Abandoned Wife Chapter 3
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Abandoned Wife Chapter 2 free porn video
Please read the first Chapter before you continue reading on.
After that encounter with Chris, I tried to shake off the emotions he had aroused within me and made sure I was not put in that situation again. However, no matter when or how fast I requested assistance, he was always the one assigned to me. At least it was always when other people were around us, even though we worked in a private little study room. The other acute problem looming over me was the absence of David over an extended period. I had not realized how difficult it would be without the support of my family and friends, which I had always had before we were married and were separated. The periods of loneliness and gloom could be overbearing at times, putting me in a funk. What really surprised me was the void created by a sexless life. Since we had been married for such a short time, I had assumed it would not be a significant factor. I was wrong.
Regardless of my misgivings about the encounter I had with Chris, every time I spent any time thinking about what happened with him I became very aroused. When we were at school and I was around him I got that twinge between my legs. I'm sure he was aware of what he did to me. I could tell by the look on his face and the glint in his eyes as if he's saying "I've got your number and I can call it in any time I want to." Twice in those next few weeks, when we were studying together in the private rooms, he casually started touching me. Mostly it has been him massaging my neck, and then slipping his hand down over my breast through the cloth. Even though I always quickly and quietly removed his hand, I didn't know what turned me on the most, him touching me or the confidence in which he did it.
He certainly was to the point that he felt I was his for the taking and that was something entirely new to me, unthought of even just a few days ago. My way of dealing with it after these touching incidences was to go home and bring myself off, sometimes not even making it home at all but finishing myself in the parking lot or on the freeway. Each time I saw him later he seemed to know I had done it. Things like "How did your day go Tuesday. Were you able to concentrate on your work?" or "You look different than you did a few days ago. Are you more relaxed now?" When I was at home and started thinking about him it rarely went by without me cumming, sometimes very slowly for an hour at a time. I did the same thing when I was thinking about David, but I found myself thinking more and more about Chris. Maybe it's because we were in such constant contact.
His touches became bolder. It became common for him to touch my breast under my blouse and to rub me through my jeans, causing me to squirm in my chair and weakly say things like "Please, Chris. We can't be doing this," always pushing his hand away. Finally, I made the mistake of scheduling a late afternoon session on a day that I wasn't in class. Instead, I showed up coming straight from work. I had not thought about it before, but instead of jeans I was wearing my work clothes that consisted of a light blouse and a very short skirt. I rarely wore panty hose and had none on then.
The mistake really came to my attention when I saw him there and his eyes literally lit up when he saw me. Excusing himself for a minute, he made a quick phone call before rushing me into one of the secluded rooms. We went straight to work with no small talk, indicating he was in a hurry. However, as soon as we discussed my problems and he gave me a few to do on my own, his hands started to roam. It was over my breast at first, as it had been in the past. I moved my body around to try to avoid him and brushed his hand away. He turned his chair sideways so he was facing me from my right side and draped his left hand over the back of my seat, putting him very near me. Anybody walking in would have thought it a little inappropriate, but nothing outrageous.
I was not surprised when his right hand arrived at my knee, but still was not prepared and jumped a little. I reached down quickly, grasping his hand and saying, "Don't, Chris." He didn't answer, leaving his hand where it was but rubbing gentle small circles with his fingers. All thoughts of math were gone now. As I concentrated on blocking his hand from advancing up my leg, I hardly noticed the one behind my back slowly sliding under my left arm. Very softly and smoothly, he cupped my breast over my blouse. His fingers took my nipple and slowly teased it, bringing it to an immediate full attention as I felt it swell with the manipulation. I placed my left hand over his, as if that was doing any good.
His hand had managed to persistently creep up, giving my leg a full massage now with his hand rather than the light brushing with his fingers that he had been doing before. Slowly, oh so ever slowly, he moved it up, taking my hand with it. The soft kneading of the inside of my leg, along with the constant taunting of my nipple, was getting to be much more than I could take. I started to move softly with his hands, eyes closing slightly, the fingers on my left hand starting to slowly move over his hand in a small, approving gesture as he continued to please my nipple. My grip on his right hand was no longer a defensive tool, but more a futile attempt of denial.
