Good little girl for you

Good little girl for you

good little girl for you biscuit teddy daddy daddys little girlIt can start so innocently, a cuddle, a kiss, neck strokes, my arm snaked round you then the sexual tension crackles and you feel that I’m your good little girl to do with as you will, pushing my head down, making me put my lips to your interested cock. The breath catching in your throat as I tease that I don’t want it, my head pulling away and pushing backwards on your hand, which in turn changes from gently guiding me down, to wrapping your fist in a fluid twist motion that you’ve used on me countless times before, around my hair, to force my mouth not only around your cock but impale me on it, the angry head striking the back of my throat with a brute unyielding force.

I give in then, the taste pacifying my demand for freedom, the feel of you full and engorged in my mouth, wanting my administrations;  calming me, making me feel wanted and useful and sexual. The long breath you release is full of a calm satisfaction that all is now as it should be, I am in my place pleasuring you physically and I am tending to your needs, servicing you, your good little girl.

We continue til another moment, I’m atop you, straddled, you don’t lay still you make me work for the deep grinding pleasure, every move of mine countered by a teasing move under me, legs spread and hips widened for you, my hair flailing and falling about your face, I try to sweep it up but it is loose and free, as wild and messy as everything else right now. It’s hot and our breathing is fast, frenzied, audible and ragged. There is a definite edge of building to a need. You take hold of my waist (I love when you do that, making me feel tiny, my curves flaring from this central narrowest part), one move pulling me almost off you, the next firmly forcing me all the way down with sensations that flood the pair of us. Nails in your back, my teeth sometimes in your neck before I must break for more air, I cannot get enough… I want to kiss, the hot meeting, clashing of lips, missing each other clumsily with the motion… building and swaying, finding the rhythm and pace.

It changes. You’re behind me, hands firmly at the top of my hips, guiding you into my slick, glistening place, I cannot talk now, my mind does not form clear thoughts, there is no words, only feelings, physical need and heat and taste and biting and penetration and fulfilment and satisfaction. To be taken like some animal, the rawness of it, instinctive latent sexuality with him the predator and I the prey, so sexual and irresistible, I open up myself to it and reveal the softness for you wanting you to take all of me because I know you can, properly, safely, loving me with your violence.

You reach up and pinch my nipples, maul my breasts like I am merely your plaything, because obviously, I am… you ring the bell I wear for you round my neck, the sound turning us both on now, letting us know that I am your owned perverted little kitten creation, a little girl that needs putting in her place and binding, beating, filling as you wish. Your hands come up, one to choke my by the neck, the other to yank my head back with my hair, you know I love the hair pulling, I need it to hurt…

There’s something in the next moment; when you’re on top of me, the passion is met while we are eye to eye, you growling into me and pounding into me, forcing my head back and not letting me move, barely letting me breathe, I love knowing I’m your little slut for you to use and abuse, play with and defile, and you are more and more turned on as time goes by as the look between us shows that I’m relying on you, trusting you to let me breathe when I need it, and it is when you are satisfied that my life is completely under your control, literally, then you cannot hold back anymore and you pour your torrent into me with your animalistic noise of release, not holding anything back, no fear, just the natural act of exerting yourself over me knowing I am just the vessel to hold your released seed.

Soon I will write more of thoughts between times, what I dream and desire, not that I can want anything but the above, it is more than I dared to hope or dream possible….

I love you



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