I feel her pulse quicken with every trace of my fingers
across her skin. I scent her sweat upon her body, her
readiness flowing forth from her sex.I hear her breathing
quicken as she edges closer to the precipice edge between
rising arousal and pulsating release. Her body tastes so
delightful and I whisper the thought into her ear. She
blushes so self-conscious as I meet her eyes. I make her
believe as I slowly feast upon every part of her, from
head to toe and every part between.
I drink it all in. The sight of her body stretched with
rope among the posts of the bed. Her ball gag holding her
words back but not the mews and moans nor the writhing
tautness of her body straining to free herself. To touch
herself. To release herself over and over again.
I make her drench the sheets with her wetness. I make her
moistness become a river flowing from betwixt her thighs
with a burning inferno needing to be quenched. I refuse to
release her until I am ready. Until I have had my hungers
sated. Until she is driven well out of her mind with want.
Hunger. Desire. She will beg. Whimper. Moan. Plead. Until
I am ready she will not release.