Let me hear it, you say, after I told you I woke up wet from a dream about us.
Taste it, you say, and my fingers went to my mouth.
That’s how it is, for us. In media res, in the middle of everything feverish, heat rising from my skin, my body vibrating with pure need. That’s how it is to want you—I only have to reach down between my thighs and know you’ve made me like this—wet, restless, wanting to be filled.
Spit all over that wet cunt, you say. Rub your clit hard for me.
And I do, oh I do. I open wide for you, so lewdly displayed before your eyes. The knowledge pleases you, that you will be the only one to see this, my wild abandon, my desire to please.
I want us to always be messy and sloppy when we fuck, I whisper. Your dark eyes follow my every movement.
I think of your mouth, your skin, your cock. You are everything I want, and yet your words—your words are what will reel me in. Always your words.
I want to taste your pussy then eat your ass, you say. Then spit into your mouth before I put my cock inside.
Yes, I gasp, yes.
Will you twist your nipples for me, baby? A question, but also a command. Will I ever say no? My fingers start to move but then—
Oh, I have an idea—
And there’s my toy in my hand, being turned on, being urged to put on my clit.
Then the phone rings—
I have to go sign for a delivery downstairs. I’m wet and my nipples are so hard. Fuck.
No panties, you say.
Damn, I gasp. Fuck. I hurriedly put on a shirt and sweatpants, feeling my juices run down my leg. Trembling, I was out the door in a hurry, in the elevator, down to the lobby.
The security guy tried not to look at my chest as he rummaged on the desk for my package. He held out a pen for my signature, catching the sight of me—wild hair, red lips, goosebumps on my skin. He sniffed, catching the smell of me—almost dropping the pen.
I almost wanted to run away. Hurry back, I could almost hear you say.
I signed and backed away, grabbing the parcel, breathing hard. My nipples poke through my shirt, reminding of what—and who—is waiting. In the elevator, I pushed a hand down my pants then licked my fingers clean.
Put it on four, you say. The toy back in my hand and back on my clit. Fuck, it feels so good.
Rub it in, you say. Keep it on your clit while you twist your nipples. Do it. Twist harder.
I feel so warm, like I’m going to explode.
Twist and hold for ten seconds each, baby. Count.
I look at the ceiling, my breaths coming in shorter, my thighs shaking. I count. You sound so sexy, baby, you say.
I feel sexy. Craved. I want to taste all of you, you say, as I fight not to rise from my body. I want your juices on my tongue. On my cock.
Put it on eight now, and press it hard against that clit. I want you on the edge.
Fuck. Who was I before this, and how did I live? I moan—I need you so much.
Spank that clit five times. Now.
I whimper. That’s my pussy, you say. I can use it however I please, baby.
All yours, I gasp, as my palm meets my clit and my hips move forward.
I want you on the verge of cumming. I want you to beg me to cum. I want you on edge.
I don’t know if I can, I groan, my body beginning to recognise its limits. Fuck, I say. Fuck.
Hold on a little longer. Imagine those juices on my cock as I thrust deeper and deeper into that tight little hole.
You run your tongue all over my body. From my lips to my nipples to my clit to my ass. I want all of this, baby, you whisper. I want all of my baby.
I buck against you, wanting release. You remind me of the toy in my hand. Press harder.
Look at how horny you are, you marvel. Daddy’s little cumslut.
I open my mouth and I don’t even remember what I’m saying. I’m babbling. Maybe.
So beautiful, you say, breath soft on my skin. I can’t keep my hands off you.
Fuck me, I demanded. Fuck me any which way. Fuck. I want to cum.
Is that how you ask, baby?
I laugh helplessly. I’m so gone. I can’t think straight. I will my mind to come back, my heart beating so fast.
Daddy, may I please cum, I say softly. Please, I whisper. Please. Please let me cum.
That’s more like it, you chuckle, though not really giving me an answer.
I try to move though I really can’t, the toy still mercilessly moving against my clit. Please cum inside me, I moan. Please fill me with cum. Breed me.
I will fill you with my cum, you promised. No longer laughing. Holding your cock, leaking and ready. I will fill you load after load. Deep inside your womb.
Yes, I groan. Yes. Yes. Yes. A rhythm of want.
I’ll let you cum under one condition, you say, your cock teasing my cunt.
Tell me please.
You have to cum as hard as you can. Don’t hold back at all. Make it good for me, baby. I want your voice. Your moans. The sound of your wet cunt. I want you to cum with me inside you. I want to feel your pussy tighten around my cock. Now, baby. Cum now.
And just like that I’m flying.
Lick it clean, you say. I hold the toy to my mouth and tasted myself.
Your words—everything you say to me—it transcends me to a deeper level of want. I need more and more of you. You’re a madness I can’t escape, and I’m not even sure if I want to.
I know exactly what you want, baby. This pussy has my name on it.
I clamp my thighs around your hand as you hold me possessively, loving this ownership, looking into your eyes, knowing this is right where I should be. Here. Now.
Later, when we are full of sleep, your warm body enveloping me, you whisper in my ear, did you do your task, baby?
What did you tell yourself today, you ask, your voice soft, gentle. Tender. Your lips on my neck.
I took a deep breath: I am alive. I am wanted. I am desired.