The Daily Chores - Sex Stories

The Daily Chores

... your nipples distending with each breath you take. It is a delicious mixture of fear and turmoil coursing all through your thoughts; enough that you might even be a little thrilled with the idea of not knowing what is going to transpire next. Making a minor adjustment to the table in front of the couch, I kneel. Lovingly, I reach out and caress your face with my fingertips. Gently touching, tracing across the high cheekbones. Sliding down to your delicate neck and back up to your ear, I feel you shiver with anxious delight. I do the same on the other side of your divine face. I long to see your green eyes gazing down on me, but for now, it is best you do not. Trickling my fingers down your neck, across your collar bone, and over the crown of your shoulder joints, I gradually slide the tank top from your shoulders. Pressing the straps down a bit, the cloth begins to lower against your breasts. Your breathing increases tempo, you are uncertain if you are beginning to enjoy this or fearing something much worse. I lean in close to your ear, lightly kissing it with my lips. Tracing the lobe with my tongue, I feel you tremble ever so slightly. Tracking down your neck with my lips and tongue, I reach the juncture of your neck and body. Searching for the jugular, I open my mouth and suckle your throat. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to clarify my intentions toward you. As I release your throat, I lean across to the other side and begin anew. Moving to your cheeks, I kiss ...

... across your face, all while rubbing your upper thighs with my hands. With each movement of my hands, your legs spread ever so perceptually. As I prolong my efforts on your face, neck and shoulders, my hands continue to caress your toned legs. The minutes pass, my kisses travel down your neck and over your collar bone. As I remove my hands from your thighs, I move between your open legs and prevent you from closing them. I softly lower the tank top straps further down your arms, exposing your breasts to view as the material clumps together around your waist. They stand proud; nipples hard and erect in the cool air. There is no hesitation. My mouth searches for and finds your left nipple. Taking it between my lips, my tongue begins to play a drum beat across it. Flickering and flitting, touching and teasing, it caresses and tastes the delicate bud extending from the flesh. My left hand slides across and engulfs your right breast in my meaty palm. Locating the nipple with my fingernail, I lightly scratch it while tenderly raking my teeth across your left nipple. Your moan gives you away. I can sense and feel you beginning to give in to your wanton desires. It’s not enough that you wish to know who is tormenting your flesh. It’s not enough that you want to grasp my head and hold it close against your breast while I feast on your nipple. You want to be demure, to be prim and proper. Yet, your body gives you away. Your need for sexual domination, to be controlled, to be taken to ...