I See You Shiver With Anticipation
You know those moments in your life when you were alone with someone you liked and you could’ve cut the sexual tension with a knife. The attraction remained unspoken and every single move closer to one another seemed to take an eternity. I remember the first time I felt the slow torture of anticipation. I was watching a movie at my friend’s house and of course when I say friend I mean my high school crush. THE high school crush to end all crushes I should say. He was the Jordan Catalano to my Angela Chase.
I think we were watching The Children of The Corn (the original version). He started the night on the chair opposite to where I was sitting on the couch. The tension was so high I could barely watch the movie. My entire body was tense and waiting for what would happen next. The first thing he did was get up and ask me if he could turn off the light. My voice cracking, I said yes. I waited, fifteen minutes after he sat back on the chair he asked me if he could sit on the couch. He sat next to me and inch by inch he slowly moved. I swear it took twenty minutes before I could feel his thigh against mine and another twenty minutes before he kissed me.
Every girl I’ve ever spoke to has experienced the come on that takes forever and when the moment finally comes you are so riled up there’s just no more holding back. To not touch each other would cause nothing but physical pain and that’s exactly what I experienced last week. After what happened I can’t get him out of my mind. We’ve known each other for a long time and although I’ve always been aware of the physical attraction we shared, it was never the right time. It’s still not the right time, but when we found ourselves sitting on my couch and watching a movie on mute we sort of melted into each other.
He started by massaging my hand, and then my arm. My body feel into his, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, I returned the favor and started to massage his hands and his arms. I wanted so much to slide my hand up his thigh, but I held back. We really shouldn’t have been doing what we were doing. Curled into each other, his arm nestled between my tits, my arm lying across his lap. I swear his dick was hard. I leaned my head against his chest and he traced the edge of my lips with his fingers. I parted my lips and let his fingers in, circling the tips with my tongue and gently closing my mouth on his index finger, sucking on it as he pull it out again.
The only thing he said “it excites me when you do that”. My nipples were hard and my breast were barely contained within my t-shirt. I thought about him looking down and staring at the spot where the red fabric cut across the curve of my tits and I exhaled watching them, as I knew he was, rise and fall with each breath. This lasted a very long time, an hour an a half if you ask me, until he slid out from under me lifting my head and laying me down on the couch. He told me he had to go home, but before he did he leaned over me and kissed me. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, more of a parting of lips, his tongue against my lips just long enough to make them wet. He took a blanket, covered me with it, said he had to leave before he wasn’t able to restrain himself any longer. He was walking down the hallway and I laughed, still under the blanket, I yelled out “did you really just cover me up so you could leave without looking at me?” I wondered if it was easier to walk away if he couldn’t actually see me.
After he left, I went to the bathroom. While peeing I saw that my underwear were soaked through. A wet spot the diameter of my fist. I hadn’t even noticed how turned on I was until he left. I went back to the scene of the crime, my couch, and saw that he had forgotten his hat. I picked up my phone, called his cell and it was as if nothing had just happen. He said he would pass by sometime to pick it up. I wanted to tell him how wet he had made me, but I didn’t. That’s all I’ve been thinking about, picking up the phone and telling him how much I want him.
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Oh wow, that was hot!
I remember my first few dates with my husband. It took him three dates to even kiss me. We would spend hours and hours on the phone, him talking about how much he loved kissing and how much of a turn on it was to go down on a girl. I wanted him so badly.
The night of the third date he pulled into my driveway to drop me off. We sat in the car for at least two hours talking. I was rambling on and on like an idiot because I hate awkward silences. I wished he would kiss me so badly. After a while I figured he just wasn’t going to do it. I said I needed to head inside and that’s when it finally happened. He leaned across the center console, his hand brushing my hair out of my face and pulling me into him for the kiss. His lips were so soft and it felt so good to kiss him. He slid his tongue into my mouth and his hands began wandering all over my body. We kissed for another two or three hours. I -know- he was hard. I wanted to just go ahead and have sex with him but I didn’t want to ruin things with him.
The hot, sexy kisses like that happened after every single date for a little over a month until we finally couldn’t stand it anymore. One night, after a movie, he pulled into my driveway again to drop me off. I climbed into the backseat and pulled him back there by his collar. We kissed forever and I just kept wishing he’d touch me. I wanted his hands on my breasts, on my thighs, up my skirt…everywhere! We spent the entire night in the backseat of his car and eventually wound up having sex that night. He headed home around 6 in the morning and I left my soaked thong in the front seat of his car.
