“We’re bad for one another, Punky. One of us will get hurt,” I state, moaning when he rubs over my c**t. “And that person will be…you.”
He scoffs, amused by my claims. “Yer so confident, are ya? I don’t get hurt, Baby. I’m the one who causes pain.”
To emphasize his point, he begins to finger me relentlessly. I desperately want to come, but he won’t permit it. I like and hate his dominance all in the same breath.
“And when I find out who y’are…y’ll regret not tellin’ me when ya had the chance.”
My body is a live wire, demanding a release, and when Punky plays with my c**t, I think he’s going to give in. But nothing is ever that simple with him.
Rocking my hips, I encourage him to go faster, harder, but just as I gasp, on the cusp of letting go, Punky removes his fingers.
“No!” I cry,
