The Wall

[AliceQuine]

She stands, trembling, facing the wall. Stripped down. Hands behind her back. Her legs spread shoulder width. Because she knows how much he likes to have easy access to her throbbing, pulsing pussy.

And she waits. Waits and learns to be patient. Waits for him to walk up behind her. Feeling the air against her skin. And the electric jolt that runs up her spine when she hears his footsteps behind her. As she listens to the sound of his breathing, slow, measured, deliberate, and closer now. Making her skin tingle, her nipples involuntarily harden. When she finally feels his breath against the back of her neck.

And she gasps into that first touch. Of his fingers against the back of her legs. And how it makes her twitch involuntarily. As she keeps her eyes fixed straight ahead. Trying, in vain, to stop herself from imagining every droplet of juice dripping freely from her pussy, Slowly gathering on the floor between her parted legs.

As she feels his palm, his fingers idly making slow circles over her ass. Over the back of her thighs. Trying to find the best place to start that disciplining she's been craving for

Now be a good girl and bend over. And grab your ankles. His words echo in the air.

Sending a fresh stream of juice Bubbling out of her glistening cunt. Running down the side of her leg in an urgent trickle. Bent over. Hands grabbing her ankles. Legs spread shoulder width. Her clit pulsing. Her lips exposed, spread and dripping juice. Begging to be filled up. begging to be owned and ruined.

Such a responsive little girl...Now keep still. His words pierce through the moist silence, and make her whimper.

As she feels his fingers feather her clit momentarily, and she almost convulses. But she remembers that she's a good girl. And she’s going to come for him only when he tells her to, and not before.

So she struggles to obey. Squeezing her eyes shut, drawing a deep breath. Trying to ignore all those thoughts. Of the maddening, delicious intensity she would feel If those fingers parted her open and stretched their way in. As she feels his hand against the small of her back. Keeping her bent, keeping her from moving.

The pressure of his fingers. Massaging her lips. Slowly increasing.

Making her feel that first tremor of something uncontrollable starting to build inside her.

The touch of his fingers. The smell of his sweat drenched skin against hers.

The sound of her own breath, now panting, now ragged. And his voice. Low. Approving. Saying that’s a good girl. That’s my girl.

That’s my girl. Her fingers shaking as she tries to hold on to her ankles, legs trembling.

That’s my girl. And that moan that escapes her lips. As she feels his fingers finally slide in.

That’s my girl. Her juice dripping down his forearm. As she hears him say the words That make her splinter from the inside out.

Come for me. Come for me, my filthy little cumslut. Come for me.

Every orgasm roaring through her body. Over and over. Each one ripping through her, More intensely than the last. Guided by the voice. His voice.

Come for me, that’s right. Such a Good Girl.