Scrawney’s dark corner of erotic filth.

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I always like it when your inner brat likes to tease.
All those cheeky messages you send when you know I can’t have you. All those times you have me in a frenzy unable to lay my hands on you.
It always makes me smirk because I know eventually it will be my turn. Each carefully calculated stroke of my fingers foucused on getting you exactly where I want you.
The brush of my fingertip strumming against your pulsating clit.
You clench and squirm trying to get the relief you crave.
I can feel your desperation getting more urgent with every stroke.
You need to cum, you need to feel that wave of pleasure.
Faster and faster, harder and harder I feel your wetness dripping off my palm.
I smile at your pained face as you need to cum all over my fingers.
The pleading look in your eyes knowing deep down you will only get to cum when I let you.
Watch you grinding your hips against my hand, desperate, depraved.
I squeeze my fingers together to pinch your clit.

Should I let you cum?
 
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