How I Want to be Touched (F/F)

I've learned how she wants to be touched--slow and soft, gentle fingers. I've learned not to speed up when her breath quickens, to stay light and consistent, to not press harder or speed up.

She's learned to headfuck me through demanding my silence.

We usually have sex with the lights on, drinking in each other's presence, but I hadn't started planting sleepy kisses on her face until we had cuddled up to sleep. Sucking her lower lip into my mouth and gently nibbling, I feel her body respond to mine in the darkness. Curling towards me, her breath on my face, she kisses me back, hands roaming down my body.

I slowly make my way down her, circling each nipple with my tongue, sucking her breasts into my mouth and delighting in her intake of breath and gentle sighs of pleasure as my fingers trail down her torso and find their way into the thicket of her bush. Pressing down, I cover her clit with my palm, cupping her pussy in my hand and breathing into the dark, "I love you."

"I love you" she murmurs back as I cover her with my mouth. I take my time, licking the sides of her clit till her breath comes quicker. There are few places I enjoy being more than in between her legs, thighs pressed into my sides, hand tangled in my hair, or perhaps holding onto my fingers.

In the absence of light, I drink in the scent of her, soft skin and hair pressed against my face, a sweet tang beneath my tongue, tiny moans that drive me wild. Wetness drips through my own folds and every sound she makes drives me to the edge of cumming as I tease her slit.

Eventually I slide up her body, fingers returning to her pussy as I kiss her deeply, the taste of her on my lips. Her own hands roam my body, settling at my nipples which she begins to rub. Any sense of decorum leaves me at this and I'm grinding into her leg as I suck her lower lip and continue to ever so slowly slide my wet fingers up her pussy. The evening has been so sweet, so gentle, that I stiffen in shock as she suddenly grabs and wrenches my nipple.

"Shhhhhhhhh," she murmurs as I start to cry out in alarm. "Be quiet."

I work to settle my startled sounds into deep breaths and she twists harder.

I work to be quiet. I work to maintain the gentle, soft rhythm over her clit.

"Good girl," she says quietly, as her hand drifts over to my arm. My arm which is already deeply bruised and still sore from the metal binder clips she applied and tugged at the weekend before. This time I know what's coming and endeavour to be quiet as she pinches hard, twisting the skin around.

Endeavour to and fail, frantically trying to pull away from her while continuing to maintain a consistent, slow pace on her pussy.

"BE QUIET," she repeats, and I'm trying but she's pinching harder and my body wants to flee, and tense, and tighten and I fight all these urges and relax into her, ragged breathing, hot, and needy.

"I remember just where your bruises are, even in the dark," and I can hear the smirk in her voice as she grabs and pulls again. I'm more prepared this time and cut short my frantic squeal with deep breaths, rubbing my increasingly wet sex against her thigh.

When she returns to twist my nipple I'm gasping and writhing against her. The sensation has me wanting to increase the speed at which I'm fingering her to match the intensity of sensation I'm experiencing, but I know better than to do so. She twists harder and I momentarily stop, not trusting my ability to keep my hands light on her body as she torments mine. Breathe. Continue.

"I said be quiet," she scolds as she wrenches the skin on my arm around.

It's easy to endure when you can scream it out. With no where for the energy to go, it builds up inside me, drowning out everything but her and what she's doing to me.

"Baby please," I choke out, and I'm not sure if I'm pleading with her to stop hurting me or start fucking me. "Please."

The pain is sharp and hot, as she repeatedly attacks the same damn place on my arm. I've stopped focusing on her words, I know I'm meant to be quiet and I'm trying, but I'm moaning now, utterly desperate for her to fuck me. I love how she hurts me, how she drives me into a frantic, frenzied, sex hazed state. I'm no longer trying to escape away from her, but to escape into her, hopelessly wanting.

"Please." I'm definitely pleading with her to fuck me, as I swiftly become useless with need, distracted beyond my ability to touch her. "Please."

She's pushing me onto my back and turning on the twinkle lights that line her walls. "God you're fucking sexy," she purrs at me, grabbing my pussy. "And so wet."

She isn't slow. She isn't soft. She isn't gentle.

She's learned how I want to be touched.