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The Reluctant Exhibitionist “Show me.” His tone was soft and measured but no less a demand for it. He sat in his armchair looking at her from across the room. “Sir?..” she trailed off, not even sure what she was asking. She wasn’t questioning him, of course not. But she felt so exposed, so self-conscious in the brightly lit room. “I won’t ask again love. Show me. Show me how you want to be touched. Spread those legs and show me what makes my pretty cunt feel good.” Biting her lip she ran one hand down herself, touching her cleavage, the softness of her belly, before drifting to the hard nub of her clit that seemed to have no hesitation about how his demand made it feel. It throbbed under her fingers now, hot, insistent. She rubbed it and gasped as a burst of pleasure flared. “That’s it, show me how needy you are. How just my voice makes you wet.” Her fingers moved faster now rubbing, petting, making squishy sounds as her desire seeped out to coat them. Her cheeks flushed but her self-consciousness fell away as her arousal grew. She looked at him from under hooded lids. Although he appeared relaxed, nonchalant even, she could see one of his hands clench around the arm of the chair. His chest rose and fell as his elevated breathing started to match hers. “Faster.” He snapped it out and she obeyed instantly, slipping one, then two, fingers inside her sopping cunt. She couldn’t stop the low moan that escaped her throat or the way her head fell back against the wall. Her thigh muscles began to quiver and burn as the pleasure started to overtake her. “What are you thinking pet? Tell me.” “Oh Sir, I..I’m thinking about you. Your hands, your cock. I want it so badly, I need it. I’ll be so good I promise, Sir. Please fuck me. Please!” Gone was the polite, polished woman who’d walked in the door. Here was his creation - the needy, greedy wanton who shed all her inhibitions and admitted her darkest cravings. Who loved his demands and yearned to please him. He smiled to himself. “Stop. Hands by your sides. Kneel.” She let out a small whimper but obeyed, dropping gracefully. He walked to where she knelt, flushed, panting, her eyes huge and hungry as she watched him. When he stood over her he ran his hands through her hair before sliding one around her throat, feeling the delicate muscles contract as she swallowed. “Do you want my cock?” She managed a small nod in response. “I can’t hear you. Do you want my cock?”Yes! Please, sir! Ple…mmmmph” Her last plea was muffled as he shoved his aching dick into her mouth, groaning as the wet heat enveloped him. He had made her into such a good little slut. His slut. His perfect little fucktoy. ~exoticeva  "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.” |
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Mind games to please.. a strong will to to have him..
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Show me ... mm yes. love this vignette.
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Sounds like a lovely way to spend a Tuesday afternoon. "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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