I love the rippling of the stone mimicking the rippling of her flesh. Beautiful.

exoticeva:

“What’s the matter baby? You asked me to touch you. Begged me, in fact. And you know how much I love it when you beg. So I did as you requested but you don’t seem happy about it.”

His soft, low voice, crooning in my ear was a delicious torment, just like the way he ran his fingers gently over my pussy and clit. Light, feather touches that hovered between a tickle and a caress on my newly waxed, very sensitive skin.

I was dying, helpless, taut with desire and need. Writhing against the gentle touch of his hand. My long dark hair was wrapped around his other hand, an effective tether which meant I couldn’t lift my head. He had instructed me sternly not to move my arms, doing so would result in punishment. But what was this if not punishment?

He was moving his fingers in a seemingly random tapping motion, like a kid pretending to play the piano. Only I was his instrument and the moans and whimpers and pleas that fell from my lips were the music he created.

My soaked cunt ached with emptiness, my inner muscles clenching and clasping in a useless bid to feel something, anything that would alleviate the pain of not being filled. I was desperate for his fingers to slide through my flesh, to rub against those places that wept with need. My clit was so hard it throbbed, but he ignored the way I arched my hips, trying to get his fingers to press where I wanted. He ran one finger down the seam of my pussy and I shrieked.

“PLEASE, please, please Sir. I’m begging you, please let me cum, please.”

“Oh now you want to cum? Such a fucking greedy slut. Before you were begging for me to touch you, and I am – just as you asked. Is this not what you want girl? Should I stop?”

My breath shuddered out of me on a half-moan, half-sob as he pulled his hand away.

“Ahhh, no, no please Sir, please I love your touch, it’s just..oh God, I need to cum, please.”

“Hmmm. No.”

“Fuck, fuck, please Sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I said no.”

I bit my lip as real tears threatened. I wouldn’t let them fall. This was his right. My orgasms were his to grant and his to deny. My pussy was his. I was his. I swallowed hard and willed my legs to stop shaking. He watched me for a few moments, saw my efforts to self-soothe, saw me take deep breaths and push back the tears as I accepted his command. I relaxed my muscles and lay there, my whimpers getting quieter as I tried to take deeper, more even breaths. My clit still throbbed, my cunt still ached but I would bear this, for him. Always for him. *calm, calm, calm,* I chanted in my head.

His voice broke through my inner monologue. “Good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Those words lit me up. Distracting me immediately from the need and ache. I was incandescent, alight with his praise and the smile I could see playing on his face.

“Do you know what happens to good girls?”

I shook my head, even though I really wanted to say something like “they get orgasms?” I wasn’t pushing my luck and ruining this moment by being even a little sassy.

He stood up, the noticeable bulge of his arousal pushing against the zipper of his jeans.

“They get fed. Take out my cock, princess, and show me what that pretty mouth of yours is good for.”