Straddling His Lap Novels & Stories

HIM: I might fall for you! HER: [sits in your lap and wraps arms around neck, teasingly rakes through your hair from behind] Oh? What if i want that to happen? HIM: [purses lips and grabs your waist] Oh? You'd have to take responsibility then. [closes in... sniffs your hair] HER: [oh-haah~ slides hands upwards in your hair with a soft chuckle] I will take the responsibility if you allow me. Do you? HIM: [Smirks] My my, you sure are bold... but perhaps i can give you the chance. [blushes] My lady!

All he did was stretch hishandout behind him so I wouldn't reach it while laughing, probably feeling good about the fact that he has ape arms. I tried to move further so I could grab the remote but I only ended up falling on his lap and my head slightly hitting the arm of the sofa. I got up as gracefully as I could to face a laughing Ryan. Idiot. It was when his laughter died down before I noticed that one of my knees was on one side of his thigh and my other knee was on top his his other thigh. He casually placed his hand on my thigh and readjusted me so that I was basically straddling him.

I moaned into his mouth, fingers digging into his shoulders. We stumbled toward the wide leather couch without breaking apart. I straddled his lap as we sank down, my dress riding high on my thighs. Marcus groaned, hands roaming up my legs, pushing the fabric to my waist. He cupped my ass with both palms, squeezing as I rocked against the rigid length straining his jeans.

I lifted my legs to allow him access, but he shook his head. "Wait," he said, "I want to try something different." Pulling me back up off the bed, he knelt on the floor facing me, then maneuvered me onto his lap and had me straddle him. His cock brushed enticingly against my bud. "Ready?" he asked. I nodded. Slowly he slid into me. I tilted my head back, relishing the slight burn and the sensation of being stretched and filled.

Desired. My hands moved up, cupping my breasts, squeezing gently as I danced. I arched my back, letting my head fall, hair spilling down my spine. A low groan escaped him. His leg shifted, adjusting himself, and the sight of how hard he already was made heat flood between my thighs. I moved closer—slow, teasing steps—until I was right in front of him. Then I straddled his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and started giving him the lap dance he’d been waiting for.

He took off his jacket. “Come here.”He said, his voice commanding. I stood up, leaving the safety of my robe behind, completely and I walked over slowly to him. He took my hand and I could clearly see the bulge in his pants which got me more excited. “Sit here.”He said and pulled me down to his lap. I started to sit on his laps like I would on a bench… “No, straddle me.”He ordered. I paused, then lifted one leg over him and sat on his lap, facing him.

I think to myself. As she starts to step back, he grips her wrist and pulls her back to him. “Lap.” He states simply. “Sir, I don’t think that is appropriate.” She is trying to say no, but how can she? “You will do as I say.” At his words, she turns slowly to perch on the edge of his lap. “No. Straddle me.” I want to be sick. How could he do something so malicious to her? Doing the only thing that I can, I look away from the pair of them and close my eyes. If I pretend I am asleep, maybe he will leave, or at least leave her alone.

“Let me ride you.” Fuck. I sat back, pulling him onto my lap. He straddled me, lining up, then sank down slow. The stretch made him gasp, head falling back as he took me inch by inch. “So big,” he whimpered, but he didn’t stop until I was buried to the hilt.

“You should go to bed too.” I looked at him. “Should I?” His jaw worked. “Yes.” But he didn’t look away. I unfolded myself from the couch. Stood. Let the blanket fall. Walked over to him slow. He watched every step. When I reached the armchair, I didn’t sit on the arm. Didn’t perch like some innocent thing. I climbed straight into his lap. Straddled him. Knees sinking into the leather on either side of his hips. His hands went to my waist automatically. Gripping. Holding me there.

“You’re incredible.” Jasper backs up and sits on the couch. He motions me over and tugs me between his thighs as he says, “Someone mentioned a lap dance. I assume it’s my lap we’re talking about?” His fingers hook under the elastic of my underwear, and the silk scrapes against my legs as he pulls them down. I kick them off my feet. “Definitely your lap, but I’m not sure how it’s usually done.” The sofa sinks under my knees as I climb on to straddle Jasper’s thighs. “Although we’re smart, and I think we can figure this out.”