The mat

The last person had gone and I had locked the door. The home studio was empty. I sat on the mat in the rust set, curls damp at my neck, and Ryan came in from the hall with his shoes already off. He is my partner. This was our night, not a class. You said I could lead tonight, I said. He nodded. I want you to tease me, he said. I want you to make me wait. Edge me. I will tell you if I need to stop. I named the word we use. He repeated it, steady, looking me in the eye.

I had him strip and lie on his back. I stayed dressed and sat across his thighs, not taking his cock in my cunt yet. My hand wrapped his cock and fucked a lazy stroke along it, then stopped. His stomach jumped. Stay, I said. He stayed. I did it again, closer, until his breath went high, and then I took my hand away and touched my clit through the rust fabric while he watched. You do not get to cum while I do this. He said yes.

Three times I brought his cock to the edge. Three times I stopped, palm light on his chest. Please, he said, and I asked please what. Please keep leading. Please do not let me finish yet. That was the answer I wanted. I slid the rust bottoms aside and sank onto his cock, barely moving, a tease more than a fuck. He shook. I told him he was doing so well at holding still, and I meant the praise as much as the denial.

I rode his cock in short circles until I came, quiet, cunt tight around him, hands loose on my own thighs so I would not drag him faster by accident. Then I climbed off and made him wait through one more near miss before I finished him with my hand. When I said now he came hard, voice cracked, eyes on me. I stretched out beside him on the mat and stroked his hair, not his cock, until the twitching stopped.