שטויות שרשמתי בפטלייף

You've counted the minutes, the days & the weeks since your Dominant has allowed you to touch yourself to fulfillment.

Like drip irrigation, keeping you fresh and full of life. The only sexual gratification they've given you is the random pull and a good fondling or a sensual kiss that lasted much longer than it should have.

You, little pet, much to your chargin; were starved of orgasms.

Every touch, every milimeter of their skin touching you could have you swivel between two states like a metronome of "You've gotten on my nerves" to "Fuck me numb already"

Every warm or cold breath on the skin of your neck, like an invisible arm having you feel like you're grasping to the memory of being devoid of air.

Every intimate moment found to be containing less and less garments, just to push you to the edge of being edged.

Let you reach a point where you gaze at them and their corresponding genitals with avarice.

Could you last any longer, pet?

Could you keep yourself together at the seams?

You've been a good girl, but have you been great?

Let your thoughts gnaw at you, lose yourself to the senses.

You look cutest when you're grasping for straws, trying to make sense of why you're not being fucked into a new zipcode.

The frustration and the need to be toyed with going together rather splendidly.

Rejoice, little pet.

Hearken to the heartbeats.

Stop being a little platter of melted butter.

The day will come, you will cum.

Whether you'll over their lap, bouncing up and like a good little pet and your legs akimbo.

Grasp at the straws & gasp for the air you're being deprived of.

You've been a good girl, time to make you great.