TSH backed me into the doorframe, trapping me in position with his body weight, a sure-fire way to turn me on. But rather than manhandling me, he planted a delicate, counter-intuitive kiss on my lips.
He teased me with more kisses, gentle and slow, backing off every time I moved into him. My body sang with pleasure. The cold, hard ridge of the doorframe forgotten. He circled his hands round my waist, working them beneath my top. Pulling me forward, he tugged my top off, me raising my arms to let him. I thought he might turn it into a combined makeshift gag and arm cuff as he sometimes does, but instead it sailed across the room, landing in a heap on the floor, quickly followed by my bra.
He played with my breasts, again just enough to make me want more, not enough to hurt me. And he grabbed my nipples, deep rolling pinches that felt so good, yet again, designed to turn me on and make me wet and wanting. It was a beautiful seduction.
My jeans came off next with my panties, sliding down my leg until he told me to step out of them. I did and earned a “good girl.” Again, seduction. He backed me up again, his dick straining through his jeans as he pushed against me. Kissing, teasing, turning us both on.
And then he spun me round, raising my arms so my hands met above my head. “Hold,” he said, in my ear. I heard the characteristic unzip of his jeans, spread my legs as he pushed them apart and moaned as he slid straight in. I kept hold of the door frame as he pulled my hips back towards him, bending me forwards so he could fuck me deeper. He rested back on the opposite side of the frame. He barely moved, letting me slide myself up and down his hard shaft.
All the while, I held on. As he fisted a hand into my hair, as he ran his nails up and down my back in lovely long scratches, as he gripped my hips harder. I never let go, moaning in pleasure and rocking against him as he used me to bring himself ever closer to climax. It was a delicious game.