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105 words
4.5
3.9k
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The struggle play...
pushing you - you pulling me...
insistent teeth on a fine gnaw
moans building to gasps,
tender build up to animal feed...
repeated scraping, griping, holding -

certain to be marked,

ecstatic with your touch.

Opening more as your fingers plunge
and you growl
"Are you mine? Say it, say it..."

resisting you slipping into the nether depths,
trying to escape the new probe, a sudden push in deep,
spreading me as I beg you "please...no..."
opening me up enough that you slide in easily
weight on my back, pushing in deeper
hand in my hair pulling me to you.

Yes.
Yours.

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