Oh, bite me.
Vegans don’t get to play with leather.
So. Effing. Cute. Gunna. Cry.
The smoothness as you let it glide between your lips before feeling that vibration against your tenderness. There is a little voice in the back of your mind that urges you on to slide it underneath, to trap it against you. Even as it becomes more and more intense, that little voice compels you to fight the urge to stop it; your legs, your hands, your hips… powerless against the desires of your sex to be pushed further and further. You whisper to yourself that you can’t take any more; the voice in your mind tells you that you must… that you will.
Content created by: PleasureTorture
Image source by: New Sensations
I’m not the kind of girl who wears my heart on my sleeve - but I promise, looking for it will be worth the search.
You make me long for terrible, beautiful things…