DunyainWolf
Experienced
- Joined
- Jan 10, 2014
- Posts
- 35
She felt him close to her body, close enough to...do things. To violate and invade her. To ruin her with his vile touch. To raise the spare hairs of her arms. To send a feeling like cold water down her back. But he...refused to do any more. To really touch her. Aside from the purely mechanical, purely practical motion, of lowering her panties to the floor.
Kate stepped out of them fully, let her lower body free of the two garments at once, so that she was simply - bare - below the waist. The bottom of her blouse revealed her pale midriff, toned and flat.
The lights went out. The tiger moved suddenly, somehow between the half-second of darkness and the light's return, and it was suddenly on her, hot breath rolling over Kate's neck, teeth practically clamping into her delicate skin. Its huge, warm body pressed against her naked flesh. It was snarling, lightly, a thunder soaking into her flesh.
She began again. She sat back onto the desk, as much for rest as anything, and her legs splayed out slightly over time, so that her pussy was increasingly revealed to his sight. A slight patch of moisture was beginning to reveal itself on the desk between her thighs, residue of her reluctant self-pleasure, honey of her loins. Kate's fingers moved again, stirring as if from sleep, beginning to brush at her pubic hair in small circles, before pressing once more against her labia, then into herself more fully. Exploring, as expecting a sudden pain. Exploring, as though she had not just been two fingers inside herself and pumping, as though this was not a repeat performance for her landlord's pleasure.
The tiger drew back again, its movement again concealed in a flash of darkness. It was watching her again, eyes dark and flat. And making a noise like purring. Its mouth opened in something like a roar, though silent, and in a kind of surreal slow-motion. A long, leisurely, pleasured roar.
And then Kate let her eyes open, and she watched Trask. The expression was hooded in anger, in dislike and hate, but with a kind of pleasure clawing its way out of her facial arrangement one bit at a time. Every time her fingers stroked her own clitoris, her composure flickered. When she began sliding into herself again, in that crude imitation of fucking, her mouth began to open slightly, and never quite closed again for the rest of the act, a kind of subvocal moan caught in her throat, then her mouth, then spilling out faintly into the room.
Her fingers were shining with herself. "You are such a pervert." The moisture on the desk was a small pool. "A disgusting little worm." Her fingers worked faster. "Is this how you get off?" A little faster. "You blackmail people, that's the only way you can get laid?" Her voice was a hoarse, harsh whisper, the lick of a knife over exposed skin. "All I see, when I look at you is..." The word never quite made it out, whatever she saw in him. With a kind of wince, she moaned - down, towards her own masturbating hand, as if she refused to broadcast it in the direction of this 'worm'. Her legs twitched, and one foot kicked almost angrily at the desk. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck." Her nipples were sharply outlined against the blouse. A small dark mark had appeared at the small of her back, a little reminder of her sweat-inducing exertions.
Kate stepped out of them fully, let her lower body free of the two garments at once, so that she was simply - bare - below the waist. The bottom of her blouse revealed her pale midriff, toned and flat.
The lights went out. The tiger moved suddenly, somehow between the half-second of darkness and the light's return, and it was suddenly on her, hot breath rolling over Kate's neck, teeth practically clamping into her delicate skin. Its huge, warm body pressed against her naked flesh. It was snarling, lightly, a thunder soaking into her flesh.
She began again. She sat back onto the desk, as much for rest as anything, and her legs splayed out slightly over time, so that her pussy was increasingly revealed to his sight. A slight patch of moisture was beginning to reveal itself on the desk between her thighs, residue of her reluctant self-pleasure, honey of her loins. Kate's fingers moved again, stirring as if from sleep, beginning to brush at her pubic hair in small circles, before pressing once more against her labia, then into herself more fully. Exploring, as expecting a sudden pain. Exploring, as though she had not just been two fingers inside herself and pumping, as though this was not a repeat performance for her landlord's pleasure.
The tiger drew back again, its movement again concealed in a flash of darkness. It was watching her again, eyes dark and flat. And making a noise like purring. Its mouth opened in something like a roar, though silent, and in a kind of surreal slow-motion. A long, leisurely, pleasured roar.
And then Kate let her eyes open, and she watched Trask. The expression was hooded in anger, in dislike and hate, but with a kind of pleasure clawing its way out of her facial arrangement one bit at a time. Every time her fingers stroked her own clitoris, her composure flickered. When she began sliding into herself again, in that crude imitation of fucking, her mouth began to open slightly, and never quite closed again for the rest of the act, a kind of subvocal moan caught in her throat, then her mouth, then spilling out faintly into the room.
Her fingers were shining with herself. "You are such a pervert." The moisture on the desk was a small pool. "A disgusting little worm." Her fingers worked faster. "Is this how you get off?" A little faster. "You blackmail people, that's the only way you can get laid?" Her voice was a hoarse, harsh whisper, the lick of a knife over exposed skin. "All I see, when I look at you is..." The word never quite made it out, whatever she saw in him. With a kind of wince, she moaned - down, towards her own masturbating hand, as if she refused to broadcast it in the direction of this 'worm'. Her legs twitched, and one foot kicked almost angrily at the desk. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck." Her nipples were sharply outlined against the blouse. A small dark mark had appeared at the small of her back, a little reminder of her sweat-inducing exertions.