We still do this sometimes. Both of us wanting each other so badly. He still gives me butterflies and it makes me too nervous to make a move. It’s really a bit strange to still have that feeling after eight years of marriage. =)
Holy fuck! That is sizzling! No wonder you guys are so happily married, replaying that scene every once in a while. There is something really hot about making out in the back of a car too. Oh, and the anticipation of waiting forever to have sex while the sexual tension builds and builds until you are ready to burst. Thanks for sharing!
Whoa! Hot! I hope I meet someone I feel that way about it.
.-= Olga Wolstenholme´s last blog ..I Love Getting Mail =-.
I suppose it’s somewhat related, but I guess one of my recent confessions is with the time I spent in between classes at my campus library. I sat there, in a heavily populated area, reading an erotica book I had bought online. It was definitely a thrill feeling completely turned on while being surrounded by all of these people who knew nothing about what was going on.
I love reading dirty books in public, like on public transit. It’s somewhat like being a silent exhibitionist or something, I dunno. I get really turned on thinking someone can tell what I’m reading, and is thinking of having sex with me, cuase I must be a horny little wench for reading smut on the bus.
I’m with Domina here. I like the idea of silent exhibitionism.
It reminds me of a scene in Mad Men when the girls are talking about the book Lady Chatterly’s Lover and there’s a secretary that had never heard of it. And she borrows the book and the ladies tell her to put a cover on it when she’s riding the bus so that people don’t know she’s reading it.
.-= Olga Wolstenholme´s last blog ..I Love Getting Mail =-.
That’s a very hot confessional, it sounds like an intensely frustrating experience. I hope it goes a little further for you if there’s a next time!
You’ve taken me back to my own Jordan Catalano. The guy at school that gave mixed signals, who fucked with my head never mind my body. He was clearly bad for me and that was the charm, why I wanted him so much. This was lust before I really knew what lust was.
We used to spend our free periods together, sneaking off to the local park. Sat side by side on the swings, or at opposite ends of the kiddies’ wooden bridge, talking about everything and talking about sex. He told me about his escapades with his friends outside of school, of the nights that ended in casual sex, that being so fit meant he had a lot of stamina. I was completely inexperienced in comparison, naive. And for such a long time we never even kissed, never touched, never held hands. I remember making him a bracelet out of string and feeling a jolt of electricity when I touched his hand to tie it on. Wishing I was brave enough to keep touching him, to let my hand travel up his arm and touch the face I had stared at for so long.
We finally had our first kiss at a school dance, when I was dizzy with alcohol and desperate for something to happen. It wasn’t magical, it was rushed and public, but it went some way to satisfy that need in me. He was too drunk, our teeth clashed and I discovered he wasn’t as good a kisser as he’d made out. I also discovered later on that he kissed other girls that night.
You’d think that would have been enough to put me off, but teenage obsession knows no bounds. We continued our dance in the park, still not doing anything oral except talk. I was living in frustration without understanding that’s what it was. It went on that way until a party and alcohol made me bold again. This time we kissed properly, sucking on each other’s lips and necks to leave those tell-tale marks. He slid his hands under my top, pulling down my bra and touching my breasts without really knowing how to touch them. I let him move his fingers beneath the waistband of my skirt, into my panties. His fumbling was enough to ignite my body, making me very wet but still unsatisfied. He used words again, this time to try and persuade me to have sex with him. I resisted. When he said he was going to the bathroom I realised he was really going to get condoms; I let him go, cleaned myself up and went back to my friends. After that I really did let him go.
Whoa! Hot. Isn’t it funny how you can read someone’s account of an experience and instantly relate it to one of your own? This is what I have loved best about Olga’s Cuntfessional posts and the contest, as how people spin off of one another’s tales… So in keeping with that…
There was this boy. I had such a huge crush on him. He was the neighbourhood’s sexiest guy (for girls 14 and younger). He made his rounds going out with a few of my friends, then eventually came my turn. I remember looking into his hazel eyes and noticing that one had this birthmark brown spot that was so unique, and in a way, very sexy. One day we were sitting on his front steps eating Popsicles and his older sister came out who was about 16 and asked me if we had made out yet. She said, “Don’t let him play with your boobies.” I turned 10 shades of red and nearly choked on my popsicle. Then, one day we were in my garage and he was pushing on this tire swing. I was sitting on the back edge and could feel his head-on pushing into me each time he caught me, pressing my back against him, then letting me go. He spun me around in circles until I was giddy with lust and laughter, then caught me so I was facing him and kissed me fully, open mouth on the lips for the first time.
