Smooth Buildup
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Arlo was swing towards me, too. I could see it. His big, bright eyes flickering across my face and down my neck, his pulse hammering just beneath his skin. The white knuckled grip he had on the mug. Arlo was as affected by me as I was him. A surge of pure, undiluted desire flashed through me, warming me from this stomach out. I can tell there's more to you, I murmured, tightening my grip on his wrist just for a moment just long enough for his pulse to start to race before loosening it again, gently smoothing my thumb over the protruding bone of his wrist. I can tell that just beneath the surface there are parts of you just screaming to break out our lows. Eyes were dark as he was watching my lips move with rapt attention. You can tell all that I can. I kept my voice low, even as I shifted a little bit closer, raising my hand on the other side of his face. He had a long strip of brown hair that I gently tucked behind his ear. I can see how good you'd be a begging. I thought he would break it this tremble, reach over and kiss me or slap me or something I didn't expect for his eyes to narrow lips to spread in a sharp, dangerous smile, and for him to pull away from me. He slowly reached where I had my hand gently pushed his own hair back, letting his index finger trail so so slowly down the ridge of his ear, the sharp jet of his jaw before his hands fell. I didn't expect him to tilt his head, lean closer and say, What makes you so sure I'd be the one begging? My throat was dry, my pulse leaping. I promise, sweetheart, I would make you beg. What would I beg for? His eyes widened as soon as the words spilled out, as if he hadn't expected to say such a thing. I grinned, Delighted. My heart threatened to break from my ribs as it beat in my chest, wild and fast. Anything, everything. You'd beg for my kiss, my touch. I'd stay right above you, my breath on your skin, in my hands not quite touching you until you were writhing and squirming just for the hope that I might press down on you. Hold your hips tight enough to leave pretty little bruises, my mouth still over you until you were crying for me to move to do anything, I'd make you beg. For every stroke he swallowed hard eyes darting around the room. His cheeks had turned from the prettiest soft pink to a delicious, rounded red shade. It was clear that though Arlo had a wicked smile and a sharp tongue, he wasn't used to dirty talk. He likely wasn't experienced in kink at all. Normally, that might have been a turn off. After all, I was here specifically to find someone perfect for my tastes, with none of the trial and error of dating. But the idea of blushing, squirming Arlo, one that would narrow his eyes and retaliation but still end up spread across my bed, begging for me. A bright pulse of heat went through me. Well, that was worth a little inexperience, and that meant he could be all mine.