Green Dress
By CanadianTease
(c) May 2005


God, what is it with men?  I mean, a guy might have 
everything a reasonable person could ever want in a 
lover, and still his eye roams, he's never satisfied 
with what he's got!  My boyfriend, for instance.  We 
have a great time together.  I bend over backwards 
(sometimes literally!) to keep him happy - I do nice 
things for him, remember his birthday with thoughtful 
presents and surprise parties, keep him company when 
he's blue, and he gets the kind of sex  most men just 
dream about.  I know all his little kinks and 
fetishes, and I use them to give him pleasure.

For instance, he's a really quite a gentle guy, but he 
has this secret rape fantasy where he fucks a young 
girl who's tied up and helpless.  Sometimes I indulge 
him in this by letting him arrange me on the bed as 
his victim.  First, I get dressed up: a short little 
plaid skirt from my school days (no panties), a white 
blouse completely unbuttoned in front with nothing 
underneath, and frilly little ankle socks. (I guess 
you can see where he's coming from with this kink!  My 
eyebrows raised a bit when he confessed his little 
girl fetish to me, but I thought, what the hell, it's 
only a fantasy - and if it gets his cock nice and hard 
for me I'm all for it!)  I pull the skirt up and lie 
across the bed with my ass on a pillow, which arches 
my back and raises my pussy so it's exposed and 
vulnerable, then I pull my knees up and spread my legs 
really far apart (sometimes we use straps).  Finally, 
he gags me and I put my hands behind my back and 
pretend to struggle.  He stands over me smiling 
wickedly and stroking his cock, showing me what he's 
going to plunge into me when he gets it big and hard.  
When his erection is stiff and purple, he makes a show 
of getting it lubed up, so that I (his victim) know 
that his big cock is going to be able to slide into my 
virginal cunt with no resistance at all (part of his 
fantasy is that I'm a virgin with a very tight pussy).  
I open my eyes wide and whimper in fright, terrified 
by what is in store for me.  I struggle, trying to 
free my hands from behind my back, making my tits 
jiggle and bounce, which just excites my "attacker" 
even more.  Finally, he gets between my open legs and 
rubs his cock up and down my slit, taunting me and 
worrying my pussy lips with his swollen knob, then 
gradually slides it in, slowly impaling me with his 
glistening shaft.  He sinks into me millimeter by 
millimeter, while I scream and cry through my gag, 
thrashing my head from side to side.  As he proceeds 
to fuck me I buck and struggle, but my efforts are 
futile - my legs are held securely apart and I'm 
totally helpless.  The only effect of my frantic 
movements is to excite the "rapist" and give his cock 
more pleasure.  He's so deep inside me when he cums, I 
can feel him spurting right against my cervix.

Now, how many liberated women would do that for their 
men?

Another game he likes is "Greedy Masseuse."  He lies 
on his stomach on a table, and I start to give him a 
massage.  Then I tell him to turn over, and proceed to 
work on his chest and thighs, gradually getting closer 
to where he really wants to be touched.  As my fingers 
gently massage the insides of his thighs, getting 
higher and higher, I inform him that if he wants me to 
go further he'll have to pay me more.  He agrees (of 
course), and my fingers continue their progress up 
between his legs.  After gently manipulating his 
balls, my fingertips brush slowly up and down the 
sides of his straining cock.  While I'm doing this I 
tell him that if he wants me to continue, it'll cost 
him still more.  He groans in frustration, and agrees 
again.  Now my fingertips lightly feather the 
underside of his shaft, gently tantalizing his most 
sensitive areas.  By now he's moaning and sighing in 
ecstasy, and I methodically work to increase his 
pleasure and his need.  Finally I bend down and gently 
kiss his erection, lightly brushing my lips on his 
sweet pleasure spot just below the head, and give it a 
little lick.  I smile up at him and whisper, "The 
price just went up - do you want more?"  He's too far 
gone now to resist, so I proceed to butterfly the 
underside of his cock, flicking the tip of my wet 
tongue up and down the ridge, pausing to swirl around 
the head, then down to his balls and back up, over and 
over again, driving him mad with exquisite pleasure.  
When he's right on the edge, ready to spurt his load, 
in aching need of relief, I tell him if he doesn't pay 
more I'll have to stop.  Then it's back to tantalizing 
his cock with my tongue, and the torment continues.  
When he finally cums all over himself and my face, I'm 
a millionaire.

He gets to fuck me any way he wants.  One of his 
favorites (mine too) is with me on top - I slowly 
lower myself onto his erection, and smile down at him 
while I wiggle and twist around on his stiff cock.  It 
really gets him going when I lift and squeeze my big 
tits while I'm moving on him, licking my lips 
lasciviously and sucking my nipples, all the while 
rubbing up and down on his inflamed cock with my 
slippery hot pussy.  When we cum I cling to him, and 
he holds me by my hips as we cry out and moan in 
ecstasy, our mouths and tongues entwined together.  So 
sweet, so exciting.

