What even is control?
I want it… and I want so badly to lose it.
I’m with my FWB. We’re laying on his bed. Three hours in and we’re already tired from sex, but our mutual love of kissing and spooning brought us into a unique position.
He’s nearly underneath me. My breasts exposed to the cold air of his room. His left hand is resting on my bare thigh, fingers lightly brushing against my labia. His right hand holding my neck firmly. I’m pinned.
Heat spreads from his skin all along my back. My left hand reaches up – constrained movement allows only my fingers to be able to reach his chin, as our lips press together softly.
He slides his fingers from my clit downward and pushes them inside of me. I gasp. I should’ve have been surprised, but I was distracted by his mouth.
He begins to slowly move them in and out. My right hand moves from my breast to my clit.
We’re undulating and get lost in time. My tongue dancing around. My fingers circling.
I’m pulsating. Waves of pleasure with each movement and exertion of my hips.