The brush against my thong was hardly noticeable at first, barely a wiping touch of his fingernails. Sneaked in between the powerful feeling of his full hand on my leg and the ever-growing sensation of my nipple, I almost missed it. But, I didn't. A light sigh came out of my mouth through the quickened breath I took, matching the small unwanted but grateful gyration of my hips. He felt it and immediately increased the speed and pressure he was applying to my nipple. I reacted to his hand on my breast by grasping his wrist, rubbing it slowly as I completely gave in to it. Again, the area of his attention switched, this time using his fingertips to brush fully up and down the length of my labia, one side at a time, teasing them ever so lightly through the cloth.
I closed my eyes and lifted my hips slightly from the warm rush I was feeling. Expecting him to brush my thong aside and enter me with his fingers, he caught me completely by surprise. Leaning over and placing his lips close to my ear, he simply said "Hi," as if seeing me for the first time today. I said nothing, not knowing what he expected me to say, drawing a blank, as my mind was totally captivated now with his touch. "How do you feel?" He asked, as if he didn't know.
I didn't know if he really expected an answer. When he sort of leaned around me with a quizzical look on his face, I knew he did. Gathering what strength and composure I had, I decided to be honest. "Good," I said with a very low voice, almost a whimper.
He nodded quietly, then did the expected and slipped a finger under my thong, sliding it deep and the entire length of me. I threw my head back and moaned, the invasion being a delayed welcome. "You're very wet," he said. "Do you always get so wet so fast?"
What was I to say? Here I was, opening and closing my legs in pleasure as he slipped another finger into me, my nipple on fire and begging. "It's been a long time," I whispered. "I miss my husband." There, I had managed to cover it truthfully.
"Oh, do you?"
"Yes." It was delayed and quiet, but the truth.
"You know, that's a little bit of a surprise." Giving the door a quick check, he surprised me by bringing his mouth down on mine suddenly, deep and full, and leaving it there for a long while as his tongue found mine and his fingers went deeper.
He pulled away. My thoughts gathered and I said "Why?" As if the answer really meant anything.
"Well, even before he left you acted like you were not being satisfied and was going hungry." I wondered how he would know that but didn't push.
"I was completely happy." That was my best response.
"I didn't say you haven't been happy. I said you weren't satisfied." His correct assessment caused my body to give a shudder. Was it so obvious that I could be clearly read? If he could see it, could David?
"Do you fantasize about others when you are with him?" He was whispering very low in my ear, as if this needed to be a deep, dark secret.
I had no intention of feeding his smirk with the truth. But when he took his thumb and forefinger and squeezed my clit suddenly, the pillar of strength I thought I would be turned to sand and I answered truthfully with a very low "Yes. Sometimes."
As if in unison, we both let out with a long "U-m-m-m-m-m," me from the twisting action he was giving my clit and he from the answer I gave which obviously was to his liking.
"Does he ever play games with you."
"Sometimes"
"What kind"
"Just little mind games." I could hardly speak through the fantastic sensation coming up from between my legs now. I was moving non-stop, my hips pressing back and forth on his fingers, my breast pressing against his palm.
"Not like that. Have you ever teased anybody? Have you ever involved another man or woman?"
I thought about it as best as I could. The overall sensation and situation at the time had fast wiped any inhibitions that would make me want to lie. Finally I said, "When we were driving here from Texas I teased a few truck drivers by letting my skirt rise up real high on the seat." I thought that had been pretty daring.
He smiled and laughed lightly. "That's a good start. Did he encourage you or did you do it on your own?"
"Both. I did it a few times when he and I were playing. But when I was driving and he was sleeping I did it a lot." I couldn't believe I was confiding in him this way, but his fingers seemed to make a very humble person out of me.
