You little hussy!

Seems I am getting a bit of reputation as a tease, and not unjustly. I get a huge buzz out of tease and denial, almost as much as with being in control (or losing control; I am not fussy.)

A couple of years ago I had this date with a musician. By sheer coincidence my friend R. came to visit me that same afternoon, so I got him to help me get into my red lacy basque and black nylon stockings. Then the phone rang. It was the musician trying to locate my home. When R. realised what was happening, he cried: 'You little hussy! You got me to come all the way here to get you ready for another man!'

Despite his protestations, R. was intrigued; I could see it in his eyes.

The two men met at the door and regarded each other with suspicion like two animals vying for the alpha spot. I think the musician felt a bit intimidated by R. because he behaved impeccably all evening and did not even try to kiss me. Perhaps he thought R. was my man and due to come back any time - who knows!

Another time, another house. I am waiting for a stranger to come give me a massage and R. is there for safety. Then the guy arrives with his lotions and potions and bags of enthusiasm. We have tea and R. grills him. The man seems friendly but is not too bright. We go upstairs and I get on the bed. R. is leaning against the bedroom door watching this stranger undress me slowly . The stranger's hands are trembling. I feel the mattress give way as he climbs over my legs; oil is being poured on my back. Then the man's hands begin kneading my flesh. I am putty in his hands. I moan ever so reservedly. I don't want to scare my masseur with my intense reactions to his touch. When the guy's hands reach between my thighs, R. retires downstairs. Later on he reveals to me that he got turned on but was unsure of what to do. 'Silly, boy!' I admonish him, 'you should have listened to Mother Nature and taken part...'

And a last anecdote from my time with R. He's visiting me, I am very horny, we start petting and we end up with his hand inside me. Then the doorbell rings. It's a delivery. R. quickly withdraws, wipes his hand on some tissues and opens the door to sign for the package. Then proceeds to shake the guy's hand being all polite, whilst I am choking on the sofa with suppressed laughter.