Obsession
Story Codes: MF, Consensual, Exhibitionism,

Obsession
by Little Red Hen


It's always him I think about.

Of course, I'd never actually tell him that, it'd make things far too awkward between us, and some
things are really best to remain unsaid.

We did kiss once, a frenzied, drunken pull in a corner of a dingy nightclub. We were on a night out
with our group of friends, and somehow it ended up just the two of us, necking shots and leaning
on each other for support as we staggered from the dance floor to collapse at an empty table. I
remember the palpable chemistry between us as I took the initiative and made the first move, our
tongues immediately intertwined, my fingers knotted into his hair as he pulled me into his lap. We
stayed there until closing time, snogging like teenagers, drunk on a heady mix of lust and alcohol.

I allowed myself to float home afterwards, my make-up smudged and my hair stuck to my head,
certain that this was the fairytale ending I'd always wanted for us, and that he'd pop round to my
flat the next day with a DVD and a McDonalds to ease our mutual hangovers.

It didn't happen. He didn't text me for four days, and when he did, he didn't mention our kiss.

Of course I brought it up the next time I saw him face to face. I'm a girl; I can't let these things lie. I
remember him avoiding eye contact and blushing as he told me that we couldn't let anything
happen again because we were "too close" as mates, and despite my clumsy attempts to entice
him out to the cinema or to the pub, he seemed to cling to the rest of our social circle, ensuring the
two of us were never alone together.

It was awkward for a while. We avoided each other, we pulled other people, he started seeing a girl
from his work, I dated a couple of guys but no-one I really wanted to be with.

We're mates again now, and I don't think he would even consider me in that way if I was the last girl
on earth. It makes me sad, because he's single at the moment, as am I, and every night, when I
curl up alone under my duvet, it's him I see in my fantasies, lying with me, holding me, his arms
warm and manly around me.

It's his hands I imagine as I run my own over my body, feeling my skin soft and smooth under my
fingertips, teasing myself, my nipples hardening exquisitely, almost painfully as the touch moves
from my full, sensitive breasts down the curve of my stomach, tracing the outline of my knickers.

I see his eyes, an amazing, unusual shade of hazel, drawing me in, sparkling with mischief,
suggestive of the filth he has planned for me as he firmly grasps my wrists, stretching my arms
above my head, his tongue already dancing a trail down my neck to my waiting nipple, biting,
hurting me in a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain.

I feel his strong hands push my thighs apart as he settles between them, pulling the soft satin of
my knickers up into my waiting pussy before tugging them roughly down, leaving them around my
ankles so that my legs are bound together in an arch that he lifts easily onto his shoulders, moving
in close to me as my ankles settle onto his broad back. The slight stubble he often sports grazes
lightly across my shaven pussy as he blows cool air across my lips, which are already slick with my
juices, wet for him, my body on edge and electrified by his presence. I watch the glint in those eyes
as he slowly, teasingly, tastes me, sliding his hands under my arse, lifting my rapidly dampening
cunt into his face as his tongue flicks over my clit and the full length of my lips.

His tongue pushes insistently inside me, probing my pussy, making me squirm with pleasure as my
body relaxes, desperate to let him as deep into me as humanly possible. I hear my moans of
enjoyment as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of my arse, supporting my bodyweight as he eats
my quivering cunt, my fingers twisting into his dark hair like the night we first kissed, his tongue
dancing the patterns over my clit that I remember from our messy kisses in the club.

I'm ready. I close my eyes as I slide a finger inside myself, losing myself again in the fantasy that
it's him gently opening me up, one finger at a time, working my pussy until he has three fingers
buried inside me, fucking me harder now, his eyes locked on mine as he watches my reaction, that
dirty smile of his lazily breaking over his face as he watches my tits bounce with his efforts.

I hear his voice, whispering to me, telling me how beautiful I am, how filthy I look lying there opened
up to him like this, how he is going to fuck me in every position I can think of until I cum all over his
cock. His crude words turn me on even more, and my moans get louder, in time with his fingers
pounding my pussy.

