Just Call Me...Lover. - Sex Stories

Just Call Me...Lover.

... we had kissed passionately until she had fallen into a blissful sleep.

But one glance at that drawing, at those arcane eyes, even in effigy, had chased any possibility of sleep far, far away from me. My attention returned to the window, upon whose sill, rested Jacqueline's prized sea urchin – there to air gracefully and be admired before she packed it away like some treasure from remote antiquity, ready for its eventual journey back to St Louis.

My mind in its sleepless, restless state groped for distraction, distraction I usually found in music or sex at this time of night but I was loath to get out of bed and my slumbering nymph was spent and she had more than earned her rest earlier. So, reluctantly, I drifted back to one night when I had probably drunk too much in the company of my mysteriously anonymous femme fatal.

It had been over a week since we had last fucked, she had cited no reason in particular for this and I detected a general air of distraction in her along with the distinct impression that she simply was not interested. There was no point in asking her what was wrong, as with any normal person. My question would have gone unanswered and I had already been met with several unequivocal replies of “No.”

Her conversation, as usual, had been about herself and some of the implausible adventures she had had in a number of obscure European locales. So I drank more than usual that week. She did not comment on this of course, nor did she make any demands ...

... upon me other than to dispatch a particularly large and angry hornet that had got itself trapped in the kitchen.

On one particular night that week, I awoke to see her sitting, quite nude, upon the windowsill, at the same spot that was now occupied by Jacqueline's skeletal urchin. She sat there like a cat, watching me as I struggled to focus my eyes on her shadowy loveliness. I slowly became aware that she had her legs spread and held her riding crop between them.

The widow was open and she leaned back against the window frame with her perfect, apple-sized breasts luminous in the moonlight. From there, my eyes travelled down to her navel, her beautifully proportioned hips and the dark slit of her pussy that she rubbed idly now with the riding crop. Although I didn't move, it must have been obvious to her that I was awake. She continued watching me with silent, sphinx-like intent, rubbing her labia almost idly with the shaft of the riding crop.

After several more moments of this, she suddenly feigned surprise, removed the crop, closed her legs and swung her face towards the window and the street outside. All done in the most affected and theatrical manner imaginable.

Oh, so this whole week has been one of your little games has it…

Anger seized me and I threw off the sheets revealing that her little performance had indeed aroused me. I doubt if this had been any surprise to her but when I lunged forward and grabbed her by the hair, I saw her eyes widen and possibly ...