youmakemeneedyou: Details It is addictive. The control. The power I don’t need the grand gestu
youmakemeneedyou: Details It is addictive. The control. The power I don’t need the grand gesture , I don’t need gadgets. I just need your mind and attention to detail. The hand around your throat, not a threat, no aggression. It isn’t needed. This is not about physical dominance. It is a signal of intent. The pressure from my fingers enough to transmit my commitment to the moment. The gentle corruption burning your skin, reminding you who you have folded in to. I hold you there with my words. These have been used all day. Small notes. Reminders. Drip, drip, drip. Just as you settle back to the day, another nudge to unbalance you. I know precisely the impact, how your body will react. How hard and soft you become in equal measure. But the beauty is in the detail. The silence as important as each word. When to send it. When to wait. Such a sweet game. And now I wrap you in chains of intention, locked in place with the tone of my voice and a look. I can feel your heat, your need burning before I even get close, your body writhing against my fingers as I trail them along your thigh. I stay still apart from a subtle squeeze around your neck and you still. Good girl. And then that first touch, your honour protected by sodden cloth. At that moment I want nothing more than to rescind all responsibility and take you, rip wet lingerie from you and drive in deep. But I don’t. My decision. My pleasure. To wait. To deny both you and I of our base desires. There is more for us, if I chose a different route. It is that which sets us apart. And ultimately will make this more. It can be over in moments or it can last forever. I chose to take you to the edge and never push you over. That never ending moment of denial. Finally, held still against your hot swollen cunt for so long, I slide my finger down those fat lips. I feel every ripple of that ripe flesh, almost taste it with my fingers. Your hips roll beneath that touch and I control you again with the hint of pressure at your neck. And I wait. Again. Not a sound, no reaction, no movement. Just the slow burn of your cunt, fizzing beneath my fingers. I watch your chest rise and fall, your belly held taut as you wait. A slow caress of my finger through the sopping material and you groan your need. My cock hard, my denial constant for both of us. I am a sadist but not for pain. Instead I want to inflict denial on you, I want to hear your screams of mercy, not for me to stop the pain but instead to permit your release. I gently hook my finger around the band of wet silk and delight at the gasp of anticipation that I’m greeted with. Little curls and swirls of flesh just moments away. And yet, ever cruel, ever harsh, I make us wait. I lean over, place my lips against your ear and I drip the words deep inside you. “Who owns you?” Your whole body clenches at those words and I know the answer before you speak. http://youmakemeneedyou.tumblr.com (Words and Pictures)http://velvet-reading-room.tumblr.com (Words Only) ‘Details’ Copyright The Dirty Romantic 2013 -- source link