Could any man ask for a better sex life, or a better 
lover?  So what does he do?  He blows it, that's what!

OK - so, a couple of weeks ago I was out with Gary on 
a Saturday night and we decided to go to this club 
that has a nice blues band.  We just figured we'd have 
a couple of drinks and dance a little, then go back to 
my place for some real fun.  I was feeling really good 
and looking forward to a great night, until we went in 
and I saw who was there.

Before Gary and I got together he had been seeing 
another girl named Anita.  The problem is, just about 
every horny guy in town had been seeing Anita, at some 
time or other.  Anita was a slut - a real, honest-to-
goodness, lowdown, boyfriend-stealing fuck-and-suck-
every-guy-in-sight skank-bitch slut.  When I met him I 
had no idea he had been wallowing in that bitch, 
otherwise I wouldn't have had anything to do with him.  
I only found out about it later, from one of my 
girlfriends.  We had a row about it when I confronted 
him with it, which ended with him swearing that he 
never wanted to have anything to do with her again, 
that she was nothing compared to me, that he loved me, 
blah, blah, blah.  I calmed down after a while, and I 
figured that it was no big deal if he made mistakes in 
the past - hell, I was glad he didn't know about some 
of the things I had done!

So we go into this club, and who should be there but - 
yeah, Anita.  Actually, if you go someplace where 
Anita is, she's the first thing you see, the center of 
attention, always surrounded by a crowd of guys with 
hard-ons.  She absolutely drips sex, and does 
everything she can to make every man in sight want 
her, want her very badly, so later she can take the 
lucky one (or two or three) home with her and fuck 
their brains out.

Tonight was no exception.  She was wearing a tight, 
very short dress of green satin, which clung to her 
large breasts and revealed her nipples as clearly as 
if she had been nude.  She had an incredible hour-
glass shape, with voluptuous hips and ass that had the 
men drooling as much as her tits did.  As she danced, 
every once in a while she would slide her hands up her 
hips and lift her dress, giving a brief flash of 
transparent nylon panties.  I had to admit that she 
was pretty, in a sort of carnivorous, Christina 
Aguilera way, grinning at the guys she was dancing 
with, licking her lips seductively, running her hands 
through her blond hair.

Gary and I danced a little, then sat down at a table 
with our beers.  He hadn't said much since we'd 
arrived, but I knew what he was thinking about; and he 
knew that I knew.  It was pretty uncomfortable, since 
the show Anita was putting on was impossible to avoid.  
She was dancing non-stop with guy after guy; it was as 
if they were standing in line for turns.  Then I 
realized that that's what they actually were doing, 
and I saw why.  As each excited guy came forward to 
dance with her, she would turn and rub her ass against 
his erect cock through his pants, bouncing up and down 
and giving him a good hot tease.  Then she would turn 
and move away, and the next horny guy would come 
forward for his little taste of heaven.

"Holy shit!" I said, "Can you fucking believe that?  
What a whore!"

He just mumbled something inaudible and looked down, 
blushing uncomfortably.  He looked like he wanted to 
be anywhere but there - but that didn't stop him from 
grabbing little peeks at what was happening on the 
dance floor, probably wishing he could feel that ass 
rubbing on his cock again.

"So what are you thinking about, Gary?  Old times?  
You gonna tell me that hard-on in your lap is for me?"

He was squirming now.  "No!  I mean yes - I mean I 
don't have a - oh shit, come on, please don't be like 
that!  I'm not interested in her anymore, she's just a 
slut, like you said.  I don't know why I ever went 
with her in the first place!"

I was fuming.  "Look, I'm going to the ladies' room.  
Go get us a couple more beers.  I'll be back in a 
minute."

He jumped up and escaped to the bar.  I headed for the 
ladies' room, not happy about how the night was going.

I stayed for a few minutes, trying to cool down.  I 
looked at myself in the mirror, comparing myself in my 
baggy sweatshirt and short denim skirt to the green 
dragon that was busy tormenting cocks out on the dance 
floor.  I knew I would look good in that dress, too, 
damn good!  But I shouldn't have to get dressed up 
like a whore all the time just to hold a man's 
interest.  I mean, it's fun sometimes, but I can't be 
like Anita all the time - and I wouldn't want to be.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I told myself that 
even in the sweatshirt I looked pretty sexy - my tits 
are as big as Anita's, and even though the sweatshirt 
is baggy you can see my shape in it; shit, I had seen 
men checking me out earlier tonight, you don't need a 
green slut-dress to get guys hard.  And my skirt is 
cute, too, especially when I sit down and cross my 
legs, "accidentally" giving a little peek up to my 
panties.  And hadn't Gary had his hand up under my 
shirt on the way here, stroking my breast and 
turning us both on?

