What Would You Do?

***Inspired by the writing "Licking Your Brain: The Art of Talking Dirty" by Dominant_Soul2 from another website. Thank you for your permission to give you credit where credit is due...and for the inspiration.***

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What would you do if we were lying in bed...

If I whispered, "Hello, my love," my lips barely touching your ear, would my warm breath tickle? Make you shudder with chills?

What if I traced your ear with my nose? If I darted my tongue out to lick your earlobe? If I gently took it between my teeth?

Would you sigh if I kissed your neck behind your ear? If I ran my tongue down to your collarbone? If I trailed kisses along the same path, nipping your skin with my teeth?

How would your body react if I told you everything I wanted to do to you?

That I would like to pull back the covers, slowly revealing your body inch by inch. That my heart rate picks up whenever I see your silky negligée draping over your curves down to your thighs. That the rise and fall of your breasts as you breathe makes my cock harden...my mouth dry. That I cannot stop myself from licking my lips when I see how your nipples pucker through the sheer lace covering them. That I would like to trail my finger along your skin from your knee up to the lace hem of your nightie.

Would your breath quicken? Your breasts swell?

When I actually inched up the fabric, my finger barely grazing your skin, my breath still caressing your ear as I spoke to you...would you let out a moan? Or merely a soft gasp, your lips parting ever so slightly, your eyes dark and half-lidded as you process my words?

Would your hips lift as the fabric crept up your thighs, waiting for me to reach where you most need to be touched? Would your mind be focused on what I am saying and doing to you, or what you want me to do? Where you hope this will lead?

When your thighs and pussy are finally bared, would you spread your legs or clench them together in desire? Would you suck your lower lip between your teeth and tilt your chin down in anticipation? You know how that turns me on.

Would your body undulate under my fingertips if I slid the fabric further up, grazing your hips? Your ribs? The sides of your breasts? Could you hear my low growl of approval over the sound of your heart thumping in your ears as I expose your breasts to my hungry eyes? Does it make you shiver again? Does it make you want me to mount you right now?

Would you lick your lips as I knelt beside you to finish removing your negligée, my hard cock at attention in reach of your mouth, your hands? What would you do if I told you not to touch me? Would you whimper? You know how that sound makes me want to delay your satisfaction. Or maybe that is what you want?

Would you protest if I tell you I wanted to tie your hands? Would you resist me? Or would you willing submit, knowing how badly you want me to control you?

When you are restrained, would you whimper again as I knelt and kissed your belly? As I licked around your navel? Maybe I could pour vodka or rum there, as we did once before, and I could lap it up slowly. Would you like that? Could you hold still and not let it spill?

Would you moan if I spanned your hips with my hands and traced the curves there? Caressed your soft skin down to your thighs and back up again? Slid up towards your breasts but didn't touch them?

How would you react if I told you in explicit detail how I wanted to touch your pussy and clit with just my tongue, but I never actually did it? Would you writhe beneath my gaze?

What would you do if I sat next to your head so I could bury my hands in your hair, massaging your scalp? Would you move your head towards my bobbing cock again, licking your lips? Would you plead with your eyes to allow you some respite?

How about when I moved to kneel at your feet, massaging each one in turn? Or when I slid my hands up and down your calves, your shins? Would you bend your knees and open wide for me?

Would your pussy be clenching with desire by now? Would I be able to smell your essence wafting up to me? Would you pull on your restraints if you saw me sit back and take my cock in my hand, realizing my intent?

Would your eyes follow my hand if I began stroking my cock? If I brushed my thumb over the tip and spread my precum all around the swollen crown? If I cupped my balls in my other hand and caressed them? Would you wish it were your hands on me? Would you mimic sucking my cock if I asked you to?

Would your body take on a mind of its own as I masturbated in front of you? Would I be able to see your pussy throb? To see it glisten with your arousal?

What if I moved back towards your head and leaned down to brush my lips against yours? Would you dart out your tongue to taste me? Or would you wait for me? Would I hear your sweet moan if I licked your lips? Feel it vibrating inside of me as I pressed my mouth to yours? Would your tongue tease mine as I entered your hot cavity? Or would you submit once more and let me taste you at my leisure?

Would I leave you panting as I broke away and swept my palm over your nipple? Would your back arch, trying to get your breast closer to my touch? Would you mewl like a kitten or growl like a tigress when I finally cupped your swollen globe and lowered my mouth to cover it? If I suckled you like a baby? If I captured your nipple between my teeth and teased it with my tongue?

What would you do if I told you I just wanted to rub the tip of my cock against your clit? Or if I said I wanted to stroke you languidly, but only on the outside? Would you come undone in my hands? Would your cries be ones of frustration or delight? Would you beg me to stop?

If I told you to be a good girl and not make a sound, would you listen? Or would you intentionally disobey to provoke a punishment from me? A spanking? Further denial of an orgasm? Or maybe a hard fucking from behind with you on your knees while I pull your hair like a leash?

Would you scream as I suddenly plunged my cock into your pussy as you wondered what I would do next, if what I said were just words? Would you come on contact, or could you hold out? Would you call my name? Would your body thrust against mine in animalistic need?

Would your body glow with your sweat as we moved together, joined in the most primitive way? Would your legs wrap around my legs, my hips, trying to draw me further into you? Would you lift your head, begging me to kiss you? Would your hands tug on their bindings in an effort to touch me?

Would you rise to the peak with me? Would you fall over when I told you to? Would you shake and shiver in my arms as I came inside of you? Would you mumble incoherently when I collapsed on you, your breasts squished against my chest, as we both came down from our highs?

Tell me, my love. What would you do?

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That's what the letter had said. The letter in the envelope that I'd found on the kitchen counter after work, propped up by an empty wine glass. The envelope that said to curl into my favorite chair with comfortable clothes and a glass of Blackberry Merlot by the fireplace.

At first, I had needed the fire for warmth, as it had snowed all day and the temperature outside was dropping into the teens. But now, now I wanted to shed my clothes. I wanted to lay down on the rug by the fire, my head propped on a throw pillow, and bury my fingers in my pussy. My pussy so swollen and wet that I knew I would come on contact. All because of your words.

I gulped down the rest of my wine and rose on shaky legs to stare out the window, watching the snow. My body shuddered. Not from the cold but from need.

A glance at the letter made me wonder if you had lasted long while composing it. It had not been typed but scrawled in your masculine handwriting. It had been penned with a purpose. And its goal had been accomplished.

That's when I heard the growl. The very manly, deep growl. A hungry growl.

I turned with a start, feeling naked—exposed—although I was fully clothed.

You emerged from the shadows of the hallway, and my throat tightened. My pussy clenched. I could not get your words out of my head.

Without another thought, I dropped to my knees, feeling the heat of the fire against my back, the heat of my arousal between my legs. My gaze locked onto the rug beneath me. I did not hear your approach, but your bare feet and the hems of your jeans appeared in my line of sight.

There was a gentle caress of your hand on my head before you spoke. "Hello, my love."

"Hello, Sir." I could not resist the need to lean into your touch.

"I see you have read my letter."

I gulped, closing my eyes briefly. "Yes, Sir."

"Lie down, my love. I would so like to know...what would you do?"

~ H