I know how it feels, being in your position, being restrained and helpless. How it lets you focus on the overwhelming sensations between your legs, that build-up which consumes you, knowing that release in every sense is at my discretion.
I understand you want to see me riding you, yet I also know that the fantasy in your mind adds another layer of torment, imagining the smile as I look down and see the utter desperation your mouth tries to convey.
I know that you want me to be as cruel as possible, to ensure that every motion of my body feels destined to prolong your pleasure until you feel like mercy is beyond reach, until you feel like even begging me would simply elicit laughter, the kind of laughter that sends a shiver of erotic longing through your spine.
What I don’t understand, however, is just how it feels to need to thrust upwards, to feel several inches of your body literally throbbing and pulsating with the need to drive deeper. I can’t comprehend the tightness and yearning within those balls, that external, gorgeous masculinity, to need to release the pent-up tide of orgasm. I don’t know how it feels to have this heat, this softness, this wetness, clenching around those aching inches slip up and down while fighting to hold back that white-hot gush.
That’s what makes it so much more erotic. I can imagine and understand what you feel, but I don’t truly know how your cock feels right now – yet I’m still going to prolong that sensual agony for as long as possible. That’s what keeps my body burning with arousal and what keeps me coming again and again, knowing that my joy is what makes your cock suffer just that little bit more.
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