There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better
You'll rise up free and easy on that day
You'll rise up free and easy on that day
The torture she's experiencing is echoed in you, your body aching to press into her as she squirms against the bonds. Her need is as obvious as yours, apparent in the flush of her cheek, the whine of her voice, the way her arousal smells. Dipping lower down her body you hook your fingers over her waistband, pulling firmly to remove the final layer of fabric that shields her from you. "Beautiful," you rumble, admiration genuine as your hands return to cup her thighs, thumbs grazing just outside the luscious curls of hair.
"First I'm gonna taste ya." So saying you lower your mouth between her thighs, beginning the parade of steady, slow strokes up her vulva and to her clit. The fingers of your right hand slip into the folds of her labia; right reaches to grab hungrily at her breast. You'll follow the cues she gives you until she's writhing with need, nearly at her breaking point. You're a man of your word, after all.
"First I'm gonna taste ya." So saying you lower your mouth between her thighs, beginning the parade of steady, slow strokes up her vulva and to her clit. The fingers of your right hand slip into the folds of her labia; right reaches to grab hungrily at her breast. You'll follow the cues she gives you until she's writhing with need, nearly at her breaking point. You're a man of your word, after all.
And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air
Just when that day is coming, who can say?
Just when that day is coming, who can say?
zephyr
