“Mmm… you like this soft mohair knit, don’t you? It’s so warm… so thick… and it feels even better when I press it against you.”
“Keep that camera steady, baby. I want you to capture all of this. Every soft, fuzzy inch.”
She stands there in the snow, her breath fogging the air, her body wrapped only in a thick, oversized mohair turtleneck sweater that clings to her curves like a lover. Bright blue fishnets shimmer against her bare legs, the cold biting her skin while the mohair keeps her warm—and aching.
“Do you like watching your Mistress out here? Mmm… nothing but this big, soft sweater and these little blue tights. You’re hard already, aren’t you? I bet you are. Filming me like a good little pet.”
She runs her mohair-gloved hands slowly down her sides, pressing the sweater tight against her body, letting the deep fuzzy fibers mold to her breasts, her hips, her thighs. Her nipples are clearly outlined beneath the knit, stiff from the cold—or maybe from the thought of what comes next.
“You know where we’re going after this, don’t you? Back to the room. Back to the fire. Back to the ropes. I’ve got a whole pile of sweaters just waiting to bind you. Arms wrapped, legs stretched… mouth covered in soft fuzzy bliss. I’m going to tie you down in mohair, tease you, ride you—while your face is buried in Mommy’s wet, messy cunt.”
She steps closer to the camera now, her breath hitting the lens, her voice a low, delicious purr.
“You love it when I get like this. When I get all bundled up and mean. I’m soaked under this sweater, and you’re going to lick every drop until you can’t breathe. Then I’ll wrap you in my long mohair coat, make you mine, and leave you dripping and shaking under the weight of it.”
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