and I was fingering her like that and she had the vibrator on her clit and she came really hard. She collapsed on my side and I just held her as tight as I could and told her I loved her over and over in her ear and she cried and it was really beautiful. I really do want to be…
As I gain control, you lose it. That’s not a direct correlation, because merely having control doesn’t mean that you have any idea how to use it. But me? I’ve got an inkling or two, and as I precisely move my limbs and digits, you’ll progressively lose the little control you had left over yours. You’ll splay, you’ll struggle, and you won’t give it a moment’s notice, because all your pretty little head can focus on is the control I’m exhibiting, and how I’m exhibiting it. Your control is less than an afterthought.
I’d play you like a cello, because a fiddle is too meagre. You’re something more powerful and melodious than that, full of texture and a richness of tone. You don’t have the tendency towards the feeble that the fiddle tends to. Instead you can be delicate, just as you can be resonate. That ‘can’ that I’m mentioning, of course, is the kind that relies entirely on me and mine.
My hands, my mouth, my cock, my words, and my words.
My control. Your loss of it.
We wouldn’t even need the cuffs if you agreed that you would hold your hands behind your back while I pumped cum deep in you, but you always feel the need to grab the sheets when your start cumming and I didn’t say you could do that.
^^this. SO FUCKING HOT. Goddamnit.
