Do you know what you do to me when you touch me with delicacy and care? When your fingertips draw lines on the plains and valleys and peaks of my body? Do you understand that my body can’t stop itself from arching up to meet your touch. You become a craving that cannot be quenched. Do you see my legs open wide for you, hoping for relief? Be cruel or gentle, it matters not to me.
Do you know what you to do me when you stroke my body slowly and softly? When you pluck at the strings of my core, playing my body as your instrument. Do my mewlings and whimpers sound like sweet music to your ears, too?
Do you know what you do to me when the palm of your hand connects with my body? Sharp slaps and stinging strikes that warm my skin and my soul. They are a balm to my spirit when the world becomes too much. Does the sound speak to you as it does to me?
Do you know what you do to me when your fingers tap, swirl, stroke, and torture my swollen clit? Do you understand that I use every ounce of self-control I possess to hold back the orgasm barreling down on me? Do you sense that the masochist in me wants the sweet torture as much as the sadist within you wants it? Our two halves come together to create a sweetly painful whole.
Do you know what you do to me when you take what you want? With no appearance of caring about my wants or needs? Do you understand that I am fulfilled knowing you’re taking, and I’m giving? There is nothing else in that moment I need to receive except the growls and grunts of the beast within, the marks left from harsh hands, and your seed dripping down my thighs.
Do you know what you do to me when you send me over the edge of my own control? When I’m lost in a sea of sensations, pain and pleasure mixing together to become something different and entirely indescribable? Do you smile as you watch me writhe under your hand or drool around your cock, knowing you brought me to this point?
Do you know what you do to me?