Welcome to another episode of Bedtime Stories with Salty Vixen. Tonight’s story is titled “No Denying”. Dear My Doctor, My Alpha Male, My Dom, Sir, the darkness blankets the sky, as the approaching witching hour sings its silence.
I long to worship and indulge you, to make love to you, to know the man who sets this restless ache, who leaves me craving always for just one more taste, who compels me to want nothing more than to coax and tease and entice your flesh to release the cream of your passion with the heated whispers of my own yearning.
With butterfly kisses and the trails of this slick, eager tongue, with hands and fingers, lightly touching, possessing, stroking, with the searing velvet dripping its sweet liquid lust, with my hips gliding, back arching, legs entwining, with the tender grip of my violent desire, with all that I am, with everything you require.
Sir, you are my obsession as I am your obsession. Let’s begin.
There’s no denying your aroused flesh.
There’s no denying the shaft, thick and hard and leaking, straining against the pinstripe suiting, the strong fist taking hold, stroking the pulsing meat, the nose flooded with the scent of sex and desire as it rises up through the layers, as it drifts up from between my splayed and lean legs, from the full lips spread wantonly wide open, from the pungent, flowing glisten painting the cunt fair and smooth and eager.
There’s no denying your possession, your domination, the commands rumbled into my ear, your longing to feel and trace my burning need, to delicately touch the tip of your tongue to my clitoris, licking with a maddening slowness and softness, demanding of my body the release of more of its liquid lust, lapping and drinking at my font of pure pleasure, your fingers tracing distracted circles on my creamy thighs, your mouth taking me closer, closer, ever closer, to the edge, to the brink before cruelly pulling back.
There’s no denying your loss of control, the moment you become my own toy for the taking, your cock throbbing and lurching, threatening to spill prematurely, your large frame suddenly upon me, your glans sliding and gliding, poised at my portal with the low, sultry confession, the unblinking yet whispered admission, it is this very scene you have played in my mind for as long as I can remember, masturbating to the thought. My inflamed sex finding regular release through fingers and mouths and cocks, through men strange and familiar, through the sunlit morning and the dark, starry night.
There’s no denying the groans and the moans as you plunge in completely, my velvet heat stretching, filling, clinging to dear thudding life, our bodies grinding, squirming, the lips begging and pleading, the screams of base, carnal abandon, the slap of your hips, the sound of your slick glans slamming, pounding, fucking my back into the sweetest dripping submission.
No, no. There’s no denying. There’s no denying you aroused flesh.