I decided that I had been too hard on him; it wasn't 
his fault that Anita happened to be here the same 
night we came.  And who can blame him for looking at 
what she was doing - hell, everyone there was watching 
her; and even if it turned him on a little, well, what 
man wouldn't be?

I was feeling a lot better when I came back out.  I 
felt like apologizing to Gary for behaving the way I 
did, but I knew it wouldn't be necessary, he'd 
understand.  And I started going over in my mind all 
the delicious things I would do to him later that 
would make him forget all about Anita, oh yes!

When I got back to our table he hadn't returned yet, 
so I sat down and looked around for him.  I glanced 
toward the bar, and my attention was immediately 
captured by a flash of color, that voluptuous body in 
green.  She was at the bar, pressed up close to a man 
who was sitting sideways on a barstool.  His legs were 
parted, and she had positioned herself between them, 
smiling while she looked into his eyes.  One of her 
hands was resting on his knee, while the other was 
moving slowly and gently between his legs.  The man's 
eyes were glazed as if hypnotized, and his mouth was 
half open; he was breathing rapidly.  It was a few 
seconds before I realized it was Gary.

You can never predict how you're going to react at 
times like that.  I could have exploded in anger, 
burst into tears, run out into the street; or I could 
have hurled myself at them, ripped the dress off that 
fucking lizard and scratched her to shreds ... but I 
didn't do any of those things.  My mind became very 
calm; I'd had enough of emotional outbursts for one 
night.  Instead, I became cool, appraising.  I was 
disappointed, because I had been looking forward to 
sex tonight, but that wasn't to be, oh no - I would 
have to be satisfied with my vibrator this time.  
Fortunately, I thought, I have fresh batteries.

At the bar, Gary had noticed that I had returned, and 
he suddenly came to himself and pulled away from the 
verdant seductress, heading back to our table with the 
two beers in his hands, trying to look innocent.  She 
shrugged, and began to troll for another.

I thought of the pep talk I had given myself in the 
ladies room, building my confidence, reaffirming my 
affection for Gary, looking forward to our sex play - 
and I felt like a fool.  And god help the fool who 
makes a lady feel like a fool.

When he reached the table, I smiled at him.  "There 
you are!" I chirped.  "I'd wondered where you went.  I 
really feel badly about how I acted before.  I hope 
you can forgive me."

He sat down, visibly relieved, and we sipped our beers 
for a while.  I slipped off one of my shoes and 
reached with my foot under the table, gently massaging 
between his legs with my toes.  I smiled sweetly at 
him, and he gave a little moan of pleasure.

"Gary, let's go now," I said.  "I really want to be 
alone with you."

He didn't need any convincing, so we headed out to his 
car.  On the way, I snuggled up close to him and 
whispered in his ear that I loved feeling his cock get 
hard under my foot, that it had gotten me so excited.  
I reached down and began to stroke him through his 
pants, making his erection grow again.  He put an arm 
around me and I took his hand and put it up under my 
shirt, urging him to feel my breasts.  He moaned, and 
drove faster.

When we got to the condo that I rent with two of my 
friends, he parked in front.  He turned to me, with a 
look of desperate longing, and kissed me long and 
passionately.

"Please, let's go inside now," he said, "I need you so 
much!"

"Gary - this has been a long night ... I think I'd 
really better get some rest.  I don't think I'm up for 
a heavy session tonight.  The fact is, I just started 
my period today - I'm so sorry!  I probably should get 
to bed.  You don't mind, do you?"

He was devastated.  "But - but I thought - you said - 
damn!  Oh god, I'm so hot for you, ohhhh you don't 
know how much I need you right now!"

"Awww, I'm sorry Gary," I said, very sympathetically.  
"I really am tired, but we can sit here for a little 
while.  There's enough time for me to - to play with 
you a little.  Would you like that?  I don't want you 
to have to go home all hot and bothered."

He looked at me pleadingly.  "Ohhhh god, you get me so 
hot, I need it so much..."

"I know you do," I cooed, "I like it when you feel 
like that, 'cause then I can do things to you that 
will make you feel really good - would you let me?  
Please?"

He was beside himself with lust.  "Oh god yes, oh 
please, oh god ... "

"Good!  Even though we can't do any fucking tonight, I 
think you'll really like the things I'm going to do to 
you.  Now, just lie back and relax, while I work on 
your poor aching cock..."

He was almost drooling with anticipation while I 
unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and underwear 
all the way down to the floor.  I gently moved his 
knees far apart.

