Your Touch

I slipped my soaked panties down and lay on the bed. With a deep sigh, I spread my legs to give you full access and studied your every move.

By Anne Lomberg on March 7, 2024 -
Updated on June 8, 2024

Also available in German
Deine Berührung

You have that certain technique. With your dark curly hair between my thighs, you lit my fire, and I thought, damn, how did we end up here so fast, and who still talks to you on the street these days. You did. With headphones in my ears, I walked through the crowded streets of Hackescher Markt to get to my real destination, Bar Tausend. “Wait,” you indicated, and I took the headphones out of my ears. Again, just someone who wants to know how to get to a certain place. Nothing new; people always ask me for directions, but never has someone targeted me like you did, let alone asked me to stop my music and listen. “You caught my eye, and I just wanted to tell you that you have a beautiful style. I like the way you dress. It seems like you’re from another era. So compliments on that.” Huh? I looked at your boyish face and bright eyes before realizing this wasn’t about quick information but an attempt at flirtation. “Thank you.”, I replied briefly, but we started conversing. I was in a hurry, you noticed. I was already late, but you persisted. I didn’t miss how attractive you were; the way you approached me to stop left an impression.

I watched your full lips as you spoke, the black stubble curling with every movement, imagining them tickling my inner thighs before your mouth slowly made its way to my sex and your tongue buried deep inside me. Conversations veiled, the scent of big city consumption hung in the air, and I was already wet. Although I tried everything to end this chat and continue on my way, I could not deny our explosive chemistry. It came out of nowhere and unfolded into a hungry beast that wanted nothing more than to be taken in every way possible. I saw that same hunger in your eyes that radiated a certain familiarity. It was as if I was looking into a mirror. Dressed in a long wool coat, dark gray shirt, boots, and black jeans, it was you who completed our style. Heat rippled through my body, I felt it all the way to my bones, and for a moment, I forgot about the crisp winter air when you took my hand and brought it to your lips. “I don’t know about you, but I feel a strong urge to make this night ours,” you said with a mischievous grin while I sealed your words with a loud laugh. I admired your courage, after all, you were the young, unscathed deer, and I was the seasoned lioness in this predatory act.

Forgetting the commotion around us, we walked hand in hand to your apartment. Our desire led the way; nothing else mattered. Traffic lights didn’t matter, honking cars and angry shouts didn’t matter. Stairs and locked doors didn’t matter. Arriving, drunk for love, tasting the intimacy of neglected mouths, frantically making our way to the bedroom with sweaty fingers in already unzipped pants, that mattered. I let my fingers wander through your thick black curls and pulled your head back to look into your greedy eyes. How was this story going to continue? Who would take control? With sincerity on your face, you grabbed my arm, gently guiding it to the side, then got down on your knees. My unzipped pants became an easy game. You pulled them to my ankles and slipped your delicate fingers under the hem of my panties while your gaze never left mine. I contemplated that generous gesture; your pleading eyes revealed so much vulnerability and familiarity that I surrendered to your will.

I slipped my soaked panties down and lay on the bed, spread my legs to give you full access, and studied your every move. With one leap, you threw yourself over me, merely undressed from your jeans, and nestled between my thighs. Like a curious boy on a discovery tour, your eyes wandered back and forth between my sex and face. “Your pussy is beautiful, you know that?” you said as you ran one of your fingers along my labia and then entered my opening with just the tip. I closed my eyes, but you commanded to look at you. So I did. You buried your index and middle finger deep in my cunt and watched me go wild with desire, asking for more just by moving my hips. The sound of wetness manifested in my brain; rolling my eyes as you slid your fingers inside me over and over again. With quick thrusts, you announced the predictable. I splashed my ejaculate on the sheets, drenching our lust with pure euphoria.

Wild moans and squirting sounds echoed in the small room of your apartment as you brought your mouth to my sex to bathe yourself in my juices. You slowly pushed your tongue into my dripping cunt, wanting to collect every drop as you continued to massage the fiery spot of my desire. While my fingers wandered again into your thick curls, I pushed your head lower to feel the full length of your tongue inside of me. With rotating movements, you fucked me with your tongue and fingers while I gave you all my juices, sloshing from one orgasm to the next. My hands swirled uncontrollably back and forth in your hair, sometimes pulling you away because I couldn’t take it anymore; then you looked deep into my eyes to kiss my labia and clit and return to the original plan. I spread my legs wider and contemplated the perfect moment – you buried in my sex with your delicate, ever-thrusting fingers in my cunt. I remember the continuous sound of ejaculating desire, the soaked sheets, your sweaty shoulder blades, stubble tickling my inner thighs and labia, your black curls in my lap, and how I served orgasm after orgasm straight into your mouth. You lit my fire, and I thought, damn, you have that certain technique!

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