2. Frustration

Transcript

Why is Lent so long anyway? I've found myself looking it up several times today, and quickly getting deflated as I work out there are 36 days left. I decide to move on to the next conquest, but my mind keeps drifting back to the swelling promise of Oscar's grip and the boldness of his tease.

I go on another Tinder date, this time with a fund manager called Tom. In my experience, men who work in finance are so much more crude and more direct that I feel certain I won't be disappointed this time. Still, I'm not taking any chances.

I paint myself with fuck me eyes and get dressed in a cotton t-shirt so tight and thin that it makes it impossible to look anywhere but my nipples. I pull the skirt from my date with Oscar over my legs and remember how easily he slipped his hands under them. As I pull the zip up, I hope the skirt is suggestive enough to work out better for me tonight.

In a way, it does. Banker Tom does not fail me in terms of enthusiasm. We meet at a noisy bar that is too loud for conversation.

He barely looks up from my chest during the few words of dialogue we do have and I feel my nipples get hard under his gaze. When he kisses me though, it is slobbery and greedy. I lean into the kiss and push my hips toward his.

He starts to paw at my skirt, groping hard on my ass. Bold and unashamed, he certainly is. Seductive, though, he is not.

I can't help but compare them, Irish Oscar and Banker Tom. The way Tom grabs my ass feels weak, despite how hard he has his fingers buried into my flesh. It feels like the grip of someone who wants something but doesn't know what to do with it.

As he starts to play with the idea of pushing his tongue in my mouth, I pull back from the kiss, excuse myself, and head for the bathroom. At this point, I need sex so bad that I'm throbbing hard between my thighs and breathing heavy just from the craving of it. I weigh up my options, but before I feel the decision land, I already have my phone in my hand and I'm texting Oscar.

He replies too quickly for me to reconsider. I'm not sure what I expect will happen this time around, but no sooner than I get this do I pick up my bag from where I'd placed it and leave. Address? I text him back as I walk out.

As I stand waiting for my Uber outside, my mind is so occupied that I forget all about the man I came here with. What was his name again? Tom? Bob? Ugh, anyway.

On the way to Oscar's, I feel the tingle return. I can feel an exhilaration on my lips, and I imagine him biting them. Sat in the back of the car, I notice my skirt is slightly hiked up so that my thighs are almost entirely exposed.

I readjust how I'm sitting and spread my legs wider so I get a gush of air across them. I feel the cooling of the heat between my legs right where they had just touched. As I feel how the heat on my thighs lighten, it builds up more excitement, like it's fanning the flames.

The ride to Oscar's is only about 20 minutes long, but I still have to fight the urge to touch myself the whole way. I rest my hand on the bare of my own thighs, keeping heat and tension there as placeholders. In my mind, I play scenarios that might happen tonight.

Is he going to break and give in? Is he going to tease me? How long can he hold out? Would he invite me over if he wasn't finally going to fuck me? Oscar says as he opens the door to let me in.

His tone is so calm that it immediately unnerves me. He paints the schoolboy smirk across his face. As soon as I am through the door, Oscar pins me to it, using my body to close it.

It is made of wood and iron, but mostly glass, so as I lean against it, we have a clear view of the street, and the street, a great view of us. Oscar pins me to the door, crouches down, and hoists me up on my legs so that each balances on his shoulders. I'm struck by how easily he lifts me up.

My body quakes and I feel tense all over, like I'm unable to let the breath out of me. I place one hand on the back of his head and rest the other against the door for balance. Still crouched down, he pauses to look up at me.

I keep wondering what he's going to do next. It should be clear from the fact that he has both my legs hoisted on his shoulders and his head inches from my crotch, yet I'm still not sure what he's going to do next. I can feel his breath as it falls and tickles my thighs.

I'm breathing short, heavy breaths as I look down at him and anticipate. Oscar finally breaks and buries his face into my skin, pressing his fingers into it and licking up the side of my thighs. He kisses his way up, and my breathing gets quicker and shallower.

