This is what My girl is working toward. rolledtrousers: She had a mouth that could make him lose con
This is what My girl is working toward. rolledtrousers: She had a mouth that could make him lose control. He didn’t like to admit it, least of all to her. He kept himself so very considered, his movements deliberate, his thoughts even more so. That should could wrap those beautiful plump lips around him and make his brain instantly short-circuit was something that he treated with a mixture of deadly excitement and healthy caution. And so he turned it into a game, something she had to earn, something he could build up to. That way he minimised the time he was lost between her lips, denied himself the thing he wanted most, but managed to keep himself in check. He could tell it worked on her, too; she would beg and plead, try to sneak her head onto his lap if he wasn’t looking. He enjoyed that. More than he’d tell her at the time. The flipside was that she would pay him extra attention, hone her technique in an effort to make him be far too enamoured with her mouth to ever deny it to either of them. That worked, too, far more than he would tell a soul. But still he resisted, for the sake of his control. Denied him. Denied her. She had her lips around him now, her cheeks hollowed in that way he found painfully beautiful. He wasn’t in control right there, despite his hand in her hair and his hips dictating the pace. His brain was happy mush, blindly firing synapses and neural fireworks. One particular nerve ending fired off into brainy aether, and it triggered a little revelation. He was being an idiot. Completely, utterly idiotic. Losing control like this wasn’t a threat to his Dominance, it wasn’t even really losing control. It was accepting pleasure, and rolling with it. So he accepted it, and rolled with it. -- source link