I have him waiting for me, on the bed, freshly showered. His soap fragrance lingers in the air, turning me on, heightening my desire. Towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets slowly cascading from his hair.
He sits smiling, trying to coax me with that brilliant smile of his. It won’t work. Not this time. I need what I need from him, it’s that simple.
I lay in the chair across from our bed, slide off my robe and expose my flushed skin. My fingers travel to my nipples, twisting the hardened peaks, I moan and writhe, feeling droplets of cum drip from my pussy. My eyes remain focused on him. He is my fantasy. My desire. My souls lust.
I show him, I show him the wetness he has caused in me, spreading my cunt for him to see, but not touch nor taste. I bring my devilish fingers to my mouth and lick my own juices. He stands. I close my legs, and redress in my robe. He groans and sits back down. He can only watch. He cannot touch me. His cock is hard, his towel standing 10 inches above his thighs. I smile.
“Good Daddy.” I remind him. He aches.
“Can I cum Daddy.” I tease him. His teeth bite his lips, his fists tighten. I cum. I cum with my fingers wet and tight in my cunt. I cum and release a wave of pleasure that mocks him.
“Mine.” He grunts.
His. I walk over. Place my fingers in his mouth, giving him a taste, a present of what he missed. “Yours” I agree.
But that’s all the taste he gets until he’s begged me for more. And I remind him of this as I sit back down in my chair and pull out my toy.
softly-transcending 