Erotic story: It's as if he's touching me, without caressing me
I turn my car into the parking space. When I open the door and the light comes on, I take a quick look in the rearview mirror. My eyelid twitches a bit, it's barely noticeable. I quickly touch up my lip gloss and grab my phone from the center console. My screen lights up. Are you there yet? It's Rick. I feel the nerves in my stomach, my heart has been beating a little faster than normal the whole way here. That one message after our conversation keeps repeating in my head. I want you naked in my living room.
The door swings open almost immediately after I press the bell. ‘Come in,’ says Rick. No kiss, no hug. He walks barefoot in front of me down the hallway, his butt clearly visible in his jeans and the collar of his white shirt sharply contrasting against his neck. The air between us seems to crackle a bit immediately.
Rick pours a glass of white wine for me. When I take it from him, his fingertips briefly touch mine. A shiver runs through my hand, up my arm. He smiles cautiously, the corner of his mouth lifts, but he doesn't look at me. The connection I feel with this man transcends everything. It's as if I can breathe a little less easily when I'm with him, as if the foreplay begins the moment we just see each other.
‘Undress,’ he then says. I feel my dress slide over my nipples, how the fabric gently brushes against my labia. I'm not wearing any lingerie. When I turn my back to him and throw my hair over my shoulder, I hear him slowly walk towards me. His fingers hook behind the edge of my dress and with his other hand, he gradually pulls the zipper down. Then he steps back again.
I turn to him and slide the straps off my shoulders. In one smooth motion, the dress glides off my body and ends at my feet. I step out of my flip-flops and stand completely naked in front of him.
It tingles under my skin, it feels almost like goosebumps. But then warm and deeper, palpable in my body. The feeling spreads from my upper arms, to the tips of my fingers, to my stomach and buttocks, through my legs towards the soles of my bare feet on the wooden floor. It makes my nipples hard, it causes my vagina to contract. The desire for him nests deep within me.
His gaze rests on my body and it seems as if the space between us doesn't exist. As if he touches me, without really touching me. I feel his hands already around my breasts, his cock already pressing against my hips and every little hair responds to his presence. The connection with him takes over everything, our bond seems almost otherworldly. I feel like he takes every piece of me, yet he still stands a little way away from me, merely observing me. I almost startle at the sound of my own breath as I softly exhale the air between my lips.
I see only Rick now. His eyes slightly squinted, the shape of his shoulders and muscular upper arms, the button of his white shirt that is just a bit tighter at the level of his chest. And without stroking him, without kissing his lips, I love every piece of him. With every inch of my skin, I feel him on me and in me. It's almost unbearable. I instinctively wrap my arms around myself, squeezing my upper arms tightly, because I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself otherwise. His breath lightly brushes against my cheek and I think I could come just from that sensation alone.
When I lean forward, my lips touch his. When I take one step, I can press my body against his body. But I don't do it. Everything I feel now, everything that hangs between us is better than a touch, deeper than a caress. I can barely control my breathing and it's as if he looks right through me, as if every thought, every emotion, everything in me is visible. Because he waits.
With my tongue, I wet my lips and I unconsciously bite my lower lip. And then I hear him groan, almost growling. I read on his face that he needs all his self-control. The desire pumps through his body, his muscles are tense. And when he swallows, his Adam's apple moves slightly up and down.
I think I could hear his heartbeat if I just listen closely enough. He loves me without words, without physical contact. With my eyes, I follow the shape of his face. I respond to the dimple in his chin, to the small scar on his jaw, to his slightly trembling eyelashes around his eyes.
And when I finally feel his fingers brushing along my lips, a moan escapes from my throat. It's as if my voice isn't mine, as if someone else is making the sound. All my arousal comes together in that sound, just from the feeling of his thumb on my lower lip.
Bedtime stories for women – Jip Isabel de Jongh and Adeline Mans
Spicy stories to read before bed or precisely when you can't sleep
Let yourself be swept away into a world full of desire, adventure, and surrender. In this erotic collection of stories, written for women by women, exciting encounters and secret fantasies come to life. Sometimes playful and recognizable, sometimes surprising, daring, and boundary-pushing. One thing is always central: the female experience of pleasure, in all its forms. The stories are short, spicy, and irresistible: perfect for a moment for yourself, just before the lights go out. But to be honest: some desires cannot be satisfied with just one story…