"Mmmm, look how hard you are already!" I exclaimed.  
His erection was stiff and sticking straight up, 
begging for attention.  I reached down and began to 
gently stroke the inside of his thighs with my 
fingertips.  "Now, don't you touch yourself, or me - I 
just want you to relax and let me do everything."

I gently brushed my fingers higher along the inside of 
his thighs, until I reached his balls.  Then I reached 
down and let my fingernails scratch very lightly and 
gently up from below and along the sides and front of 
his scrotum.  His cock quivered and I felt his balls 
get tighter under my touch.

I lay my head on his shoulder and whispered in his ear 
while I stroked his balls.  "Oh, look at that poor 
cock!  It needs to be touched, too.  Would you like 
that?  Would you like me to touch your poor aching 
cock?"

As I was saying this, I allowed my forearm to drop 
just enough to barely touch the underside of his cock, 
so that as my fingertips were gently stroking his 
balls, at the same time my wrist and inner forearm 
were just barely touching the underside of his cock, 
just below the head.  This, I had learned from 
experience, was his most sensitive spot, where he 
experienced the most exquisite erotic pleasure.  I had 
often lavished voluptuous attention there, with my 
mouth and tongue, but now I was teasing it 
unmercifully, tantalizing it with maddeningly light 
touches.  He began to moan and plead for more.

"Ohhhhh does that feel good, Gary?  Do you like that?  
I know you need more ... I'm teasing you on purpose,  
I love to get you worked up and frustrated like this!  
And you love it too, don't you - love to need it so 
much you'll go crazy if you don't get more.  Ohhh poor 
baby!  You need to cum so badly, don't you?

He was almost weeping at this point.  The tantalizing 
little wisps of pleasure I was allowing him to have 
were driving him mad with desire and need.  I brought 
my face around to his and looked into his eyes as I 
delicately stimulated his twitching cock.  My face 
took on an expression of concern and sympathy for his 
suffering, and I made little sounds of worry and 
compassion for his plight.

"Oh you poor thing!  I'm such a nasty cock teaser, 
aren't I?  You need to cum so badly, and I'm making it 
so hard for you to get there.  It's so mean of me - 
maybe I should stop.  Should I stop, Gary?"  As I said 
this I increased the pressure of my arm on his cock, 
which suddenly doubled the intensity of his pleasure.  
After a few seconds I stopped and moved my hand away.

He mouth opened in a helpless "Oh!", and he fell into 
frantic begging.  "No, god, please don't stop, oh god 
I love it so much, oh please I need it, it feels so 
good, I need more ...!"

"You want more, Gary?  Are you sure?  Maybe it would be
better if I stop ..."

He started babbling and moaning, begging me to 
continue.

"Well, if you really want me to do more, I suppose I 
could do this..."  My hand came back and I proceeded 
to run my fingertips rapidly all over his cock, racing 
up and down the underside of his shaft, giving it 
little squeezes, gently pinching the skin of his sweet 
spot and rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, 
tickling his balls, twisting my palm on the glistening 
head, slick with pre-cum.

I kissed him gently and looked into his eyes.  Never 
taking my eyes from his, I coated my hand with spit 
and gently took his cock fully in my hand and began to 
stroke it up and down, slowly and firmly.

"I'm going to make you cum, Gary.  I'm going to give 
you what you need so badly - but first I'm going to 
keep you on the edge for a long, long time, right on 
the point of cumming - ohhhhh you'll never want it to 
end!  Just close your eyes and concentrate on the 
pleasure..."

He closed his eyes, and I set to work on his cock, 
slowly stroking it and giving his most sensitive spots 
little erotic thrills.  I worked gently and 
delicately, taking care that he didn't cum before I 
was ready, getting him closer and closer to the point 
of release - but not enough to set him off.

He was moaning and sighing in absolute ecstasy and 
anticipation, looking forward to the incredible 
pleasure of his approaching orgasm.  I knew I had him 
right at the peak, where one swift, firm stroke would 
push him over the edge.

I paused, my hand hovering over his ravished cock.  
Then, I began to tap with a single finger directly on 
his delicate sweet spot, just below the head.  I knew 
the pleasure of that slight pressure would be just 
enough to hold him captive on the edge.

Tap, tap ...

"Gary, isn't it too bad that Anita's not here in that 
sexy green dress?"

Tap, tap ...

His eyes shot open. "Wha ...?"

Tap, tap ...

"Don't you wish that she was here, with her big tits 
and sexy ass, teasing you in her tight green dress?"

Tap, tap ...

"But, but ..."

"And don't you wish that she was here to finish her 
little hand job on you?"

I looked into his eyes and smiled sweetly.  "G'night, 
Gary ..."  I got out of the car and walked into the 
house.

Payback's a bitch.

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If you would like to comment on this story, you may 
reach the author at cn_tz@yahoo.ca


 
 
 
 