He runs his hands up my thigh and manages to move my underwear aside with his thumb. His mouth follows his fingers and finds its way to my clit, but something in his hesitation tells me he is still teasing. He lifts me up again and places me back gently on the floor.

Without looking up this time, he grabs my underwear from either side of my waist and pulls it swiftly to the floor. He looks up at me again and taps my ankle. I take the hint and lift both my legs from my underwear.

Oscar picks them up, punches them up in his hands and puts it in his pocket. Then, he stands up straight, kisses me on the lips, turns and disappears into the next room. I wait alone in the hallway, still breathing heavily and expecting him to come back, but he doesn't.

I become very aware of how naked I am between my legs and my clit starts to throb for Oscar. I follow through to the next room. It's completely dark.

I make out the outline of the furniture in the room, with the light coming through from a door on the other side. I walk through the room, towards the light, and call out, Oscar? He doesn't respond.

For a moment, I actually worry that he's left and I cannot bear the idea of being frustrated in this way once again. But I walk into the room and find Oscar waiting for me. I glimpse down at his hand, which is buried still in his pocket, and I imagine him fiddling with my underwear.

This time, it is me that takes the lead and leans in to kiss him. The game is fun but my body cannot take much more teasing. I feel starved when his hands aren't gripping me.

As I kiss him, I take his right hand and lead it across my body exactly where I want them, tracing his fingers up my thighs along the route they had just explored. I leave it at the top of my thighs, trusting he knows what to do next. Oscar runs his fingers across me.

We kiss passionately as he plays with me for a moment, and I move my hips quicker and quicker as he does. He stops, pulls away, and looks at me with a look that seems literally to say, fuck it. He grabs me by my waist and lifts me up, holding onto my thighs so that they wrap around him.

He turns me around and drops me on the bed. He starts to kiss me again, running his hands across the bare of my nipples and gasping as he does. I still have my legs wrapped around him and he gently pushes against my hips.

I can tell he's starting to get carried away, but he catches himself and refocuses his energy. He moves himself down my body and starts kissing up my thighs again. Oh.

As soon as I feel his lips against mine, I shudder and start to quiver. He is relentlessly slow as he massages my clit gently with his mouth. It feels all the more exciting to know he hasn't yet begun.

I already feel how wet I am. From the way his lips glide more easily around my clit. He pauses, holding back just long enough for tension to build in me so I lie here with bated breath and a tense spine.

Oh. When he does break loose, he is fiery but precise. I've never met a man less afraid to get intimate with the innards of a woman's body.

He plunges his tongue into me, rubbing the tip of it against the roof of my vagina. I'm stunned by how pointed the sensation feels and I start to squirm violently. My clit hardens and feels full, loaded.

Oscar rests the thick of his tongue against my clit and runs the length of it against me. He raises his free hand up and caresses my nipples and returns with the tip of his tongue. This time to my clit, which he gently works away at in quick bursts, flicking his tongue against it.

Every now and then he breaks his rhythm to suckle at my vagina. And this is more than I can bear. I am shaking so much that I think I might cum at any point but somehow he keeps me on the edge.

Finally, he commits fully and wraps his mouth around my clit. I can feel the softness of his mouth against me. I can feel my own wetness as it spills across his face.

He pushes the hand that is still on my thigh further up so that it grazes against the soft skin around my pussy. My orgasm grabs me by the lower of my back and comes out in short bursts of loud gasps. All the while Oscar has the pointed tip of his tongue chasing my clit, making sure not to ease the pressure on it, even as I squeal, squirm and shake.

I'm not sure what Oscar gave up for Lent but evidently eating pussy isn't part of it. And thank God for that. Counting the days in my head once again, I realize there are now only four weeks left until the last day of Lent.

But given the events of this evening, I know it'll be worth the wait.