This is all you get. This is all you’re allowed to have. Make it count.
Your voice in my ear makes me whine. It’s a very desperate sound and I am quickly becoming a very desperate girl. I had begged and begged for you to touch me. You’d been gone for over a week on some work trip that I deemed highly unfair and unnecessary. I had teased you the whole while, sending you pictures, dirty texts, calling you late at night when I wanted something. You had warned me plenty of times that I was getting myself into trouble, but I didn’t care. You remind me that all I care about is my own wet cunt.
So now, because of my poor behavior, I’m sat here on your lap, grinding against your thigh while you pay me no mind other than to occasionally whisper something awful to me. You have better things to do than deal with the pathetic, wet mess that I am.
Five minutes. If you don’t make it, you’ll have to wait.
It isn’t fair. I had been waiting so long. I needed it. I needed you, but I couldn’t get what I wanted.
The words slipped from my mouth in a soft whisper, caught between light gasps. You laughed and mimicked me.
“It isn’t fair? You know what really isn’t fair, little one?”
I shake my head. I can’t focus on you. I dig my fingers into your leg, trying to get myself a better chance. I have three minutes left. I might make it if I concentrate.
“You being such an awful girl while I’m gone. You know what happens to mean little girls like yourself?”
I shake my head again. Words are not my friend today. Two minutes.
You grab my chin and pull my eyes up. I can feel my breath catching. I’m so close. You’re frowning, but I’m so close.
“They edge. And they edge. And they edge. Until there’s nothing left. No thoughts, no orgasms. Just edging.”
I just want to shut you out and focus on my task, but you echo in my head. Just edging. Just edging. Just edging.
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