masturbated – PleasureTorture

The physical embodiment of anticipation.

Good girl. Take it until those hips are shuddering from the ecstasy.

It doesn’t matter whether you come. All that matters is that you adore every second of having me explore you.

We’ll sit outside, and I’ll slather you with oil. I’ll strip you and let you bask in being so exposed while out in nature.

I’ll massage you, I’ll expose you, I’ll explore you.

As I press my fingers up against that firmer little patch inside you, pushing upward and rubbing it directly, I don’t care whether you squirt. I just want you to let yourself go and give in to the sensations wreaking havoc within you.

I know that what makes you shiver in pleasure the most is that, under the sunlight, with me exploring you so intimately, as I delve so deeply, there is absolutely nothing left to hide. Exposed in every way.

Anticipation: that tantalising, delicate tension in the air, the heartbeat fluttering in every motion, the prickling heat that first marks the inferno to soon engulf.

Anticipation is sexuality at its most primal, the moments before the fantasy of imagination meets the potency of reality.

A whisper of what could be. Until you finally feel its touch.

It is not simply a want or merely a desire. It is absolutely a need. The need to feel you at your limit, to know that you are experiencing pleasure that your mind craves yet your body struggles to handle.

The need to feel your sensitive pussy clench as your delicate body succumbs to the inevitable. The need to hold you back and make sure you fully endure it, to prevent you from protecting your hypersensitive clitoris from what you truly crave. The need to feel you trying to make me stop, yet never actually trying to get away.

The necessity to never stop hearing you moan and scream in ecstasy, to feel you shudder and shake in overstimulation. A need, an addiction, an obsession with your pleasure.

I need it just as much as you do.

Perhaps if you’d have taken heed of the warnings, you wouldn’t be here. How reckless it was to traverse home alone, but it is too late now. She told you at the beginning that she hadn’t decided what to do with you, whether she’d devour your soul with your climax or whether to let you live and keep you as her sex toy. You believe her though, that while you might beg for the latter option, in time you’ll be wishing you chose the first. The way her mouth works you as if she’s known more about your pleasures than you could ever fathom yourself, keeping you shivering non-stop.

Every time your length slips between her lips, you let out a groan of pleasure, the likes of which has never escaped your mouth before. Her tongue wraps around and cradles the head of that pulsating cock as if to let it know that it will never escape. After merely thirty minutes, she has you whimpering in need to come, yet your moans and imploring words do not satiate her nearly as much as the pulse within every vein and each twitch of longing.

No matter how much you ask, she won’t answer just how long she’ll hold you on the brink. All she tells you is that when you do come, it will feel like every orgasm you have ever experienced in your life rolled into one.

She can feel every nerve-ending signal just how close you are, feel the moments when you need a little more friction or speed, even feel the times when you start to pray that she’ll let you fuck her. Perhaps if she had told you, however, that the saliva of her kind could keep you safely erect for hours, that she’d be able to keep sucking you for as long as she wanted, maybe you wouldn’t have been begging to come quite so fast.

I have a feeling that you know that pushing your hand against mine makes me want to keep going even more.

Does feeling that length within your palm make you that little wetter? Feeling it pulse to your touch. You can imagine how it would feel sliding right where these fingers are. I can feel how it turns you on as well to know that it doesn’t stop even when you try to push that hand away. Letting you know that
when this pulsing, swollen cock replaces those fingers, there won’t be any way to hold it back.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: Nubile Films

I can only come once. I can only feel that sweet, explosive release of ecstasy one time before it’s over. Maybe another entire day before I get to build back up to that moment. That’s why we are here like this right now.

I want to take my frustration out on you. The frustration of being unable to come more than once while focused on your multi-orgasmic body. All of my attention is on making you come so much that I’m almost glad I can only come once.

How I masturbate you lets you know that I’m thinking of all the times I had to hold myself on the brink when fucking you. All the times, I had to withhold my orgasm because it would have been all over if I hadn’t. It was almost like a punishment for my cock, for being unable to climax multiple times. So now this is the punishment for your pussy in return.

So just lean back against me and keep coming just like that. Let me have a taste of what it feels like to be able to orgasm again and again.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: thewhiteboxx

It’s all about giving you the pleasure I would want to feel.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: thewhiteboxx

It’s that single moment I want to see, the moment your orgasm is signalled through your eyes. That fleeting second of desperation as you try to look at me, as if you are trying to tell me that the pleasure you are a breath away from feeling is going to be too much to handle if my fingers keep going like this. That moment just after when your body climaxes, but your mind has that millisecond of control, how I can see it in your eyes, trying to focus then suddenly being overcome.