Wednesday, October 31, 2012

May I?

Flip me over, force me face down on the bed. Yank my jeans down and imprison my legs.
I'm not ready for you yet, but push my panties aside and shove your fingers inside me. You'll fit tightly, driving a rush of passion through me, driving a gasp from my throat. Whisper dirty things in my ear; make me blush.
Fuck me, from behind, one hand around my throat. It will be exquisite torture to have you so close, but so inaccessible. Impale me with your fingers, press into me, fuck me until you drip sweat and gasp for breath. Leave me sore and bruised; a pleasant reminder the next day of how deliciously we came together.

Make me beg you for release. I won't come this way, so you can prolong my begging for as long as you'd like. Leave me unsatisfied and demand that I please you. Require me to ask permission for every move I make. In a soft, pleading whisper - may I run my hands through your hair? May I kiss your earlobe? May I bite a trail from your jaw to your breast? May I unbutton your pants? Spread your legs for me, may I lay between them? May I fuck you, fingers gliding inside you, mouth devouring you? May I moan my pleasure at your permission for this privilege? Know that any denied request would break my heart. Know that your taste, your noises, your movements whip me into a frenzy, and a single touch could spill me over. Come for me. May I watch you redden, writhe, tense? May I lose myself in your noises? May I?

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