I love the way you move when I’m stroking you, over and over and over. How you quiver and shake before you climax. The way your body tenses when you finally come, hot and sticky all over my hands.
The groans and gasps of your release. I love it when you’ve already come and I keep going, overstimulating you. You love it too; I know you do. You buck and writhe and whimper and moan. Yes, my little bunny, I want to hear you. Your hands balling into fists, knuckles blanching while you grasp the sheets. Desperate to grip anything that tethers you to reality.
Yes, fuck… moan, beg me to stop. But we both know that’s not what you want. You want me to overstimulate you until you’re a brainless, mewling, sweet little puddle on the bed. My hand and my rhythm never falter as your pleas turn to desperate, wordless moans and wails.
You want me to keep stroking you until your nerves become like tv static crackling and arcing. I know you want me to keep going until your vision blanks and your body tenses before you explode again as I force another orgasm from you. You writhe and shiver in beautiful agony. All that’s left is pure, white hot sensation and pleasure searing you.
I send you hurtling into bliss with just my hands. This clears your mind and allows my imagination to find your outer limits.
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