Look But Don’t Touch #2
The distance between them was barely four feet, but the sexual tension stretching across the fabric of the couch was thick enough to suffocate them.
“Rule number one,” Felicity reminded him, her voice trembling slightly as she reached down to the waistband of her black lounge shorts. “Look, but don't touch.”
With a slow, deliberate movement, she slid her shorts down her thighs and kicked them off onto the floor, leaving her sitting there in nothing but her oversized grey hoodie and a pair of tiny, sheer black lace panties.
Mike’s eyes glued to her lap, his breath hitching as he saw the damp, dark shadow already blooming against the silk crotch of her underwear.
She was already soaking wet just from the anticipation of his gaze.
Felicity reached into her panties, her manicured fingers disappearing beneath the lace. She let out a soft, trembling moan that echoed in the quiet room as her fingers made contact with her swollen, aching pussy lips.
“Oh God, Mike,” she whispered, her eyes locked onto his face as her hand began to move in a slow, rhythmic circle.
She pulled the lace of her panties aside, exposing her glistening, pink pussy entirely to his hungry eyes.
Her clit was already swollen, peeking out from its hood, glistening with a heavy coat of her own juices.
Mike swallowed hard, his hands instantly flying to his own belt.
He unbuckled it with shaking fingers, undoing his jeans and shoving them down past his hips.
He didn't even bother removing them completely, just yanked his thick, throbbing cock out of his Calvin Kleins.
It sprang free, fully erect, veiny, and purple, leaking a heavy drop of pre cum from the tip.
“Fuck, Felicity,” Mike groaned, gripping the base of his shaft. His hand closed tightly around himself, and he began a slow, heavy stroke, making his cock pump up and down right before her eyes. “Look at what you’re doing to me. Look at how fucking hard I am for you.”
Felicity’s eyes went wide at the sight of his thick meat.
She let out a wet, ragged gasp, her index and middle fingers sinking right into the slick cream of her pussy.
She rubbed them up and down her slit, coating her entire hand in her own horny juices, before focusing entirely on her clit.
She began to circle the sensitive little nub, her thumb applying hard pressure while her other fingers slipped inside her own tight hole.
Squelch. Squelch.
The wet, sloppy sound of her own finger sliding in and out of her pussy filled the quiet room, completely drowning out the movie.
Mike’s stroke speeded up, his chest heaving as he watched her head fall back against the couch cushion.
She was a total slut for his eyes, opening her legs even wider, revealing the tight, dark crease of her asshole resting against the gray fabric of the couch.
“Ah... fuck, Mike, watch me,” Felicity whimpered, her hips rolling in time with her frantic finger work.
She began to pinch and roll her clit, her breath coming in short, desperate hitches.
“Watch how wet I am. I’m thinking about your big cock sliding inside me, but I can only touch myself. It’s driving me crazy.”
“You look like such a beautiful little slut right now,” Mike growled, his grip on his dick tightening.
He pumped his hand furiously, his thumb rubbing over the sensitive ridge of his crown.
The veins on his forearms bulged as he focused entirely on the sight of her fingers working her pussy.
He could see her dripping, her juices glistening under the dim living room lights.
“Rub that pussy, Felicity. Rub it hard for me.”
Felicity did exactly what she was told. The sight of Mike stroking his massive cock, his balls tight and heavy against his thighs, sent her over the edge.
She shoved two fingers deep inside herself, pumping them in a frantic, sloppy rhythm while her thumb violently worked her clit.
Her body began to shake, her inner thighs trembling with the oncoming storm.
“I’m gonna cum, Mike! I’m cumming just looking at your dick!”
she screamed, her back arching wildly off the couch.
Her pussy muscles clamped down hard on her own fingers, and she let out a long, shuddering cry as her orgasm violently ripped through her, sending waves of wet pleasure pulsing out of her hood.
Watching her shatter was the final trigger for Mike. He let out a deep, primal groan, his hand moving at lightning speed. He gave three more heavy, desperate strokes, his body freezing as his release hit him.
Splat. Splat.
A thick, heavy stream of white ropes erupted from his tip, shooting across the short distance between them and splashing directly onto the couch cushion right next to her bare thigh. He pumped out shot after shot, coating the fabric, his chest heaving as his orgasm slowly ebbed away.
They lay at opposite ends of the couch, completely breathless, the heavy scent of sex, pussy juice, and cum filling the air between them. They hadn't touched each other once, but it was the most intense, explosive thing either of them had ever experienced.
