"When you are pulling against the restraints… when your back is arched and your hips are writhing… when your mouth is open in a silent scream of tortured rapture… you will know that my work has begun."
Tag: lingerie
The smoothness as you let it glide between your lips before feeling that vibration against your tenderness. There is a little voice in the back of your mind that urges you to slide it underneath, to trap it against you. Even as it becomes more and more intense, that little voice compels you to fight the urge to stop it. Your legs, your hands, your hips… powerless against the desires of your sex to be pushed further and further. You whisper to yourself that you can’t take any more; the voice in your mind tells you that you must… that you will.
How tormenting it must be to feel that intensity right there where you cannot take any more, your thighs trying to protect that little sex, succeeding only in trapping it further against yourself.
Try closing your legs all you want, there is no stopping it.
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.
Wherever they had come from, those fetching panties that she had discovered in her drawer were going to inflict a night of passion upon her that she would never forget.
The silky softness of that tight little piece of fabric made her hunger for the touches against her sensuous mound; never in her most erotic dreams could she imagine that those panties would embody something which hungered for her just as much.
From the moment she put them on, she longed to caress her sex. The cool silk seemed to enhance every sensation. After mere seconds it seemed as if every nerve ending in her body had focused its attention on just that one space between her legs. The deep longing grew and grew until simply the slippery stroke of a fingertip was not nearly enough. She had felt the joy of being teased plenty of times before, yet this longing was unlike anything else – as if every passing second added an hour’s worth of tantalisation.
She removed the lingerie hastily, unaware that its spell had long been cast upon her body the moment they were worn, the moment they encased her sensitive womanhood.
Completely naked and exposed, she still felt the familiar sensation of the cool, soft silkiness clinging to her sex, though all her attention was on the uncontrollable longing which burned between her legs. Her fingers magnetised towards it, yet instead of the fulfilling comfort of masturbation, they were stopped. As if they were being held back, she could not push her hands any further down. No matter how much she tried to slide her fingers down to quench the fire raging within her sex, she was left held so cruelly close. While the unendurable longing did not seem to die down, her pussy seemed to be throbbing with more need with each second.
The tingling seemed to increase to a burning need, until moments later it was like she was trapped in the vice of an impending orgasm that wouldn’t come. Still, her pussy was inexplicably out of reach. Suddenly her arms were pulled back and came to rest above her head, pinned in place as if they were being held tightly. Just as fast, her pussy was embraced by sensations she could not explain or comprehend. Even while her pussy was bare, she could feel the familiar sensation of the silky material embracing her. This sensation seemed to combine with the stimulation of being touched by the softest of fingertips, of being licked by the most precise tongue, of being nibbled by the most eager mouth.
She thought her engorged mound would explode with need as repeatedly she was brought so close to orgasm and held there before it backed off just enough to leave her hips thrusting for more. She wanted to touch herself, to touch anywhere, just to feel the soft curves of her heat-stricken body. Still, she remained held in place, tormented to a state of craving that she had never thought possible. The constant writhing of her hips did nothing to increase the formless yet ever-present and unyielding manipulations of her soft, delicate mound.
Finally, when she thought her consciousness could not stand any more of that tantalising torture, it happened. Her pussy felt like it had suddenly been devoured with pure stimulation, as if her entire sex were being sucked. Every tiny detail and sensitivity of that swollen mound seemed to be being latched onto by the air itself. After so much time spent in the hell of denial, the sudden avalanche of suction was a heaven of orgasmic bliss. Her orgasm seemed to never end – she didn’t want it to. All she cared about was the unparalleled pleasure that confined her to the bed. Wave after wave of orgasm was sucked from her. The mixture of such long denial and the longing brought about by the lingerie kept fuelling the orgasmic fire. As if reading her mind, the sucking stopped, ceasing just as the almost painfully intense orgasms started to cross the line of being unbearable.
Once she was able to move her arms, she knew it was over. All was still and quiet in the room. Finally able to catch her breath, as if her lungs were also finally her own now, she simply lay there motionless, recovering from the fiercest orgasms she had ever experienced.
As she lay there, she thought to herself that she may wait at least another week before putting those back on.
Gazing at yourself in the mirror, as if peering through a window at the most erotic scene you have ever witnessed, a spectator to those deepest desires, waiting intently for it to unfold before your eyes.
‘Good girl’… the words you crave, those two words together that sets your body alight, that send a shiver down your gorgeously curved spine, tingling in pleasure.
‘Again’… that word which feels so loaded with cruelty, with torture, with utterly tormenting ecstasy.
Your fingers feel so trapped under the delicate confines of your panties; the anticipation seems to smother you. Will you finally get the orgasm you crave, or will you have to hold it back once more?
‘Hold it’… the two words that throw you into a new world of agonising bliss, making every muscle clench as you fight to keep that tidal wave of an orgasm bottled up inside you, waiting for how it will flood from you at any moment.
‘Come’… as it erupts from you, consuming you, constricting your body like a rope made of pure pleasure, ever-tightening, you lose every other thought. After those first crashing waves, you know that no matter how intense the sensations, how much your body quivers, it will not be the only time you hear that one word.
Even when it is just the slightest morsel of fabric protecting your delicate sex, once it is removed, it feels like a new world of unbearably pleasurable stimulation. Once the vibrator buzzes against your now fully exposed, hyper-sensitive pussy, you feel a new dimension of defencelessness has been granted.
