Petulant and Demanding

I can almost see the words bouncing around your head now. I know I am, I’ve never hidden the fact. But you know as much as I do that I wear both labels with pride. Why, you ask? Well, that one is easy.

I want more.

Tell me, what do you think it would take to silence my acid tongue? My sharp barbs, the constant prods? You know I long to be reprimanded, don’t you? Just how saucy do I have to get to rouse you from silence?

Petulant? I could give the concept a run for its money. Will you dare term me so as I slip down the length of you, riding your cock slowly, deliberately taking my time, whispering obscenities in your ear as I come over your thick shaft? What if I slap your face as I climax, clawing at your back as my cunt tightens over you as I fuck back and take you fully into my heat? Am I petulant then, or simply a wanton whore used to getting her way?

Lets look at the notion of me being demanding. Would you honestly have me any other way? Just think of pounding into my wetness from behind, my hands bound behind my back with my face pressed against the cool sheets, me begging you to fuck me and fill my cunt with cock and come. Will you complain then of my mouthy demands, or simply accept that I know what I want and know how to get it?

You know as well as I do that you have ways of silencing me. Flip me over and kiss me deeply before you place the sash over my parted lips, securing it behind my head quickly, stealthily. With my hands still tied behind my back, make use of my vulnerability, my complete nakedness, my bare ivory skin. Lick a fiery path over every inch of me, bring me to life before your very eyes. Feel my body arch into you as you plunge your thick length fully into me, over, and over, and over again, my moans of ecstasy muffled against the sheer of fabric still covering my lips, my sodden cunt sucking the orgasm right out of you.

Or better still, unsheathe my lips, use my mouth, make me yours. Silence the slut in me as you feed me my arousal from your taut smooth prick, your salty pre-cum dancing all over my tongue. Fuck my throat slowly as my tongue feathers a path all over your slick shaft, the velvet soft of me beckoning you to just pull my hair back and explode urgently inside my mouth, teaching me a lesson for my sass, my intolerance.

Perhaps none of that will be enough, the darker part of my desire shining through. What will you do when I demand you shove your cock deep within my tight little arse? I think we both know you’d not hesitate for a split second, me on my front, your large hands easing my cheeks apart as you slide your length slowly into me from behind. I want to hear you growl in my ear as I push back, whimpering, my nerve endings on fire as your fingers graze my clitoris. Fucked and filled and drenched in pleasure, me crashing into bliss as rivulets of your come spurt endlessly into me.

Petulant and demanding, I wear both labels well. No one brings out the insatiable woman in me the way you do.

16 Responses to “Petulant and Demanding”

  1. Very sexy. I love the image of you on your belly as he fucks your ass. Hmmmm…

  2. southerngirl Says:

    It is petulance and intensity that brings out the passion in some of us dear. It is worth the conquest, if he could ever figure that out. Great writing again NS!

  3. My thanks to you, steven. It is a rather wicked image, isn’t it?

    southerngirl ~ I agree completely, and my humble thanks.

  4. Couldn’t agree with southerngirl more . . . it’s you, and you wouldn’t be the same person without that attitude. If your man is smart, he’ll never try to change or stifle that . . . just get you started, jump in, and hold on.

    Then again . . . Steven had a great point, too, lol.

    😉

    XO

  5. Jim, my man is smart enough to do just that. And yes, when is imagery of a nice arse fucking not warranted?

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  13. One delicious woman, you.

    That dangerous dance you seem to know so well. your petulant behavior crafted to balance right on the edge of what you can get away with. just how far can you take it before my need to assert control over you becomes dominant? The longer the dance, the greater the stakes become.

  14. Why thank you, EB Addis. I do walk fine lines and have fun doing so. I like to push and be challenged in kind. And it sounds like you know exactly what I mean. Yum…

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