you’ve got some talent there
naughty little girls
Daddy made me look at this and now I will have to take another shower.
I was looking at his hand, holding her wrist, I don’t know but just the feeling of that would be incredible.
My eyes are forced shut so tight that coloured spots dance before the blackness.
It would be easy, so easy, to just let go and just clench and –
“Don’t even think about it.”
My frustration turns to anger and my eyes snap open in a pointed glare, lips pouting. Biting my tongue from shouting obscenities I’ll be sure to regret. You just smile.
“Keep going.” You try to sound nonchalant but I know how hard you are. You love this. Watching me struggle with my greed. Sliding from clit to hole to clit again at your command. Bringing myself closer to completion, letting myself teeter on the knife edge, the first pangs of orgasmic bliss just about to fracture the tension, quickening my fingers, inhaling deeply, ready to –
I jerk my hand away sharply, hips following the path momentarily, instinctively craving friction, just one more touch, one… I can feel the muscles tick in my jaw as I just lie there panting noisily through my teeth, thighs moving together for a few futile squeezes, watching you standing fully clothed at the end of the bed, at my feet. Arms folded. An amused smile curling your lips as you look down at me. Your gaze flickers to my sticky fingers lying on my stomach.
“Time to clean up, sweetheart.” Play is over. I try not to sound disappointed, but the exhale travels further than I meant, and your eyes soften momentarily. Your arms unfold and you lean against the frame of the bed, bending forwards. I seize the chance.
“Please…Sir?” I ask, my voice sounding small, fragile. Needy. I spread my thighs apart, letting you see the pink wetness you’ve created in me, knowing it’s tantalising for you. Knowing you can hardly stand to resist such a request. I can see the worried crease on your forehead as you step back, and for a second, I can almost believe you might just let me.
You must sense my hopes, and your eyes narrow with a harsher smirk settling upon your lips. You lean down and pick something up off the floor. And throw it at me, hitting me square on the stomach with an uncomfortable cool wetness. My panties. Soaked from the first two times you made me touch myself.
“Put them back on and come here.” You say in a tone that brooks no argument, hands going to undo your belt. “And don’t worry, love, good things come to those who wait. And obey.”