"Excellent! That means you really enjoyed it. Would you be open to a game that would really turn you on and nobody would put a hand on you?" To my disappointment, his fingers came out of me and went back on top of the flimsy cloth. He had come around in front of me, his face in mine as he waited for the answer.
Struggling with the departure of his fingers, I didn't know what to say. He seemed to recognize my indecision, so he started speeding up his fingers and tantalizing my clit through the cloth until he got the "Okay" from me he was looking for.
"Now?" He asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Let's do something right now. You have to absolutely promise to follow every one of my instructions, down to the smallest detail. I promise you that you will have an orgasm from it. Are you with me?"
With that, both his hands left me, causing me to be vocal with disappointment. He took both my hands in one of his and, lifting them high over my head, gave me a deep, deep kiss before going to my ear with his mouth. "Well?" He asked again.
I was doomed, not in the least bit of a mood to deny him. "Okay," I said in a very small voice, wondering what was in store.
He quickly collected our books and we walked to the door. "Wait a minute," he said. "Take off your panties and give them to me."
"What!!" I think my mouth may have stayed open.
"Right now. Take them off!"
I reached down and slid them down my legs, passing them to him and watched him put them in his bag. Without taking my hand but plainly expecting me to follow, he walked out of the department and went towards the administration building.
When we got there, we went straight to the snack area provided for the students. It's pretty large and at this time of the evening was full of people, mostly adults, coming in from work to attend night school. He led me back to a very small cove where there were a couple of video machines, obviously looking for an empty table. A young man who by appearances was probably a sailor saw us looking and gave us his, moving across from us to sit with two others his age that he obviously knew. We sat down, facing them.
"I'll go get us something to drink," Chris said. But, as he got up, he leaned over and whispered in my ear "They can see under our table. Open you legs a little and give them a show before I come back." With that he was gone, leaving me with an unbelieving look on my face. Surely he couldn't be serious. If he had, I certainly had a willing audience. As much as they were trying to hide it, my short skirt under that table was the center of their attraction. I didn't budge, keeping my legs closed and my skirt as far down as possible.
When he got back, he walked in front of me and took a quick look. The scowl on his face showed his disappointment. "All I asked was a little favor. Surely you can do just that!" he almost growled at me.
This was a side of him I had not seen. After a little more hesitation, I opened my legs a couple of inches. I didn't have to tell him I had. The look on those three faces said it for me. "That's better," Chris smiled. "Isn't this fun?"
Fun was not the word I would have used. I was nervous as a cat and was starting to sweat. When he said "games" maybe I wasn't fully aware of the ramifications.
"Which of them would you rather screw?" He asked softly. I almost jumped at the insinuation. My silence didn't please him." Don't act like you don't like them. Which one?" He demanded.
Caught in a game I wasn't going to win because I didn't know the rules, I finally blurted out "The one in the middle with the blue shirt." Two things happened when I said it. He leaned back with a little satisfied smile and I felt a little voltage between my legs.
"Great!" he told me. "Now, look straight at him and imagine him taking you in any way you want. Don't take your eyes off him at any time, even if he looks straight at you, which he will."
I had no idea how hard that would be. It seemed simple enough, but when I locked in on him and he returned the glare, I started shaking. I sipped my coke to break the tension, as did he, but to no avail. I was about to admit to myself that it was a bit of a turn-on when I heard his voice whisper under his breath "Open you legs wider." When I didn't respond, he said "Do you want me to put my hand down there and do it for you?" I got the message, opening wider and feeling the cool rush under my skirt.
"Do you think he can see your pussy?" He asked.
"No." I was honest. I might not have been so if I knew the consequences.
There was a noise right then not far away that drew the attention of everybody. Quickly Chris said "raise up and pull you skirt real high." Not wanting to draw his ire again, I quickly lifted and slipped it up so that it was bunched under me. Now having nothing to leave to their imagination, I closed my legs tightly. It didn't go unnoticed by Chris.
As the guys attention turned back to me with disappointment, Chris said, "Here's what I want you to do. I want you to keep your eyes open, look straight into his, and imagine him entering you very, very slowly. As he enters you, you'll have to open you legs for him. It'll take a long time."
