Stockholm syndrome

Bringing Tom up near her face, she opened her hand.

Getting to his feet in her palm, “You are as beautiful as your namesake,” he praised, eyes looking from her eyes to her full lips and back.

Freja blushed slightly, shaking her head almost imperceptibly, “No,” she replied softly.

“Yes you are and I’m sure this isn’t the first time someone has made the comparison,” he assured, stepping dangerously close to the edge of her hand, peering over to check the distance to her lap.

Although humble, Freja knew she was pretty. It was as the tiny young man in her hand had said, others with ardent agendas seeking her favor had told her so.

“Hold still,” he urged, moving back a few steps before turning and getting a running start and leaping toward the cleavage near the collar of her open blouse.

Freja’s eyes opened wide at the sudden movement. She hadn’t expected him to throw himself in such a way. Resisting the immediate impulse to pull back, she instead shifted slightly forward, allowing him to land softly in the pliant soft flesh of her décolletage before leaning back in her chair. Bringing her hands up near her chest, “What are you doing?” she asked, restraining her panic.

Getting a handful of blouse, Tom reclined back on the slope of her left breast, glancing up and over his head at her, chuckling as the warmth of her skin permeated through him.“You could have fallen and been hurt,” she stated, trying to put her hand under him or at least cradle his body.

Seeing her trying to grab for him, Tom grinned, pulling himself under the fabric of her blouse and along the hem of the brassiere restraining her massive left breast.

His sudden disappearance halted her hands. She didn’t want to accidently squish or hurt him. “You should not be in there,” she said reproachfully, though there was a slight catch in her voice.

For his part, Tom pulled himself along, hands under the satiny material of her bra, fingers finding and moving over the sensitive bumps along the upper edge of her soft pink left aureole.

“You should not do that,” she protested, making no effort to move him away from her excited flesh.

“Why? What convention exists that forbids us from taking a moment to share in one another?” he asked, tracing his hand around the side of her tightening nipple.

“I have been entrusted with your care, your well-being,” she added, surprised by how her body was reacting to the things he was doing.

“Have you not been tasked to evaluate my physical and psychological condition?” he inquired worming his way closer to the hardening flesh of her aroused nipple.

Breath catching in her throat, “Such things,” she murmured,

Grinning wickedly to himself, Tom insinuated himself around her erect nipple, deftly stimulating it with his hands and other portions of his anatomy, tormenting Freja.

“You are a bad young man,” she accused, doing nothing to make him stop.

Squirming out from between her flesh and the brassiere, Tom pulled himself to the opening in her blouse and peeked out, making eye contact with the gorgeous woman. “Would you like me to show what else I can do?” he asked, devilish smile on his face.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she shook her head.

Despite her declination, Tom could see the internal struggle she waged. “Please,” he petitioned seductively, slipping out of the shirt and lowering himself down the front of her body.

“What if we get caught?” she asked, looking up toward the door.

Climbing over the folds of her skirt, he walked out onto her lap and turned back to face her. “We won’t,” he confidently assured with that irrepressible half-grin on his face.

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she nodded sharply once.

Tom nodded slowly. Turning back, he walked to the hem of her skirt, lying down on his belly before flipping himself over and landing on the inside of the back of her skirt before her smooth pale thighs. Moving up toward the juncture of her legs, he planted little kisses along the way, the scent of her excitement teasing him, making him hard.

Simple white cotton panties, a bead of moisture the consistency of honey seeping through the weave. Placing a hand to either side of the moistened spot, the heated flesh beneath radiating warmth into his fingertips as he kissed her there, licking the juices from his lips.

Sliding his hand to the side, he slipped his fingers under the elastic leg band, trying feverishly to pull it out to get at her privates but the way she was seated, he just wasn’t strong enough.

Feeling him struggling, she bent forward and her right hand up her skirt. Slipping her index finger under the leg band, she tugged it out, providing him enough space to grant him access.

Edging his body through the opening, he climbed into the space between her pussy and her underwear, pressing himself face first against the delicate folds of her outer labia. Fingers reaching up through the dewy flesh, he found her clit, the firm little nub of flesh about the size of a volleyball in his hands. Squeezing the hypersensitive tissue in his hands, he kneaded it, tugging it from side to side before massaging it.

Freja could not believe the intensity of pleasure coursing throughout her body. How someone so tiny deliver so much pleasure? His tiny fingers seemed locate bundle of nerves and touch her in ways no other person ever had before.

Tom continued to play with her, trying to wedge his legs in the groove of her sex to gain access to the opening of her pussy but he could tell by the way her body was trembling she hovered on the verge of climax. Rolling himself in amongst the slippery flesh, he felt himself getting close. Quickening his pace, he timed it nearly perfectly, coming just as her body shuddered in blissful release.