Blue-black visions swim against my eyelids as I swim to consciousness, fingertips dipping beneath my waistband in somnambulent insistence, trailing fire against sensitive flesh, seeking sweet relief. I am slick. Hot. Swollen. My fevered skin aches, the barest air bruising me with its caress, my nipples prickling at the assault, begging for your mouth. I take one, tenderly tugging between thumb and forefinger, allowing the ethereal shapes in my mind to take solid form while my fingers dance inside my tight heat.
I am wet.
Creamy.
Hot. Ohhhhh… So hot.
Burn with me.
I swirl circles over my clit, feeling the slippery liquid dripping from deep inside, and as I ride the edge I center all my energy on the one thought that will push me over:
You.
Coming.
To (for) me.
You’re coming for me, baby.
(SOON. So soon.)
You are coming.
And I am cumming…
(NOW… Right now… R i g h t… NOW.)
…for you.
Source: The Suburban Domme
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