DANTE
A
fter watching her shower and staring at her perfect body covered in soap, it was hard for me to walk away and leave her in that room without f*****g her—the heavy swell of her breasts, her smooth belly, and shapely thighs. I didn’t get the best look at her p***y, but that
was okay. Soon enough, I wouldn’t just be getting a look at it, I would be f*****g it.
I playback in my mind the way she trembled and reacted to me as I dried her off. She wasn’t sure if I was going to hurt her or nurture her, and that was right where I wanted her, straddling the line of fear, anticipating my next move at all times. I want her to crave my touch and want me, but I also need her to obey me, and the best way for that is fear.
I would never actually harm her physically, but she doesn’t know that
