Tag: erotic

Keep those arms and legs spread for him. You will only use one hand to explore your desire, leaving the other arm and legs outstretched, feeling those restraints holding you in place for him to take you as he desires. 

First, tease yourself as you imagine yourself restrained, those fingertips trailing in such soft, slow circles around your so incredibly aroused little entrance. How you want to feel those fingers penetrate you deeply, to feel the power of his hands envelop your sex. Keep teasing it, circling that tight hole which will soon quiver for so much more. 

Once it truly can’t handle such teasing, slide those fingers up and down the sides, letting them trail along the lips of your sex. Even from just 5 minutes of this, it feels unending, a need so bad that it draws the deepest desperation from you.

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Those fingers tease down towards your sex so tentatively, doing your best to stop yourself from working faster, imagining another’s fingertips tantalising you, savouring your thrusts of desire. Longingly you trail downwards, casting a line of attention directly towards where he would want to focus on. You imagine his intentions, yet just the thought of him getting ready to pounce on you sends a rush through your body. The thought of him spreading your legs and eating you out until you were a screaming, begging mess of pleasure.

You’ve edged yourself many times, yet for some reason, today feels so much harder, as if the tightness of your lingerie makes you so aware of the parts it covers, so aware of how much others would want to strip you right now, to masturbate you relentlessly, to pin you down and take turns denying you until you were writhing in need. The idea of them all waiting and anticipating clamping their mouths around and burying their tongues within your dripping wet pussy makes you quiver on the verge of orgasm.

Finally, as you back off and begin again, your thoughts turn to your current situation, alone in the room and indulging so much in your pleasures and fantasies. The way you can make your own body feel so much, how you so relish the way you can torment yourself, to push yourself to the brink of what your sex can handle. The thought of how your own fingertips can make you moan in such ecstasy makes you almost wish you weren’t so cruel to yourself, just so you could feel that orgasmic release right this second.

You know you can’t hold your orgasm back much longer. You are going to allow yourself to come very soon, though the question is simply what thought is going to be the one that you come to.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Submission by: annabell-leigh

A position she’d always wanted to be in, to know that she was helpless to their impulses. It wasn’t merely their fingers and mouths however that caused her nipples to be so achingly hard and her pussy so wet. It was the fact that she understood just how well they knew her body so intimately inside and out. The knowledge that they both knew just how it felt, and that they’d keep at it until she was screaming for them to stop. Knowing that they’d maybe even keep playing with her past that point made her body pulsate with arousal even more; after all, they knew just what her body really desired.

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The pure, undeniable eroticism of what we both intend. To know exactly how your dress so finely details those enticing curves of your femininity, how you know that the moment I see you, I’ll instantly be thinking of stripping you of it to reveal those delicate delights. The sheer sensuality of it, to always think that every time we are so close, only such thin segments of fabric separate us from what we truly desire.

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“Stop,” the word that never fails to send a devastating rush through her overstimulated mind. Finally brought back to the reality of her situation, the reality of what control her own fingertips have against the backdrop of her desires. If only the reality would mirror her fantasies, that of being able to dictate when she could climax.

Centre stage, she continues once again, the limits of passion engulfing every inch of her body, the gazes that sweep over her seem to touch like fingertips, as if every pair of eyes brushes tantalisingly along her skin. She wants to beg them one by one for the orgasm that has been denied for so long, though it is clear that these men and women watching her are here for the pleasure being witnessed, with no intention of letting it subside so soon. Her eyes begin anew their search for someone who might show some mercy, scanning the figures, some sitting and some standing but all dressed smartly for this sexual display, for some look of consent for release. Against the gentle backdrop of whispered chat and the sharp tap of wine glasses occasionally being placed on tables, her outpouring moans and sighs of pleasure takes centre stage.  

Fingers slickly coated with her own juices, she stops again as she feels herself teetering on the brink, a dull, aching pulse resonating from her clitoris, being her body’s only means of retaliation for such denial. She focuses on a couple who stands at the foot of the large bed as she begins stroking again. Mouthing the word ‘please’ to the man, she wants him to imagine what it must feel like inside her right now, how her tenderness must be quivering in need, how if he’d give the permission for her to come, how he could imagine feeling himself wrapped within those tight, convulsing folds of silken delight. The man merely smiles and continues to enjoy the delight, all while caressing his partner, who is savouring the sight just as much. For a moment, she thinks of how the light, folding around her body like a sheet, must be illuminating every detail of her dripping wet, glistening sex. The thought makes her reach the edge of orgasm so fiercely that she has to clasp her legs shut in order not to risk going over.

“Open them,” comes the hushed yet no less commanding order from a woman watching to the side, one of the closest people around her. Every feeling of desperation, of animalistic need, of agonising arousal, seems to instantly melt away to reveal the purest pleasure she has ever felt. The control of her own body, of her own pleasure, being held in the palms of not only those around her, but specifically this woman watching with such intent, makes her sexuality feel like the most important thing in the world, the very centre of existence.

Looking deeply into this woman’s eyes, she holds her gaze while her fingers slip within, seeming to explore herself deeper than she’d ever felt before. With her gaze held the whole time, through the ebbing tide of impending orgasm, her eyes convey one simple truth. This right now was the most wonderful, erotic experience of her life.

Photography by: Deckmara

Written by: PleasureTorture