Mmmmm. Twenty minutes stopped working for you, didn't it, sweetheart. You nut, you feel nothing,

and you're hunting again before the screen's even dark.

So tonight I'm not giving you twenty. I'm taking all sixty.

C*ck out, fist round it, and don't you dare move that hand until I say. You breathe when I say

it. Not before. My mouth says it, your lungs do it, and in between that d*ck just sits there

fat and leaking and waiting for a woman who isn't even in the room.

And you won't know when it's coming. Brace for it and I'll go quiet. Relax and I'll drop you

straight under. Twelve times I take you up and let you fall, sweetheart, and every time your

body gets quicker at it, until the breath and the stroke and my voice stop being three separate

things in that empty head.

Mmmmm. And every drop costs you a word.

"No" goes first, because it never once stopped you. You've said it a hundred nights with your

hand still moving. Then I take your name. Then I take hers — and you'll get harder saying it,

and we'll both hear it. By the end you've got one word left in your whole f*cking mouth, and

you'll be screaming it when you ruin yourself for me.

Hands behind your back when I say so. D*ck out, aching, nothing touching it. Edged till your

wrist b*rns and not allowed to finish till I pick the second.

An hour of being told when to breathe, when to stroke, when to shut up and when you're allowed

to speak. No decisions, sweetheart. Nothing to hold. And somewhere past forty minutes you'll

figure out you like the wanting better than the nutting, and that's when you're properly mine.

Mmmmm. Sixty minutes. It'll go past like fifteen, and you'll hand me the next one without

even checking the clock.

Kantenspiele Masturbations Anleitung Necken & Leugnen 12 Breaths Down mit C4s.com