Control 31

You tell me that the anticipation that builds when you won't fuck me is good for me, that it makes me all that more appreciative. I personally think that's all a bunch of bullshit, but I smile and pretend that's all it is, just anticipation, even when I feel the need pulse through me harder and harder trying to break free, I can't sit still, and my pussy stays almost embarrassingly wet. Anticipation my ass, this is just another way you tease me. Another way I learn what it is to lose control.

What you may not know, however, is how much I enjoy it. How much I need to hand over control. How much I want to feel your body against mine, your fingers, your hands, your mouth, your words moving me, controlling me, making me ache with the need to be controlled.

It scares me how badly I want it, this lack of control. I want to feel your hand on my clit, taking me to the brink of an orgasm only to move away and leave me whimpering for more, begging for more. I want your hand around my neck, allowing me to breath under your command, and only then. I want your mouth against my ear, telling me the things that you'll do to me.

You whisper in my ear words that scare me, frighten me to my very core, and yet even now, my pussy is wet just anticipating those words. This morning you told me you wanted to fuck my pussy, and I haven't been able to sit still since then. My pussy contracts and floods my panties with sweet sticky juices. You made me cum, and if I hadn't had my hand pressed hard against your dick, I would never have known you were affected by the encounter. Your cool, collected demeanor infuriates me.

I strive to stay on my feet as my pussy rebels at the abandonment of your fingers and you walk away, out of the room oblivious, or so it seems. When you turn around and crush your mouth over mine, I tentatively touch your hard dick again behind your jeans, and smile a little at the small pieces of control I keep, I still know that I have affected you, that I have caused this hard as steel reaction from you.

I turn and lean against the table, flipping my skirt just a bit to show you the black lace panties I know you like. I hope to entice you, interest you enough to fuck me. I look over my shoulder and when I see you unzip your pants I smile. I turn and drop to my knees, hungry now to have your dick in my mouth. I smile as I wrap my fingers around your dick, I had forgotten how big you are, how well you fill my hand, my mouth, and hopefully soon, my pussy. I gasp as you lean against the counter and slowly fuck my mouth, tears spill from my eyes at the panic I can't quite control. I can't breathe and you just push farther into my throat. The lack of control scares me and makes me groan in anticipation at the same time. I'm still tentative, so worried I'm not pleasing you, but you tell me you want to cum in my mouth, and I take it as encouragement.

You reach down and lift me up to my feet. Turning me around, you push me hard onto the table. I pull my skirt up over my ass and beg you to fuck me. "I'm so wet, please fuck my wet pussy."

You stretch my pussy wide open as you slide your dick into me, my whole body trembles as the orgasm shocks me with it's ferocious power. Your fingers assault my clit as you continue to fuck me hard and fast. I can hardly breathe as one orgasm is followed by another, then another. I turn to watch you as you pull out of me and cum all over my ass. I smile as I feel it drip down my thighs, the same thighs that are still trembling from the orgasm I'm still feeling. I smile over my shoulder, satisfied in the basest sort of way.

My legs won't stop shaking, I can hardly stand, and drop to the chair before I fall to the floor. I know this is all amazingly average for you, but it is nothing of the sort for me. I feel so good still, I revel in the little aftershocks that make me shiver as I watch you lean against the counter. Amazingly average? No, not exactly.