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✿︎--𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬
"Have you been good?"
His voice is soft, husky while his hand travels along the elastic band of his shorts.
Their black, tight fitted,and made sure to see the shape and girth of his shaft.
I want it in my face.
The scandalous thought filters through my head and a little sigh of humiliation leaves me.My eyes trail the comments as they stream into the little chat box in the corner, some are telling him they've been good, others rather want the punishment that accompanies them being bad.
I am neither.
Maybe somewhere in between yeah, but I don't think I've did something as much to be good or bad.Denying my boyfriend sex when I was clearly not in a good mental state of mind would be draining, and his onslaught of insults proved just how much deeper I would've fallen into the pit, had I relented and let him in me.
Good I guess?
The fact that I withheld taking a gorgeous, scrumptiously filled woman home with me, who also saved me from being publicly mortified, could maybe be accounted as bad.
Yes,bad I think.
But I refrain from typing anything, I'm perfectly sated just listening to his talking, smooth and deep, the words go in my ear and stay traveling the confines of my mind.
"You've been good then, I hope. I don't want our last night for a while to end in a punishment..."
What?
What did he mean by that, and why was it like receiving the news that it was the end of the world?
Maybe I was exaggerating a tad, but the thought of his weekly streaming off the grid for a while, not being able to let go the tension,the tension he so easily seemed to evacuate from my mind when I needed it.
Damn, this was kind of psycho bitchery(witchery), just how much I've actually become to depend on an stranger, his smoothed long fingers, palms that I've imagined tracing my skin, the mole poised on the tip of his nose as his sensually shaped lips tugs up into a smirk.
Devastating, I tell you.
Not paying it that much regard, my fingers tap across my keyboard, the comment sent before I could think thrice about it.
