exoticeva:

She love-hated that moment of anticipation, when he waited patiently, drawing out the moment exquisitely. She felt the end of the crop trace patterns on her skin, heightening her nervous tension until she was quivering from it.

She could hear his breathing, deep and even and tried to get hers to match it. Tried and failed as her breath panted out in soft gasps that told him of her nerves, her desire, her needs.

He knew if he parted the soft lips of her pussy with the crop they’d be painted with arousal. That her nipples were stiff, aching points that chafed against the sheets. He smiled. A couple of minutes longer and then he would begin. He would mark her skin, watch as it went from soft pink to rosy red. He would listen to the sounds she made as she went from muffled whimper (his good, stoic girl) to outright sobs (that’s when she was truly his). He would give her what she needed.

Only then would he put the crop down and touch her with his hands. Soothe and pet her until she writhed against his fingers and begged to be allowed to cum. He would kiss her and whisper filthy endearments in her ear. He couldn’t wait, it was time to begin.

💋