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Heart fluttering, secret whispers Along my spine, like prosaic rivers. Ode to cunnilingis My arms lock round your trembling thighs, My hands bolted round your squirming wrists, My lips brush your slit to the chorus of your sighs, Awaiting my hunger your quivering turns and twists, I drag my tongue the length of your melting core, You push your center to my teasing lips, Your unrealized desire, a lust that turns sore, My teeth hold you in place with its firm but gentle grip,... My hand roams across your waist, over your ass and finally starts rubbing your legs. You listen through the room's solitary restlessness.

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We’d made a list of all the BBQ places we planned to hit... These thoughts and more race through my head as my current victim tries to fuck my dead pussy. As with previous Bedtime Stories you will occasionally need to make verbal responses to my instructions. Both are whispered, out of real time, yet immediate as the throb agitating your grasp.

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