Started off with you straddling me, telling me about your day. I’m not really listening; not when you’re in a summer dress with nothing on underneath, practically begging me to tease that sweet pussy. Your nipples are poking through the thin fabric, and all I can think about is how easy it would be to slide it off you
You claim you’re straight. Not a lesbian. You don’t want this
But it happens all the time
I take it as a challenge; seeing how long you’ll last before your body gives you away again
My fingers slide between your thighs, brushing slow, lazy circles over your throbbing clit. Just light enough to make you twitch. Just enough to remind you who you belong to
You falter. Breath catches.
“Keep talking,” I murmur, lips brushing your ear. “I’m listening.”
My other hand slips under your shirt, teasing your nipples; rolling them, pinching just a little too hard. I know how sensitive they are. I love how you gasp and flinch, still trying to be good, trying to behave, trying to keep your image intact.
Too little, too late, slut.
And I can feel how soaked you are. Wet. Dripping. And I’ve barely even touched you.
I dip a finger in; just enough to make your breath hitch; then pull away again. Back to your clit. That same cruel, steady rhythm keeping you right there on the edge.
You squirm in my lap, trying to keep talking, eyes glazed, breath shaky; not even realising you’ve said the same sentence three times now.
“What was that?” I whisper. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
Two fingers slide in; slow, deep, curling just right. Your body tenses. That helpless little gasp breaks free. You can’t pretend anymore.
“Please… I can’t… I’m not… I—” you whimper, but your hips are grinding down against my hand, desperate, hungry, like your body’s already made the decision for you.
I smirk. I rip the sundress off you, exposing everything.
“That’s better. But I want more.”
My mouth finds your nipples now, sucking, biting just enough to make you moan. Fingers thrusting faster, deeper; dragging you to the edge, then holding you there, again and again.
Lazy, slow circles over your aching clit. Fingers sliding in, curling for a few thrusts; then back to the clit
Tease. Punish. Reward. Repeat.
Just enough to drive you insane
Just enough to keep you begging without even realising it
You’re trembling now. Legs shaking. Mouth spilling broken, filthy sounds you don’t even hear yourself make
A perfect, needy mess My perfect, needy mess Exactly how I like you
