Tag: erotic

The way your hips sway to these slow, teasing ministrations. You always want to feel so open, so exposed for me. It isn’t just the intensity of the sensations which keeps that prickling heat gliding along your body throughout. It is the simple knowledge that I’m going to keep you feeling this way, feeling yourself explored so calculatedly, for as long as possible. Not knowing exactly how long you will be kept this way keeps you constantly lost behind that blindfold, lost in a constantly rising tide of arousal.

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Midnight Caress

Whispers of eroticism twisting through the night air; like a petal entwined in breeze, you writhe, lost in the mystical passions that threaten to consume you.

Neither asleep nor truly awake, you feel an embrace like no other, as if the atmosphere itself is lovingly caressing your body, keeping you held in its place. Not being fully awake, fear does not cloud the enchantment of sensuality your body possesses. The first ripples of movement around your body have it curious for more, as if the slightest sense of activity in the air sets your nerves alight.

The caressing movement of the sheets presses over your body as if they were the hands of a thousand masseurs exploring the contours of your female frame. Your body seems to burn with a need, yet there is no way of ever knowing whether time has passed in seconds or hours – every touch upon your body seems to linger for an eternity.

The embrace of the entity against your chest sends a warm surge down to your toes. Instinctively, your hands press to the sheets, clasping onto nothing but cotton yet still feeling as if all the hands in the world were focused on your body.

As your skin is exposed, the air itself seems to kiss every morsel of you, as if the sensual whispers were showing their appreciation. You writhe in agonised ecstasy as your breasts are caressed once again, every fibre of your sexuality being enticed effortlessly. The sheets embrace you ceaselessly, like a sea of pleasure washing over you, threatening to drown you. Unlike fingers, the motions wreaking havoc around your body feel like countless threads of silk twining around your skin.

The movements lead between your thighs, making your internal, subconscious voice cry out in bliss. The sheet envelops you, a mass of pleasure encasing you as you rock uncontrollably, feeling like the sensation of a hundred silky brushes rolling along the deepest sensitivities of your sex, all under the firm grasp of the sheet rocking against your womanhood.

You will not awake from this abyss of pleasure until the desires of the night are through with you; passing out, screaming out, shielding yourself – these are options beyond your control. You are merely the passenger. They shall drive you to the greatest heights of pleasure.

Without control, without respite, you moan into the eternity of the night.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: The Toy Box

My head between your thighs, lips pressing tighter, and fingers working you faster as you get closer and closer. What turns you on most isn’t simply knowing how much I want to make you come. It’s knowing that when you do come, I won’t stop. You can try and move away, but all that will do is draw me closer to keep you held tighter. I love when the excitement turns to disbelief – feeling like you can’t possibly come any more, yet knowing that I won’t stop until you do.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: Dare (2012)

I want my mouth to be all that you can think about. The impression my tongue can make, to leave you enamoured of its ability to keep you quivering. The eroticism of how I can bring about so many sensations from such a small part of you, how such tiny actions can leave you breathless.

While my commanding lips entangle with your own most tender ones, communicating eroticism with such relentless desire, the intent always remains. I always want to be certain that the next time you see me, the next time you hear me, all you’ll be thinking about is my head nestled between your thighs.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: Dare (2012)

Anticipation

I like keeping your lingerie on. It lets you understand that there’s so much more that you will feel. Such sweet anticipation.

How your hips rock for attention while my tongue merely flutters against those exposed little parts, so close yet so far. So much teasing along your pussy lips, all with the intent to keep you focused so much on that one little area that isn’t being touched yet. Then when my mouth finally presses firmly to your centre, you pull against the restraints in a mixture of delight and longing – the delight of the contact you have craved and the longing for just that little bit more.

I’m going to keep you like this for a while, the whole time making you wish that this little piece of fabric wasn’t shielding your delicacy from my lips.

Think of that mouth pressing to that soft, sensitive little wet slope. Let’s see if the anticipation alone is enough to make you come before the act itself.

Anticipation… the epitome of pleasure.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Every time you masturbate, you want to push yourself further into the depths of pleasure. 

You imagine someone else in charge forcing you to endure a more intense level of stimulation than you can normally take, forcing you to keep that toy pressed right on that sensitive little spot no matter how much your body wants to thrust it away. 

You think of his eyes boring into yours, how he can see your need for more without you having to vocalise it, the way you want to be dominated, to be rendered a slave to every orgasm.  Craving that presence, you keep it in place, wanting to feel your pussy tortured with sensations beyond your own control. 

You don’t masturbate to simply fill the cravings of your body; you masturbate to quell the desires of your imagination. 

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: NewSensations