I reach out to him, trying to reach his beautiful hard cock that I can already see outlined against his
boxers. He stays in position between my legs, not quite letting me reach him, and I sink back
against my pillows, frustrated. He smiles, that amazing smile, letting me know that my frustration
won't last for long. Removing his fingers from my pussy, he frees my bound ankles, tenderly
rubbing the indentations on my legs where the satin has dug into my flesh, and trails the soft
knickers up my leg, over my hot pussy, and up my body, dragging the silky material over my rigid
nipples. I cry out as he leans over me, every nerve ending in my body standing to attention at the
feather-light touch of the material across my skin.

He draws my knickers back down my body, over my stomach and from my hip down to my waiting
cunt, grazing the material over my clit and making me jolt in surprise as he applies a bit of
pressure, rubbing me with the satin and covering it liberally with my hot, clear juices.

"I want you," I breathe, begging him to stop teasing me.

His response is to kiss me fleetingly, before pushing the damp material of my own knickers into my
mouth.

"We're doing this on my terms," he smiles, as I bite down on his home-made gag, tasting myself
and how turned on I am.

I moan into the material, watching him remove his boxers just out of my reach and positioning
himself on top of me, his rock-hard cock sliding easily along my soaked pussy without actually
pushing inside.

"Should I tease you for a bit more?" he muses, lining his cock up as if to fuck me, and give me the
release I so desperately need.

I shake my head, pleading him with my eyes, and he pauses, pinning me down and slowly circling
his hips, rubbing his dick against me, not quite sliding into me. I try to raise my hips up to meet him,
but he rises with me, staying in the same infuriating position, driving me crazy.

"OK, I'm ready to fuck your cunt now," he breathes, finally plunging his cock into me in one fluid
movement. I groan loudly and he adjusts the knickers in my mouth, warning me that any further
noise won't be tolerated. I bite down, struggling to remain silent as he fucks me in missionary
position, his cock hot and hard inside me, his hands lightly on my throat, dominating me, his
gorgeous, filthy eyes showing that he is really getting off on using my body like this.

His cock fills me up, his lips are on mine as he thrusts inside me, and I inhale the scent of his
aftershave and sweat, the smell of him that I'd know even if I were to go blind. He's my obsession,
my world, and I wish he knew how strongly I feel about him.

Grasping me firmly, he pushes his cock hard down into me, rolling me over so I move on top,
straddling him. He is impaling me, and I love it. I grind my hips down into his, watching him groan, at
my mercy. The power has changed, and I remove the knickers from my mouth, slowly transferring
them to his.

His eyes show his smile, as he reaches up to grab my tits. I ride him hard, the wet slop of my cunt
and our combined gasps the only noises in the room. I reach down, frigging my own clit, tossing my
hair, arching my back, thrusting my tits into his hands, putting on a show that's as much for his
benefit as mine.

I thrust harder, bringing myself ever closer, my thighs are aching, but I don't want to stop for a
second. His eyes are closed, and he moans, muffled by my knickers in his mouth. My clit feels like
it's about to explode, it's so sensitive, and I deliberately tighten my pussy around him, milking his
hard-on, giving my all.

Suddenly, he spits the moist satin from his mouth. "I love you," he gasps, rolling me onto my back,
pushing my legs up and hooking then onto his shoulders, making my pussy tighten round him even
more. He pistons into me, fucking me harder than anyone ever has before. The combination of the
relentless thrusting against my G-spot and the position, crushing my lungs, making me short of
breath, brings me off. At the same moment I feel him explode inside me, I close my eyes, throwing
my head back into the pillow, feeling my cunt spasm around his cock, my whole body trembling. I
ride the waves of pleasure, seeing in my mind's eye his face as he releases his hot cum inside me,
as we revel in our mutual release.

Always, always, it's his name I sigh as I finally allow myself to come down from my orgasm, my
horny thoughts still whirling around in my head as I settle into post-orgasmic bliss, imagining him
wrapping me in his arms as we spend the night together.

Like I say, I can never tell him my fantasies. It'd make things far too awkward. I just have to hope he
reads this story someday and realises that it's about him...


© 2013 Little Red Hen



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