Kneeling behind her, his hardness ready and waiting, he meets her eye in the mirror. On all fours and through a curtain of flaming curls he can see and feel her frustration.
She pushes back ever so slightly but his strong hands on her hips stave her off. She has been teased, mercilessly. The wetness dripping down her legs for the past hour has left its mark on the bed. He runs his hand tenderly over the length of her back and around her fair bottom, which he kisses lightly at first and then so deeply a low moan escapes her body.
She has been teased long enough.
Why is it that reading your descriptions, no natter how brief, of dripping feminine arousal always sends a surge through me? I have read similar things by others and yet only yours has this particular effect on me.
How odd and curious
I have absolutely no idea how or why I can affect you in so few words, Marcus. All I can say is I'm truly grateful for the ability to do so…
not as grateful as us dear minx xxxx
You’re too kind, Obsessed, especially since this piece was posted over six years ago…