12 Days Of BDSM Christmas 2017 – #10: Do You Hear What I Hear?

She sits on an old fold out chair

On the freshly mowed lawn

Scorching in body and mind,

from the fires of December.

Yet compulsions arise,

Compulsions that compel

Hands on skin

Hands to dig

Weaving under her Grey green shorts

Pulling apart her plain pink panties,

Cotton and drenched,

Sweat and arousal.

She digs at the burden,

Glides at the burden,

Legs stretched enough apart to

Ease in three fingers,

Dancing,

Grabbing

Pulling

At her flesh.

The string of saliva on

The corners of her mouth

Stretch out and break away.

The sensation leaves behind a primal

Roar.

She can feel all of it,

Her body around the Earth,

The dirt between her toes,

The sweat on her forehead,

The air on her thighs.

And when she tweaks her nipple

Through the thin thing she calls a singlet,

When her nail,

Jagged from growing out,

Digs deep in her flesh,

She can’t contain the moan.

Fingers driven by a sole purpose,

So frantic you can hear them work,

Can smell her work,

And when her neck tightens,

When her legs cramp up,

When it hits her,

Her control is lost in the crashing wave,

And she sobs out loud.

And who was there to hear,

From across the street,

From down the road,

As she broke the possession

And once again led a normal life.

One thought on “12 Days Of BDSM Christmas 2017 – #10: Do You Hear What I Hear?

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