John was starting to lose his enthusiasm for Sasha's disinterest in the hand-job she was giving him, and decided that he'd start over with his idea. He wanted a moment to think. "Hey Sasha... I can see that you're not really interested in the hand-job you're giving me. Why don't you take a break and get a glass of water?"
"Okay," Sasha said casually, letting go of John's penis. She looked down at it as it waggled free. "Can I wait for you in the kitchen while you do whatever you're going to do? I didn't mind giving you a hand-job, because you asked nicely, but I don't really want to hang around if you're going to... um, masturbate... or something while looking at me."
John was really unimpressed with the execution of his last wish. "Yeah, just wait for me in the kitchen or something." After a second's thought, he added, "Why don't you pour a couple of glasses of water on your shirt too, to pass the time?"
Sasha shrugged indifference. "Sure, alright," she said with a nod and a smile.
Sasha left, and John thought about what he was going to do. 'Let's try that again,' he thought. 'I want Sasha to be enthusiastic about taking part in anything I suggest or initiate.'
'She is to be enthusiastic about taking part in anything you suggest or initiate?' asked the voice. 'Yes', thought John.
John decided that she didn't like the prissy attitude that she had shown earlier, either --- about having sex or about him masturbating. He didn't want her to be harshing his mood by being judgmental about things he hadn't happened to suggest to her yet. 'I also want her to be open-minded about sexuality, and not just what I suggest to her.' The voice repeated his instruction, and John confirmed it.
John thought for a moment about what he wanted to do with Sasha. The idea of the hand-job had been spontaneous, but lost its appeal. Sasha made some surprised noises from the kitchen, and sounds of splattering water gave him an idea. He put on some baggy boxers and sauntered into the kitchen, his erection hardening again.
Sasha's shirt, and the front of her dress, was already wet as she poured a second full glass of water over her breasts. She gasped slightly as it cascaded down and soaked the front of her shirt through: the water splattered on the floor.
She looked over casually. "That was fast," she said with a mischievous smile, until her eyes met the tent in John's shorts. "Oh, you're still up, never mind."
"Looks like you're getting wet, too," said John, testing the waters. Sasha snorted at the pun.
"Yeah, looks like I am. Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea: I look like I missed the dress code at a wet T-shirt contest," she said, indicating her wet blue-green shirt. "Hey John, sorry if I was a bit snippy back there --- I was trying to banter a bit, but I still haven't had breakfast yet, and am getting hungry. I'd like to go change my clothes and get something to eat, and then we can pick up where we left off. Would you mind?"
"Well actually," said John... |