You come on literotica before bed.
You read a few stories.
You end up on the forums looking through threads full of filthy images.
You like and maybe even comment on a few posts.
You stay up far later than you planned.
Then you’re wide awake.
Wet.
Admit it. There’s only one way you can get any sleep.
There will be no hiding your voice, or your face, tonight. You’re going to show me the little slut you keep locked inside all day. I’m going to bring her out to play with me.
Every time you masturbate, you want to push yourself further into the depths of pleasure.
You imagine someone else in charge, forcing you to endure a more intense level of stimulation than you can normally take, forcing you to keep that toy pressed right on that sensitive little spot no matter how much your body wants to thrust it away.
You think of his eyes boring into yours, how he can see your need for more without you having to vocalise it, the way you want to be dominated, to be rendered a slave to every orgasm. Craving that presence, you keep it in place, wanting to feel your pussy tortured with sensations beyond your own control.
You don’t masturbate to simply fill the cravings of your body; you masturbate to quell the desires of your imagination.
Ride me kitten....you've waited so long to do this.....don't hold anything back.....ride my cock......yes.....harder.....go on kitten.....give me everything you've got.