10 minutes? My fingers have brought your skin alive. Indian XXX You speak again. You know your mind. How long has it been? We’ll see. And so you resent and revile your own baser instincts- your tearing, teeth-on-edge irritation at yourself that your own wants and desires pull you off the predictable, relentless beat, towards your off-beat, fallible pulse instead. Why don’t they listen? ‘OK. On one hand: determined, driven, certain. I doubt you mean that. You can’t hide them. You know who you are. You make my rope bite harder. I doubt you mean that. I ignore you and go back to my lazy, endless caressing. And I raise my hand high. Predictable; fixed; rigid; relentless. I ignore you and go back to my lazy, endless caressing. You make my rope bite harder. The tedious spinsters who whisper behind their own cunt-stained fingers at the only girl in the office who’s ‘getting any’. You’ve been bound like this, tied; helplessly forced into the most exposed and open of positions for a while. ‘Good. Clearer. Why don’t we count together?
