my shayla… my beautiful shayla… i’m thinking of bachira who has been edging you for hours, keeping you right on that cruel glittering edge until your whole body feels too sensitive to belong to you anymore… you’re crying and sniffling, thighs trembling around his head, legs shaking every time his mouth gets too close again, and your clit is throbbing so much it almost hurts, swollen and aching from how long he’s been kissing it, sucking it, licking it like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you… laughing softly whenever you whine, hands hooked around your thighs to keep you open for him while he looks up at you…
he nibbles at your inner thigh, grinning against your skin when your hips jerk, and then he crawls back up your body all warm and messy-mouthed, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your tear-wet lashes, murmuring, “gonna make you come now, ‘kay? it’s gonna be so good…” like he’s doing you the sweetest favor in the world after ruining you for hours.
and then he works his way down again, slow enough to make you sob, pressing kisses down your stomach, over your hips, along the soft shaking line of your thighs before his mouth returns to you and he eats your pussy like he’s hungry for it, like he’s missed it in the few seconds he was gone, licking through your folds with a groan before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking until your back arches off the bed. “there you go,” he breathes, voice muffled and pleased, and he keeps going, keeps licking, keeps pulling you higher and higher until you’re shaking so hard you can barely breathe and everything narrows down to his mouth, his grin, the unbearable heat blooming low in your stomach and you’re there, you’re there, you’re the—
does anyone have a cigarette and a goddamn lighter