He said he loved my glasses.

I said I was out of his league. I laughed. We talked. Minutes became an hour, then two. I fell in love with his voice, with the way he moved, with the way his attention was always on me, right up until closing time.

He said he would like to see me again.

I said come back to mine. We’ll talk some more, have coffee and watch trashy TV until you’re too tired to stay.

We didn’t watch TV.

We watched each other. We danced with our eyes, with our words, with our body language. We both knew where it was heading.

He waited for me to make the first move.

I loved that.

I leaned in and kissed him, then took him through to my bedroom. I undressed him. He undressed me. I sat on the edge of the bed and took his cock in my hand.

He bit his lip. He breathed a ragged breath.

I slid my fingers along his length, touched my tongue to the tip of his cock and lapped away his precum. I giggled at the ecstasy on his face.

He told me I was beautiful.

I didn’t answer. I took him into my mouth. I held his thighs. I nipped playfully at his abdomen, reaffirming my dominance when he began to drift. I kept him on a knife edge with my mouth while my fingers stroked between my legs.

He said he was ready.

I told him to do it. I waited. He exploded. Speckles of cum on my glasses, on my breasts, on my lips.

I lay back, filthy with him. He climbed on top. We made gentle love.

He gathered me into his arms.

I fell asleep curled into his chest.

Written for Masturbation Monday Week 178. Head over there to see the (HOT, NSFW) image that inspired my post, and a whole host of other erotica short stories from your favourite smut writers!