Stop fucking talking, asshole.
We reach for the covers, gently pulling them off her body. She stirs slightly but keeps sleeping, blissfully unaware of us standing there or of the dark, hungry thoughts swirling through our broken mind.
Why the fuck did you have to capture our attention, little princess?
Our eyes slide over the silk pajamas she’s wearing—pink, of course. Slowly, we lay our hand on her shoulder, gently rolling her off her side until she’s on her back. Her faint scent of violet and vanilla teases our nostrils.
Her chest rises and falls as she blissfully slumbers. Shecontinuesto blissfully slumber as we slowly undo one button of her top after another, until it falls open.
She’s got lovely tits. Small and pert, capped with pale pink nipples that tighten in the coolness of the air under our gaze. A soft whimper escapes her lips as we cup one in our hand, feeling the nipple pebble against our palm.
How receptive.
The bottoms are merely tied with a bow on the drawstring. That opens easily enough, and we swear, it’s almost as if she’s lifting her ass to help us as we peel them off her hips down to her knees.
Fairly plain, pink panties are all that cover her now.
Does she have a psychological aversion to other colors?
Fuck you.
Fuck US, motherfucker. Keep going.
Our dick is painfully hard, tenting the front of our slacks as we reach for the panties. At first, it’s just a single finger that we drag up the seam between her thighs. A soft whimper escapes her sleeping lips, her brow caving just a touch.
Her fucking hips rise a little as we cup her pussy through the panties.
She’s warm.
She’swet.
You’ll be our fucking undoing, princess.
Our fingers slip into the waistband, oh-so-gently tugging the lace from her hips, peeling it away from her sex.
Fuck.
Her tits are lovely. But her pussy isexquisite.
It will look even more exquisite stretched around our cock, yes?
Agreed.
So what are we WAITING for?
Our belt jangles quietly in the stillness of the room, and we groan as we pull our swollen, leaking cock free.
Do it, pussy. Split her in half with our cock until she’s dripping all over it like a good little slut.
It’s amazing we aren’t in jail with your lack of impulse control.
Less talking. More fucking.
Our hand hovers over her pussy for a moment, barely millimeters above her glistening pink lips, as if denying ourselves is a means of foreplay.
I have a better idea.
Slipping her silk pajama pants off entirely is simple enough. The panties are slightly more challenging, so as to not wake her. But in the end we triumph.
