Welcome to my new series – brand new, short pieces of erotica. Because who doesn’t love a little bit of spice in their life? 🙂
My cup of tea
‘Sit yourself down.’
He pointed to a small sofa and I did as he asked. I looked up at him and came into direct contact with his gaze. His face flushed, but our eyes never lost contact. There was a spark in his that caused a pang between my thighs. It lingered, leaving me squirming beneath my gypsy skirt. I smiled, and he sat next to me. His knee brushed mine and he held it there. I watched his throat rise and fall as I pressed my lips together into a little rosebud and tilted my head to look at him. I don’t know who leaned in towards who, but I could feel his breath on my face. I let out a little gasp as a quiver ran down my spine.
‘I’ve got something for you to try. I’d love to know what you think.’ He smiled and turned away, wandering into the kitchen, calling, ‘It’s spicy chai.’
‘Anything spicy is good by me.’ I laughed. So did he, and he threw me a look over his shoulder that made me flush from the inside out. I wondered what he would do if I told him exactly what I’d been thinking all day.
He made the tea in full view of me. I watched him, my mouth going dry at the sight of his backside in those black stonewash jeans, moving from side to side as he reached for different items on the worktop. I began playing with the buttons on my top as warmth radiated from between my legs and into my belly. I watched his shoulder blades moving beneath the t-shirt he had bought while we were out together earlier. He had changed in the street, right in front of me and, as he’d stretched up to pull it over his head, I’d noticed his jeans slip downwards, exposing his hip bones. It had made my stomach do somersaults then, and the thought of it now left me struggling to sit on his furniture without screwing myself into it and trying to take the edge off the feeling that was building every time he moved.
He turned around with two cups in his hands and walked back over towards me. All I could think of was the sight of his half-naked body hours before. My head ran away with how it might feel, sliding my hands up against his stomach and onto his chest; one hand trailing over his neck until it wrapped around the back of his head, pulling him close as my other drifted towards the zip of his jeans.
I bit my lip hard as he stood right in front of me now, and took a couple of deep breaths to steady my fingers before attempting to take the cup from him. All I could see, level with my eyeline, was his belt, and the sight of his crotch. He must have noticed me looking. And I was sure that he was growing inside his jeans as he got closer. I swallowed, the tingling between my thighs rising to create an ache that began to fill me. I risked glancing up at him, to find him looking right at me. He handed me my cup, and sat back down, his knees pressing fully against mine.
I drank the tea without really thinking about it, or the fact that it was ridiculously hot, the thought of him bulging inside his jeans playing havoc with every part of me. I sensed his eyes wandering over the V-shape of flesh that was exposed by my top.
‘I’ve got hot hands now.’
His voice dropped to almost a whisper. ‘Have you now?’ He took my hand and put it to his cheek. ‘So you have.’ He let go, and my palm drifted down his neck and came to rest on the front of his t-shirt. Cinnamon floated in the air between my face and his. The space between us grew smaller.
‘So. What do you think? Do you like it?’
I tilted my head and looked at him as he reached out to take my cup from me. His eyes kept flitting back to my face, lowering to the almost undone button on my top. I stroked it, barely touching it when it undid completely. His lips opened and his breath became heavier as his fingers clasped my cup. My fingertips unwound from the handle and touched his.
‘Uh-huh. Very much.’
His mouth was almost on mine. I drank in the smell of his aftershave, the spices in the air, the touch of his finger down my cheek.
‘Good. Would you like a bit more?’
‘You have no idea.’
His arm slid around my back, pulling me to him so that my breast pressed up against him. His words made me quiver as they brushed my ear. ‘Are we still talking about the tea?’
My mouth found his, revelling in the softness of his lips, my tongue tentatively exploring the spice that lingered. His palm hovered over my top, brushing my bust. I pushed his hand inside my top and he slid it into my bra. His hands were hot, too. Every part of him was hot. My fingers lingered on his jeans, working their way from his thigh to the zip. He wasn’t just hot. He was rock hard.
The cup fell to the floor. So did we. I didn’t need to answer for him to know exactly what I thought about anything he wanted me to try.