Don’t Touch Yet-Traci’s Teasing Game
Waiting makes it better, when I tease you slow and shameless, letting desire twist you up until you’re practically vibrating under me.
I’m perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, legs crossed high, long blonde hair rolled into that perfect victory-roll style, blue eyes glittering like I already know every filthy thought in your head. My polka-dot halter top is tied so tight my big, heavy boobs are practically spilling over the sweetheart neckline—nipples poking hard against the thin cotton. My little waist flares into wide hips hugged by high-waisted shorts that barely cover the bottom curve of my nice, round ass. These long yoga-toned legs dangle, red heels swinging lazily.
“Hands behind your back, handsome,” I drawl, popping my gum. “No touching the merchandise till I give the green light.”
You’re standing right between my thighs, cock already straining against your jeans, eyes glued to the way my tits rise and fall. I lean back on my hands, arching so my chest thrusts forward, the top button straining.
“Like the view?” I purr, slowly tugging one strap down my shoulder. The fabric peels away just enough to show the creamy upper swell and the dark edge of my areola. I bounce once—deliberately—making them jiggle. Your breath catches.
I slide a finger down between my cleavage, then lower, hooking it into the waistband of my shorts and tugging them down an inch. Just enough to show the lacy edge of my panties and the tiniest peek of smooth skin.
“Bet you’re dying to bury your face right here,” I tease, spreading my thighs wider so you can see the damp spot already darkening the cotton between my legs. “But nope. You wait.”
I hop off the counter, turn around, and bend forward—hands braced on the edge, ass high, shorts riding up so the bottom curves of my cheeks peek out. I sway side to side, slow and obscene, letting you watch my yoga-firm ass flex.
“Poor baby,” I coo over my shoulder. “All that desire and no relief. Look how wet I’m getting just torturing you.”
I reach back, slide two fingers under the crotch of my shorts, and pull the fabric aside—showing you my slick, swollen pussy lips, glistening and needy. I rub slow circles over my clit, moaning loud and theatrical.
“Mmm… feels so good. Wish you could taste it. Too bad you gotta wait.”
I straighten, spin back around, and step right up to you—close enough that my hard nipples graze your shirt. I grab your wrists and guide your hands behind your back again, pressing my body flush against yours so you can feel every curve, every hot inch of me.
“Be a good boy and keep those hands where they are,” I whisper, lips brushing your ear. “I’m gonna ride you soon… but only after you’ve suffered beautifully.”
I sink down slow, dragging my wet heat along the bulge in your jeans, leaving a shiny trail.
You know it does.
Good choice. Now behave.
Traci