Making you wait

CONTENT NOTE: Sexual fantasy theme.

What if I told you, you couldn’t touch me? What if I told you just to watch? What if I told you that I’m naked, bare for you, pleasuring myself for you, but you couldn’t do a thing about it?

What if I told you to sit down in the corner of the room, make yourself comfortable, and watch me slowly strip? Peeling layer by layer off on to the ground, and perch myself on the bed in nothing but my lingerie. Watching me feel the silken sheets, arching my back, pointing my feet you love to kiss, running my fingers up my legs to that special place you love to taste.

What if I told you, you can’t touch me? Even when I slink out of my panties and present my pussy bare and shaved, just how you like it, just for you. When I slick my fingers with lube from the bedside table and run them over my lips, back and forth, massaging my clit.

My eyes never leave yours as I watch you grow more aroused. You loosen the blue, striped tie around your neck and undo to the top button. Tingles dance through my toes, delicious silken warmth permeate through my body from between my legs.

I watch how you struggle with yourself, fighting the white-hot urge to unbuckle your belt and put your hand around yourself. Or the tension in your legs, ready to spring up and over to me as soon as you get the green light.

Will you? Won’t you? You don’t know. And that’s what kills you. You want so badly to have your way with me. But you’re going to have to wait.

My breath quickens, my pleasure builds. All the while your jaw is clenched, your chest rises and falls. You stare at me with a dark, primal hunger that tells me: the second you get your hands on me, you’re going to rip me apart in the most libertine, orgasmic way. I want that.

I want you to fuck me until my eyes roll into the back of my head. Pull my hair, bite my neck, own me to feed your masculine need to claim the woman that is yours. I am that woman, and I am yours. I’m just showing you exactly what you can’t have, until you can.

I shudder, and pant, feeling the rush possess my body as I orgasm, hard, hearing you growl while a throaty ‘Fuck…’ leaves your lips. The lube slicks with my wetness and my breath steadies.

‘Well then,’ I say. ‘What are you waiting for?’

Masturbation Monday

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

24 thoughts on “Making you wait

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