Lick dear.
From the bottom all the way up.
I want to feel your tongue on every inch of it.
I want to know how much you crave it.
I want you to leave some spit behind.
And I want to see your eyes open while you do it.
Convince me.
Make me believe that you really want it.
Moan.
Breathe heavy.
Then beg.
Do it right dear, otherwise all you’ll get to do is lick.
-Sir
(via thisgirl-lovessex)
Submission, story.
Enjoy:
You don’t need to hear my footsteps walking towards you.
You don’t even need to hear my voice calling you.
All you need is the scent, my cologne, my smell.
You know I’m here, don’t you dear?
Before you even feel my touch, before I pull your ass towards me…
You know.
But now, you feel my cock, throbbing under my jeans.
Your ass, your bare skin pressed against the material.
You start to grind your hips up and down.
Feeling my cock through them.
Knowing just how much of a tease you are.
My hands feeling as much of you as they can.
Your ass, your legs, those sexy stockings you put on just for me.
They travel where they want.
Your sides, your chest, under your bra.
I pinch your nipples.
You don’t fight what you know you can’t.
Your throat.
As I get a good grip, I pull your head down, pressing you down and holding you in place.
By now, you know to behave.
To wait where I put you and take whatever it is I give next.
I unzip my pants, you only hear the noises but you know what they mean.
You get wetter.
My cock against your undies.
Rock hard.
Throbbing.
Is this what you want dear?
Is this why you so egarly teased me tonight?
I rub my cock around your ass, making sure it touches every inch but the one place you want it to.
I use it to slap your ass.
I use it to do everything but fuck you.
It slides between your legs, over your undies.
You feel it graze across your clit.
Over and over.
You want more, don’t you dear?
Why don’t you come earn it then.
I let go of your throat and walk away.
I sit down in a chair.
Crawl to me.
You get on your hands and knees and crawl slowly.
You stare into my eyes, then look at my cock, back to my eyes, then the cock again until finally you get to it.
Go on dear… Show me how much you’ve waitied for it.
Without another second wasted you take it all in, every single inch until all your throat feels is my cock.
Bobbing up and down, letting your tongue taste all of it.
Your spit, sliding down.
Your mouth, still hungry for it.
I grab your hair.
I push your head down.
I hold you there.
I make you go up and down as fast and as hard as I want as I thrust into your mouth.
Without struggle, you do everything I want.
Then, I pull your head off.
Good girl.
I get up, grab you by the hair and make you crawl back to the bed, following my grip.
Now, are you ready for the fucking you’ve been waiting for?
You earned it.
-Sir
Just how long have you waited like that?
A few minutes?
Half an hour?
An hour?
Two?
Inching your undies down each time you thought of what I would do when I saw you like that.
The lower they got, the wetter you did.
Well dear, I wont make you wait any longer.
-Sir
(via yesitsallme)
Your hands
Bound
Thirsting for my touch
That strong grip
Filled with intent
Intent to tease
Intent to please
Intent to own
The second you feel it
You melt
Melt into my grasp
Knowing that I know
just what to do
And this is where you let go
Lose all control
Eager to turn it over
Eager to give yourself to me
This is where you feel home
In my possession
At ease
Thirsting for my touch
-Sir
(Source: d-i-a-b-o-l-i-c)
Don’t worry, it’s all over now.
Feel my fingertips as I run them across your red, stinging, sensitive ass.
They move up and down each cheek.
Sliding between your legs.
Rubbing up and down your undies.
After pain comes pleasure, remember?
So just relax and enjoy dear.
-Sir
(Source: daddystigerlily, via secretsandsubs)
Lets see your best tease.
You may only use your mouth, boxers stay on.
Show me what you can do dear.
-Sir
(via dreamsfordinner)
Once in a while, a little reminder is needed.
A reminder that lets you know you’re mine.
This reminder could happen at home or out during dinner.
It could happen at a party, while we’re at a store or even in the middle of the street.
There may be no warning.
No hint.
You’ll just feel my hands reach under your skirt, push your undies over and slide inside you.
You’ll see my eyes, staring back into yours. Not breaking contact.
I’d hold you there, frozen for just a second before I pull out.
Then we would resume what it was we were doing.
Only now, you’d be reminded.
You’d know.
You’re mine at all times.
-Sir
(Source: jinxxxee)
Dress up for me.
Assume the position.
Hold.
I’ll do the rest.
-Sir
(Source: nsf56k, via tiemedownsexmeup)
Open your mouth and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise.
-Sir
(Source: slavegabi, via littlesbmissive)
Reading, such a relaxing thing to do.
Each letter forming words that compile sentances.
Stories.
Thoughts.
Desires.
What is it you’re reading dear?
Something interesting? Something calming?
Why don’t I read you something.
Would you like that?
My own special story, just for you.
Me sitting down, your head in my lap.
As you listen to me talk, read you my story, you get lost in it.
My words, rolling off the tip of my tongue.
You can almost see each letter.
Each curve.
But you’re so lost you forget to pay attention… all you hear are phrases…
“…pin you down…grab…force myself into… holding your wrists…”
Do you like this story dear?
Then pay attention.
You realize now that this whole time your mouth has been open and your tongue out.
My pants, wet from your spit.
You feel something under my pants, my cock is hard. Your lips surrounding it.
I didn’t tell you to stop yet, did I dear?
“…up against the wall…spreading your legs open…”
I look down and see your eyes closed, your hand reaching down to your already wet little undies.
I smirk as I keep reading, feeling your mouth still longing for whats under my pants.
But I’m not done with my story yet.
You rub outside your undies, with each word putting more pressure down.
“…my tongue…across your skin…grabbing your hair….”
You rub harder, feeling your fingers soaked.
Your eyes closed.
Rubbing.
You lose yourself again.
Until you feel my hand grabbing yours.
Pulling it away, I tell you the story is finished.
Now dear, it’s time to write our own.
-Sir
(Source: nuuro, via wemakeithot)
