my absolute favorite thing is condescendingly talking you through it while you fuck me. but i love it even more when we go through our sweet routine to get there.
feeling your fingers slip underneath the hem of my shorts against my thigh, hearing your voice drop into that familiar, raspy tone when you're needy for something. it's my favorite, i can never resist it, and you know that. i'm addicted to your voice trying to coax me over. i love feeling your effort through kisses across my neck, and i love how eager you get to make me feel good.
and as if you'd expect anything different, i'd give in. spreading my thighs as the "okay" and chasing your mouth for more, needing to taste and feel you all over. lifting my hips and grinding against your palm when i feel your fingers against me, all while thinking of how i'd switch the dynamic. giving you that sweet, false sense of control that makes you malleable. waiting shortly before giving you the first instruction, barely breaking the kiss to whisper "put them inside" against your mouth. and the second your eyes land on mine, we both know it's over. as you ease your fingers inside of me, hazy eyes on mine, i can feel and see something instantly change. your steady demeanor falters the second you're inside, once you finally feel me. i'd lean in for another kiss just to pretend like i don't feel your jaw going slack while you work your fingers into me. feeling your breaths pick up as you try to fight against submission, but your strained moans and the grip you have on my thigh says enough. regardless, we both know i'll force it out of you.
we're complete opposites, too. my hands, tone, and mouth all so fucking gentle in comparison to your tense state. your staggered breathing, eyes screwed shut as if they relaxed—if you relaxed, you'd completely break. but, it's our routine. when you get like this—needy, eager to please—you don't care how you get it. all you know is that you want me to cum. and who am i to deny you of that?
i slowly coax that sorry excuse of control from your hands and take it into mine. nodding at you, pouting at how hard you're trying, how much tension is in your jaw. i can't do anything but pity you, honestly. pitying the innate craving thats confined in that pathetic head of yours. you're barely keeping it together, and it's almost impressive. until i talk.
"you're not even the one getting fucked and look at you. you can't even think, sweetheart. you need to make me feel good that badly? you that desperate to be a toy? all for me?"
tilting my head at you, noticing every bit of your focus narrowing in on my words, my voice.
"who are you trying to fake it for? i know it isn't me, and it shouldn't be you. we both know how much you need this. don't be stupid. just let go, baby. be dumb for me, get desperate for it. show me how good you are."
