Delectable Deviants

How wet does it make you, knowing i’m watching, jealous as fuck that his heartbeat is thundering behind you, that you’re looking at me while positioning his cock at the entrance of your sex.

Seeing your gaze collapse into eyes closed and into sensual sigh as his length slides all the way inside.; as your hand moved behind and pulls him in deeper, deeper. the way his fingertips take you by surprise as they brush over your clit, then just a little further down, so as to smooth your betrayal all over and make it worse, more, naughtier.

As he fucks you with more intensity I see through your blushes, of desire and flustered, wondering what I’ll do. Will I stay here and watch, as you see me harden in my jeans regardless of my unspoken feelings?

Will I unzip and play for you, watch you as if nothing more than a slut on my laptop screen and wank until I cum hard all over my hand, my clothes?

As you lick your lips I know you’re thinking of me moving over and pushing my cock into your mouth, so you can taste the jewel of just what you’re doing to me, consciously or unconsciously - and that you might impress your apology upon me; lest I don’t take out my rage on your mouth.

What if I moved behind him, pushed my cock deep inside him and fucked all my anger into his arse, as he lays almost still deep in your cunt, the only movement the aftershock of my thrusts, and when I cum inside him - his scream naught but the precursor to him spunking hard deep within you.

Yet you’re looking at me, you can’t read me, so many options and emotions running through you, a number you don’t know I have on my mind.

Yet you just don’t know. It’s shivering through you in lust, obsession, desire, shame. And yet the purrs it brings forth are just so fucking delicious. But for now I wear my finest poker face, wondering to which side of the divide my decision will lie

(via tumblrafter-dark)