I swallowed hard, wondering if this was not where I should call it all off. A game was one thing, but this was way out of line. "Remember, you said you would follow my every instruction," Chris could sense my second-guessing.
I gave in. It was harder to do with my eyes open than shut, and I felt like I had an audience, but my mind started to envision the scene. Without thinking, my eyes dropped from their faces to his crotch. Even from there I could see the bulge. I wasn't the only one in the game and he apparently was enjoying his part.
As I looked and my mind wandered, I let my legs open. Making small movements at first, I could tell as I glanced away and then back that I was really making a scene. Chris would occasionally glance down at me and nod with approval. I hated to admit to him, but it was slowly but surely taking its effect on me. That tingling Chris had left me with when he removed his hand from between my legs earlier was returning. I opened wider, feeling my ass doing a small gyration on the seat that I hoped was not visible. Chris killed off that thought when he said, " Your ass is moving. Feels good, doesn't it?" I nodded a mute reply.
By then, I was open enough to allow an interesting view. Their eyes, though intentionally glancing away at times to try to mask their interest, were glued to me. I could see their hardness, all of them. Suddenly, I realized that some of the sensation I felt was not just sexual, but power. I owned them right now. So this was the rush that Chris got from having me under his spell. I realized that in my squirming now I was trying to rub my thighs together in a feeble attempt to come. Chris was right. I could get an orgasm from this.
But just then, much quicker than it had started, it all ended. One of them looked at his watch and jumped up quickly, telling the other two they were late for class. I was almost disappointed when they left, leaving me swinging my legs back and forth in a motion that was gently rubbing my clit. As my eyes closed, Chris stood and said we should leave. When we walked out into the parking lot he simply gave me a little kiss and wished me a good evening as if nothing had happened. We went our different ways, him with a strange smile on his face, me with my wetness dripping down my legs.
We were about fifteen yards away from each other when he called back and said, "You haven't seen nothing yet!"
I could almost feel my wetness increase.
After that encounter with Chris, I tried to shake off the emotions he had aroused within me and made sure I was not put in that situation again. However, no matter when or how fast I requested assistance, he was always the one assigned to me. At least it was always when other people were around us, even though we worked in a private little study room. The other acute problem looming over me was the absence of David over an extended period. I had not realized how difficult it would be without the support of my family and friends, which I had always had before we were married and were separated. The periods of loneliness and gloom could be overbearing at times, putting me in a funk. What really surprised me was the void created by a sexless life. Since we had been married for such a short time, I had assumed it would not be a significant factor. I was wrong.
Regardless of my misgivings about the encounter I had with Chris, every time I spent any time thinking about what happened with him I became very aroused. When we were at school and I was around him I got that twinge between my legs. I'm sure he was aware of what he did to me. I could tell by the look on his face and the glint in his eyes as if he's saying "I've got your number and I can call it in any time I want to." Twice in those next few weeks, when we were studying together in the private rooms, he casually started touching me. Mostly it has been him massaging my neck, and then slipping his hand down over my breast through the cloth. Even though I always quickly and quietly removed his hand, I didn't know what turned me on the most, him touching me or the confidence in which he did it.
He certainly was to the point that he felt I was his for the taking and that was something entirely new to me, unthought of even just a few days ago. My way of dealing with it after these touching incidences was to go home and bring myself off, sometimes not even making it home at all but finishing myself in the parking lot or on the freeway. Each time I saw him later he seemed to know I had done it. Things like "How did your day go Tuesday. Were you able to concentrate on your work?" or "You look different than you did a few days ago. Are you more relaxed now?" When I was at home and started thinking about him it rarely went by without me cumming, sometimes very slowly for an hour at a time. I did the same thing when I was thinking about David, but I found myself thinking more and more about Chris. Maybe it's because we were in such constant contact.
