and she stripped me like it was the most natural thing. The chill of the room hit my skin at the same time as the heat of her body covered everything, and that just fired me up more.

Our lips didn’t break, but her hands didn’t stop: she unhooked my bra with a quick snap, like it was routine, and in seconds my tits were bare, pressed against hers. Skin met skin and a shiver ran through my whole body. She moaned against my mouth, like she approved, and squeezed my waist, pulling me deeper into the kiss, leaving me even more surrendered.

To be continued…