Felicity looked down at the thick puddles of his cum resting on the couch right next to her, then up at Mike’s spent, throbbing dick. A slow, completely addicted smile spread across her face.
The game had just begun.
By Tuesday evening, the tension between them had grown almost unbearable.
A full four days had passed since the night on the couch, and Felicity’s strict regimen of antibiotics was working, but the absolute ban on penetration remained ironclad.
Instead of dampening their desire, the restriction had turned into an obsession.
The rules of the game were firmly established: look, admire, but never touch.
Mike arrived at her apartment just after dark.
The moment he stepped through the door, the thick, heavy scent of her perfume mixed with a raw, electric charge in the air.
Felicity didn't greet him with a hug this time.
She stood a few feet back, wearing a sheer, deep crimson silk robe that was tied loosely at her waist.
The fabric parted slightly with every breath she took, offering fleeting glimpses of her smooth skin and the dark, heavy curve of her breasts.
"I've been thinking about your dick all day," she said bluntly, her hazel eyes dark, dilated, and completely predatory. "Go sit down."
Mike’s cock twitched violently against his boxers.
He didn't say a word. He walked into the living room, where the only illumination came from a single amber lamp in the corner, casting a warm, moody glow over the gray L shaped sofa.
He sat down at one far end, kicking off his boots and leaning his head back against the cushions.
Felicity followed him, her bare feet silent on the hardwood.
She didn't sit on the couch with him; instead, she stepped directly onto the low wooden coffee table positioned a few feet in front of him.
Standing above him, she slowly reached for the silk tie at her waist.
With a fluid tug, the knot released, and the crimson robe fell open, completely exposing her front. She wasn't wearing any underwear.
Mike let out a low, ragged groan. Her tits were full, her nipples already hard, dark peaks pointing upward. Lower down, her dark, neatly trimmed bush was glistening. She was already leaking, her pussy lips plump and pink, slicked with a glossy layer of her own arousal.
"Look at what you do to me just by walking into the room," Felicity whispered.
She slowly sank down, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, spreading her legs wide so her dripping pussy was perfectly framed at his eye level.
She leaned back on her hands, thrusting her pelvis forward. "Now show me how much you want it."
Mike’s fingers were trembling as he reached for his belt.
He unbuckled it, yanked his zipper down, and shoved his jeans and boxers past his hips in one frantic motion.
His thick, purple shaft erupted into the warm air, fully erect, veiny, and throbbing to the rhythm of his racing pulse.
A heavy, clear bead of pre cum was already pooling at the tip, glistening in the amber light.
He gripped the base of his shaft, his hand closing tightly over the hot meat. He began a heavy, deliberate stroke, pulling the skin tight up to the crown and slamming back down to his heavy balls.
"God, you are so fucking thick," Felicity whimpered, her eyes glued to his hand sliding over his cock. The sight of his veiny shaft expanding made her pussy ache with a deep, empty hunger.
She reached down, her manicured fingers diving directly into her wetness. She spread her outer lips, exposing her swollen clit to his intense gaze. She let out a sharp, wet gasp as her index finger swiped through her cream and rubbed it directly onto the sensitive, hard nub.
Slick. Slick.
The wet friction of her own hand working her pussy filled the quiet room.
Felicity began to pace her breaths, sliding two fingers deep inside her tight, hot hole, pumping them in and out in a sloppy, rhythmic motion.
She was a total slut for his attention, tilting her hips upward so he could see every single detail—the way her pussy opened up around her fingers, the glistening trail of juice running down toward her asshole.
"Stroke it faster, Mike," she begged, her head tossing back, her dark waves tumbling over her shoulders. "I want to watch your balls tighten. I want to see you pump that big cock for me."
Mike did exactly what she commanded. His grip tightened, his stroke becoming a fast, brutal friction.
He watched her thumb frantically circle her clit, her body shivering as she pushed herself closer and closer to the edge.
The sheer visual of her devouring herself right in front of him, totally forbidden to touch, was driving him insane.
"You're dripping all over the table, you beautiful little slut," Mike growled, his voice thick with oncoming release. The veins on his forearms were bulging, his chest heaving as his body temperature soared. "I'm close, Felicity. Rub that pussy. Rub it hard."
Felicity’s hips began to arch wildly off the table.
She shoved a third finger inside her soaking wet hole, her thumb applying a punishing, vibrating pressure directly to her clit.