His touches became bolder. It became common for him to touch my breast under my blouse and to rub me through my jeans, causing me to squirm in my chair and weakly say things like "Please, Chris. We can't be doing this," always pushing his hand away. Finally, I made the mistake of scheduling a late afternoon session on a day that I wasn't in class. Instead, I showed up coming straight from work. I had not thought about it before, but instead of jeans I was wearing my work clothes that consisted of a light blouse and a very short skirt. I rarely wore panty hose and had none on then.
The mistake really came to my attention when I saw him there and his eyes literally lit up when he saw me. Excusing himself for a minute, he made a quick phone call before rushing me into one of the secluded rooms. We went straight to work with no small talk, indicating he was in a hurry. However, as soon as we discussed my problems and he gave me a few to do on my own, his hands started to roam. It was over my breast at first, as it had been in the past. I moved my body around to try to avoid him and brushed his hand away. He turned his chair sideways so he was facing me from my right side and draped his left hand over the back of my seat, putting him very near me. Anybody walking in would have thought it a little inappropriate, but nothing outrageous.
I was not surprised when his right hand arrived at my knee, but still was not prepared and jumped a little. I reached down quickly, grasping his hand and saying, "Don't, Chris." He didn't answer, leaving his hand where it was but rubbing gentle small circles with his fingers. All thoughts of math were gone now. As I concentrated on blocking his hand from advancing up my leg, I hardly noticed the one behind my back slowly sliding under my left arm. Very softly and smoothly, he cupped my breast over my blouse. His fingers took my nipple and slowly teased it, bringing it to an immediate full attention as I felt it swell with the manipulation. I placed my left hand over his, as if that was doing any good.
His hand had managed to persistently creep up, giving my leg a full massage now with his hand rather than the light brushing with his fingers that he had been doing before. Slowly, oh so ever slowly, he moved it up, taking my hand with it. The soft kneading of the inside of my leg, along with the constant taunting of my nipple, was getting to be much more than I could take. I started to move softly with his hands, eyes closing slightly, the fingers on my left hand starting to slowly move over his hand in a small, approving gesture as he continued to please my nipple. My grip on his right hand was no longer a defensive tool, but more a futile attempt of denial.
The brush against my thong was hardly noticeable at first, barely a wiping touch of his fingernails. Sneaked in between the powerful feeling of his full hand on my leg and the ever-growing sensation of my nipple, I almost missed it. But, I didn't. A light sigh came out of my mouth through the quickened breath I took, matching the small unwanted but grateful gyration of my hips. He felt it and immediately increased the speed and pressure he was applying to my nipple. I reacted to his hand on my breast by grasping his wrist, rubbing it slowly as I completely gave in to it. Again, the area of his attention switched, this time using his fingertips to brush fully up and down the length of my labia, one side at a time, teasing them ever so lightly through the cloth.
I closed my eyes and lifted my hips slightly from the warm rush I was feeling. Expecting him to brush my thong aside and enter me with his fingers, he caught me completely by surprise. Leaning over and placing his lips close to my ear, he simply said "Hi," as if seeing me for the first time today. I said nothing, not knowing what he expected me to say, drawing a blank, as my mind was totally captivated now with his touch. "How do you feel?" He asked, as if he didn't know.
I didn't know if he really expected an answer. When he sort of leaned around me with a quizzical look on his face, I knew he did. Gathering what strength and composure I had, I decided to be honest. "Good," I said with a very low voice, almost a whimper.
He nodded quietly, then did the expected and slipped a finger under my thong, sliding it deep and the entire length of me. I threw my head back and moaned, the invasion being a delayed welcome. "You're very wet," he said. "Do you always get so wet so fast?"
What was I to say? Here I was, opening and closing my legs in pleasure as he slipped another finger into me, my nipple on fire and begging. "It's been a long time," I whispered. "I miss my husband." There, I had managed to cover it truthfully.
"Oh, do you?"
"Yes." It was delayed and quiet, but the truth.
"You know, that's a little bit of a surprise." Giving the door a quick check, he surprised me by bringing his mouth down on mine suddenly, deep and full, and leaving it there for a long while as his tongue found mine and his fingers went deeper.
