Once again, I settle at your feet, no clothing adorning me, as per your wishes. I do not look up, but focus my gaze on the ground at your feet, shifting on my knees to gain comfort. I wait. You do not move, you say nothing, I barely hear you breathe, though the drumming of my heart may be drowning out the subtle sound. An eternity passes in but a few moments, and I age for some recognition that I am there.
You exhaust; the sound reverberates in my ears like a cannon fire, and I tend, awaiting the cares of your fingers, somewhere on my body, as is your custom. Searing flames lick my shoulder as your fingertips whisper, butterly-soft, over my skin, tracing down to my collarbone. Still, I do not raise my eyes from your feet. The flames lick along my neck, up the left side, Then under my chin, and with almost no pressure at all, save your will, my chin i s lifted, and my eyes meet yours.
Struggling to break the gaze, your will, and the intensity penetration of your eyes hold me to it, and I can feel the crisis hue suffer my cheeks, and then travel slowly from my face, down my neck, and onto my chest, my breasts flushing all the way to my hardening nipples.
Neither of us speaks.
When you are sure you have my attention and my gaze firmly held, you release my chin from the gentle vice. Butterfly touches of your fingertips trace down my neck once more, the heat radiating from your touch to create a furnace of my skin. A gasp escapes my lips as the electric shocks of your other hand carressing my right shoulder course through me… but still my eyes do not waver from yours. A brief, pleased smile plays across your mouth, and is gone.
Slowly, so slowly I can envision the evolution of the earth, your soft fingertips and slightly coarser palms graze over my skin- around my shoulders and then slowly down each arm, some force of your will command my limbs into compliance. Suddenly, without my awareness of how they arrived there, my hands are at your lips, held firmly by your own hands while your mouth gifts me with soft kisses. The tenderness of your eyes and of the gesture thunders through me, and my eyes revert back to the floor.
I know the look on your face even without seeing it- pleased and slightly disappointed all at once. You have shaken me, you have crumbled my will, and I am more yours now than when we began, an eternity ago.
You release my hands from your gentle vice, and reach down, touching my lips, stroking gently over my mouth, without willing my gaze once more. I do not look, but close my eyes, the lashes resting softly on my cheeks, while my lips move to gently carress the tips of your fingers- softness moving over softness, an almost inaudible sight flowing from them. Almost. You run Your thumb over my lips, and push only slightly, gaining entry to my pink mouth, heat encircling the tip, and pleasure flushing through me. And still, I do not look up, do not even move, my body slave to your desire for stillness. Further, until your thumb touches the tip of my tongue, you push, and then you gently stroke my tongue until it strokes back, twisting around and licking, my lips still unmoving. Pleased, you remove your thumb, rubbing the wetness off on my lips before removing your touch altogether. My eyes are still focused on the floor.
An eternity jumps as I wait, anticipating your next touch, my breathing becoming more shallow, the frustration of this neglect mounting in my heart and in my loins. And still I wait, my frustration now dripping slowly down my thighs. Just as I consider imploring you with my gaze, your touch returns, knocking the breath from me as your gentle hands almost imperceptibly cares the undersides of my breasts. It is all I can do to not cry out in orgasm, but I wrestle with myself, and gain control of the wave that threatened to overtake me. I have not received permission.
You speak your first words to me:
“Good girl.”
My mouth becomes a radiant grin, and I look up at you, knowing I may, as I have pleased you. You smile at me, and then without seeing your arms move, I feel your hands move on my breasts, stroking from the underside to the topside, tracing circles around my areolae. My nipples are so hard they are like to burst, and you, seizing an opportunity as you seize my nipples, pull me to you, your fingers clamped onto them like a vice. You hold me only an inch from your face, and an inch from orgasm, and you breathe your hot breath over my needy mouth. Yanking my nipples with your fingers, my body crashes forward, and our lips meet, my eyes clamping shut in the pain and pleasure of it all, a soft moan passing from my mouth to yours- my first sound. Once more, I wrestle with that wave, as your fingers molest my sensitive nubs, and you whisper into my mouth…
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