His breath hitches as I inch closer, the air charged with anticipation. I trace a finger down his chest, reveling in the sharp intake of breath this elicits from him. There's no turning back now, no lingering shadows of doubt — just the raw intensity of our connection.
Sliding my fingertips along the ridge of his arousal, I can feel the heat emanating from his throbbing desire. My heart races as I wrap my hand around him, savoring the weight and firmness in my grasp. His body responds eagerly to my touch as he gasps for air, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. With each flick of my wrist and gentle squeeze of my palm, I can feel him growing harder for me.
Gone is the usual submissive role I play, for tonight I am taking control. I continue to tease and please him with my deft hand, feeling his cock grow more eager with each stroke. He gasps and moans, begging for more, but I refuse to give in too easily. I want to prolong his pleasure and make him ache for release.
With every touch, I am fueling his need for me, the desperation in his eyes leaving no doubt in his mind that he craves my touch above all else. As I maintain my firm grip on his throbbing cock, I can sense his surrender to my dominance. I continue to tease him, alternating between gentle strokes and firm grips, pushing him to the edge of ecstasy but never allowing him to fully tip over.
Does he yearn for her touch as much as he does for mine? Is his longing just as fierce and his need just as raw? This notion—the image of him aching for another—ignites a wild urge to claim him, to etch into every fiber of his being that he is irrevocably mine. As I tighten my grip, his moans grow louder, a symphony of pleasure and submission. The thought of him craving someone else's touch only fuels my desire to dominate him completely, to leave an indelible mark on his soul that no one could ever erase. With each touch, I am driven by the primal instinct to dominate and ensure that he belongs to me and only me.
The intensity of his moans and the way his manhood pulsates against my palm only fuel my desire to keep him in this state of delicious torment. To further tease him, I lean in closer and whisper in his ear how much I want him and how long I've been craving this moment. I can feel his body trembling with excitement as my words sink into his mind, arousing a primal hunger within him.
"Anna," he breathes, his voice filled with a mixture of impatient yearning and surrender. "Babe, I missed you so much. Please, don't stop."
I can sense the vulnerability in his plea, knowing that he wants me just as much as I want him. With each movement of my hand on his pulsing member, he whispers my name like a prayer on his lips, his desire growing stronger with every touch. I cling to his gaze, its fiery intensity igniting a primal longing deep within me.
My body quivers with the urge to take him into my mouth and taste his throbbing desire. Throwing off the sheets, I reveal his naked form, his hard member glistening in the soft moonlight with beads of precum dripping from its tip.
I nestle between his spread legs, staring into his smoldering eyes as my tongue dances around the tip of his shaft, savoring the intoxicating blend of his and her essence. It's always been my fantasy to have a threesome and lick her juices off of him while he watches. The bitter-sweet flavor arouses a primal desire within me, and I slide him deeper into my waiting mouth without hesitation, his arousal visible in the way his breath hitches and his grip on the sheets tightens. My soft, plush lips wrap tightly around his shaft, hungrily exploring every inch of his pulsating length. With every inch that disappears down my throat, I can feel his erection growing exponentially; it's almost too much to handle, but I eagerly fight against the urge to gag in order to take him fully.
As his soft tufts of pubic hair brush against my eager lips, I am consumed by the intoxicating scent of her feminine desire mixed with the primal musk emanating from his manhood. My thoughts race with the perverse realization that he has just been buried deep within her before being enveloped in the hot wetness of my mouth. The illicit thrill fuels a wildfire within me, driving me to lavish him with ravenous indulgence as his ecstatic moans crescendo in the air. His fingers tangle in my hair, and his firm grip spurs me on, begging for more as I expertly maneuver my mouth up and down his hardness.
Every stroke and swirl of my tongue elicits a low, guttural moan from him, erasing the memory of her as I become the focal point of his desire. With each sensual lick, I claim him as my own and take control of his thoughts and fantasies. Each powerful suck sends pleasure waves throughout his body, reminding him that he is now mine to command. His ecstatic moans fuel my desire as I seize complete control of him, using every inch of my mouth to claim what is rightfully mine, and he can only surrender to the overwhelming pleasure I offer. Every gentle nibble and flick of my tongue reinforces my dominance, rendering him powerless to resist. He is completely at my mercy at this point, willingly submitting to my control.
"Anna, stop, or I'm going to lose all control," he manages to gasp out, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and longing.
But I can see in his eyes that he doesn't truly want me to stop. He craves the intensity, the power play between us that ignites a fire within both of us. Pretending to indulge his plea, I let his cock slide out of my mouth, a wicked smile playing on my lips.
Moving on top of him with a predatory grace, I straddle his hips, reveling in the power I hold over him. The moonlight casts a halo around my naked body, giving me an almost ethereal glow. His hands reach up, aching to touch, but I gently push them back. Tonight, I command the rhythm and the space between us. In this dance, I lead, and he follows. His breath hitches as he watches me take control, his body trembling with anticipation.
The realization that she has known him as intimately as I have stirs a tempest of emotion—anger laced with an unexpected thrill. Her desire for him awakens a fierce jealousy in me, yet it fuels my competitive fire. Resolutely, I vow to emerge triumphant in this silent war for his affections and refuse to let her presence deter me from my goal. I will use this jealousy as a catalyst to push myself further and show him that I am the one who truly understands and completes him. With unwavering determination, I will fight for our love and prove that he belongs in my arms alone.
I lean down, my voice dripping with seduction, and whisper, "You're mine now."
Guiding his shaft with my hand, I position myself above him, teasingly brushing against his length. The hunger in his eyes intensifies as he desperately yearns for the pleasure I can provide. With a slow, deliberate motion, I lower myself onto him, savoring the exquisite sensation of being filled by his desire. Placing my palms on his chest, I begin a rhythmic dance with my hips, each thrust deeper and more intense than the last. As I move with purpose, there is no room for the past, no space for regret. We are here and now, and every motion is a word in the silent language we share.
The room fills with our shared moans and gasps as we lose ourselves in the intoxicating rhythm of our bodies colliding. With every movement, I can feel his need growing and his grip on my hips tightening as he surrenders completely to the pleasure I'm giving him.
"Is her pussy as tight as mine?" I ask as I grind against him, my voice filled with a mix of anger and desire.
A flicker of shock paints his features, and his body goes rigid. He utters a single word, my name.
"Anna..."
It hangs in the air, unfinished, as his voice falters. That hesitation, the stark silence following his stammer, says everything—confirming my worst fears. Nonetheless, a fierce resolve takes hold amidst the tumultuous wave of anger and jealousy that threatens to consume me. This is not the end; it is only the beginning of a game of control that I am not yet prepared to lose.
"Whose pussy do you prefer?" I demand, my voice filled with a mix of insecurity and desperation. His hesitation hangs in the air, leaving me on edge as I await his answer, hoping for reassurance or fearing the worst.
He grips my hips, stopping my movement. "Anna, please get off, and we will talk about this," he says, his voice filled with a mix of concern and caution.
"No, I don't want to talk; I want to fuck," I snap back, my voice cracking with frustration and lust. "I don't give a damn if you fucked her," I growl, seizing his hands and yanking them above his head.
His surrender only fuels my desire as my hips gyrate against his in a desperate attempt to claim back what is rightfully mine.