He pulled away. My thoughts gathered and I said "Why?" As if the answer really meant anything.
"Well, even before he left you acted like you were not being satisfied and was going hungry." I wondered how he would know that but didn't push.
"I was completely happy." That was my best response.
"I didn't say you haven't been happy. I said you weren't satisfied." His correct assessment caused my body to give a shudder. Was it so obvious that I could be clearly read? If he could see it, could David?
"Do you fantasize about others when you are with him?" He was whispering very low in my ear, as if this needed to be a deep, dark secret.
I had no intention of feeding his smirk with the truth. But when he took his thumb and forefinger and squeezed my clit suddenly, the pillar of strength I thought I would be turned to sand and I answered truthfully with a very low "Yes. Sometimes."
As if in unison, we both let out with a long "U-m-m-m-m-m," me from the twisting action he was giving my clit and he from the answer I gave which obviously was to his liking.
"Does he ever play games with you."
"Sometimes"
"What kind"
"Just little mind games." I could hardly speak through the fantastic sensation coming up from between my legs now. I was moving non-stop, my hips pressing back and forth on his fingers, my breast pressing against his palm.
"Not like that. Have you ever teased anybody? Have you ever involved another man or woman?"
I thought about it as best as I could. The overall sensation and situation at the time had fast wiped any inhibitions that would make me want to lie. Finally I said, "When we were driving here from Texas I teased a few truck drivers by letting my skirt rise up real high on the seat." I thought that had been pretty daring.
He smiled and laughed lightly. "That's a good start. Did he encourage you or did you do it on your own?"
"Both. I did it a few times when he and I were playing. But when I was driving and he was sleeping I did it a lot." I couldn't believe I was confiding in him this way, but his fingers seemed to make a very humble person out of me.
"Excellent! That means you really enjoyed it. Would you be open to a game that would really turn you on and nobody would put a hand on you?" To my disappointment, his fingers came out of me and went back on top of the flimsy cloth. He had come around in front of me, his face in mine as he waited for the answer.
Struggling with the departure of his fingers, I didn't know what to say. He seemed to recognize my indecision, so he started speeding up his fingers and tantalizing my clit through the cloth until he got the "Okay" from me he was looking for.
"Now?" He asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Let's do something right now. You have to absolutely promise to follow every one of my instructions, down to the smallest detail. I promise you that you will have an orgasm from it. Are you with me?"
With that, both his hands left me, causing me to be vocal with disappointment. He took both my hands in one of his and, lifting them high over my head, gave me a deep, deep kiss before going to my ear with his mouth. "Well?" He asked again.
I was doomed, not in the least bit of a mood to deny him. "Okay," I said in a very small voice, wondering what was in store.
He quickly collected our books and we walked to the door. "Wait a minute," he said. "Take off your panties and give them to me."
"What!!" I think my mouth may have stayed open.
"Right now. Take them off!"
I reached down and slid them down my legs, passing them to him and watched him put them in his bag. Without taking my hand but plainly expecting me to follow, he walked out of the department and went towards the administration building.
When we got there, we went straight to the snack area provided for the students. It's pretty large and at this time of the evening was full of people, mostly adults, coming in from work to attend night school. He led me back to a very small cove where there were a couple of video machines, obviously looking for an empty table. A young man who by appearances was probably a sailor saw us looking and gave us his, moving across from us to sit with two others his age that he obviously knew. We sat down, facing them.
"I'll go get us something to drink," Chris said. But, as he got up, he leaned over and whispered in my ear "They can see under our table. Open you legs a little and give them a show before I come back." With that he was gone, leaving me with an unbelieving look on my face. Surely he couldn't be serious. If he had, I certainly had a willing audience. As much as they were trying to hide it, my short skirt under that table was the center of their attraction. I didn't budge, keeping my legs closed and my skirt as far down as possible.