I was so dizzy I fell forward in his arms and we ended up sprawled in the dirt. I had on a skirt that was way to short and it had pushed further up do to my fall. He had his hand on my bare thigh and was slowly moving it towards my ass as he kissed me. His other hand had somehow managed to fall on my budding breast and I could feel the sweat of his palm through my thin polyester top. My knees were scraped and snug, but I didn’t care.
Then we heard a car pull up and the garage door began to open. We jumped up and he ran out the side door while I brushed the dirt from my knees. We never made-out again. I wonder whatever happened to that boy. His name was Derrik.
It was an intensely hot AND frustrating experience. I”m sad to say nothing has come of it so far, but maybe like your story the anticipation would actually be far better than the experience itself, but then again it might be extraordinary.
.-= Olga Wolstenholme´s last blog ..I Love Getting Mail =-.
Olga… I think everyone can relate to this post… The anticipation as you wait and build up that sweet agony of tension. It is why the movie Twilight and the books have done so well, that tension of wanting so bad to touch, to taste, to fuck, but holding back… I always have loved the chase more than the actual catch.
Sometimes it’s the anticipation that gets us so aroused, deliberately making yourself hold back just heightens the sexual tension so that when it’s finally released the effect is mindblowing.
When I first agreed to date Phil I had been separated from my first husband for nearly 9 months. That was nine months of nothing more than self-pleasuring. Phil had seen me naked as I was supplementing my income by working as a life model for art students in a local college & Phil was teaching French there on the same evenings. He had spoken to me during the coffee break & manufactured an excuse to enter the life class while I was posing later that evening.
He spoke to that art tutor & seemed to delay his departure until the class was over & I had got dressed. We walked to the bus stop together & he asked if I fancied going for a drink sometime. Two nights later we were sat in a wine bar talking about all sorts of things, he was so easy to talk to. I think I knew then that I wanted him, but he was a perfect gentleman. At the end of the evening he walked me home & I offered my face to him, hoping for a kiss on the lips, but he kissed in the French way, a peck on each cheek. However, he held my hands as he did that & didn’t let go. We arranged to meet for lunch the next day (Sunday) & he took me to a delightful little French restaurant (surprise!). After, we went to his apartment for coffee & we sat together on the sofa. The conversation became a little stilted & it was plainly obvious that we were both thinking the same thing! I used the act of drinking the coffee as slowly as possible to try & delay what was becoming inevitable (not so hard in this case, being French he liked his coffee strong & no wimpy decaf either!). The trouble was, my body was saying one thing but my mind was telling me something else! I desperately wanted to go to bed with him but I was scared that he might think me “easy”. Then the swine completely took me by surprise by telling me that he found me attractive & that he really wanted to kiss me & make love to me! Honestly, I wavered for a while! My nether regions were threatening to take control of my feelings but my sense of decorum rallied & told him that while I fancied him too, we really ought to take it one step at a time. The trouble was, as I said that he looked me in the eyes & I’m sure he could see into me & knew what I really wanted! He caressed my cheek & said ok, I was in control & he would let me set the pace.
We carried on making small talk & when he asked if I wanted more coffee & I knew that we had reached some sort of crossroads: if I said yes & stayed we would probably end up in bed, so & declined & suggested it was time for me to go.
He came to the door with me & this time when we kissed it was on the mouth & deep & passionate. He put his hand in the small of my back & pulled me into his embrace, our groins pressed against each others & that was it! My defences collapsed. I thought ” fuck it, I have needs that have to be satisfied & I don’t care if he does think me a tart!”
I took him by the hand & walked back into his apartment. The smile on his face was infectious, I started grinning too & I told him that he had better not be about to do anything that would hurt me as I was still delicate following the breakdown of my first marriage.
You don’t need me to tell you what happened next, suffice to say that nine months of frustration came to an explosive end, all the more amazing because I had stopped taking the contraceptive pill & he had no condoms! We managed to satisfy our cravings without actually having intercourse! In a strange way, that made me feel better & a bit virtuous!