When he got back, he walked in front of me and took a quick look. The scowl on his face showed his disappointment. "All I asked was a little favor. Surely you can do just that!" he almost growled at me.
This was a side of him I had not seen. After a little more hesitation, I opened my legs a couple of inches. I didn't have to tell him I had. The look on those three faces said it for me. "That's better," Chris smiled. "Isn't this fun?"
Fun was not the word I would have used. I was nervous as a cat and was starting to sweat. When he said "games" maybe I wasn't fully aware of the ramifications.
"Which of them would you rather screw?" He asked softly. I almost jumped at the insinuation. My silence didn't please him." Don't act like you don't like them. Which one?" He demanded.
Caught in a game I wasn't going to win because I didn't know the rules, I finally blurted out "The one in the middle with the blue shirt." Two things happened when I said it. He leaned back with a little satisfied smile and I felt a little voltage between my legs.
"Great!" he told me. "Now, look straight at him and imagine him taking you in any way you want. Don't take your eyes off him at any time, even if he looks straight at you, which he will."
I had no idea how hard that would be. It seemed simple enough, but when I locked in on him and he returned the glare, I started shaking. I sipped my coke to break the tension, as did he, but to no avail. I was about to admit to myself that it was a bit of a turn-on when I heard his voice whisper under his breath "Open you legs wider." When I didn't respond, he said "Do you want me to put my hand down there and do it for you?" I got the message, opening wider and feeling the cool rush under my skirt.
"Do you think he can see your pussy?" He asked.
"No." I was honest. I might not have been so if I knew the consequences.
There was a noise right then not far away that drew the attention of everybody. Quickly Chris said "raise up and pull you skirt real high." Not wanting to draw his ire again, I quickly lifted and slipped it up so that it was bunched under me. Now having nothing to leave to their imagination, I closed my legs tightly. It didn't go unnoticed by Chris.
As the guys attention turned back to me with disappointment, Chris said, "Here's what I want you to do. I want you to keep your eyes open, look straight into his, and imagine him entering you very, very slowly. As he enters you, you'll have to open you legs for him. It'll take a long time."
I swallowed hard, wondering if this was not where I should call it all off. A game was one thing, but this was way out of line. "Remember, you said you would follow my every instruction," Chris could sense my second-guessing.
I gave in. It was harder to do with my eyes open than shut, and I felt like I had an audience, but my mind started to envision the scene. Without thinking, my eyes dropped from their faces to his crotch. Even from there I could see the bulge. I wasn't the only one in the game and he apparently was enjoying his part.
As I looked and my mind wandered, I let my legs open. Making small movements at first, I could tell as I glanced away and then back that I was really making a scene. Chris would occasionally glance down at me and nod with approval. I hated to admit to him, but it was slowly but surely taking its effect on me. That tingling Chris had left me with when he removed his hand from between my legs earlier was returning. I opened wider, feeling my ass doing a small gyration on the seat that I hoped was not visible. Chris killed off that thought when he said, " Your ass is moving. Feels good, doesn't it?" I nodded a mute reply.
By then, I was open enough to allow an interesting view. Their eyes, though intentionally glancing away at times to try to mask their interest, were glued to me. I could see their hardness, all of them. Suddenly, I realized that some of the sensation I felt was not just sexual, but power. I owned them right now. So this was the rush that Chris got from having me under his spell. I realized that in my squirming now I was trying to rub my thighs together in a feeble attempt to come. Chris was right. I could get an orgasm from this.
But just then, much quicker than it had started, it all ended. One of them looked at his watch and jumped up quickly, telling the other two they were late for class. I was almost disappointed when they left, leaving me swinging my legs back and forth in a motion that was gently rubbing my clit. As my eyes closed, Chris stood and said we should leave. When we walked out into the parking lot he simply gave me a little kiss and wished me a good evening as if nothing had happened. We went our different ways, him with a strange smile on his face, me with my wetness dripping down my legs.
We were about fifteen yards away from each other when he called back and said, "You haven't seen nothing yet!"
I could almost feel my wetness increase.
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