Part 2 of 3.
I'm back. No wifi excuse this time. "I figured we should stop pretending." 😏 I set the rules: you watch, you stroke, you wait. Lingerie barely holding on as I tease — tits brushing close, almost touching, never quite. "We'll see each other every day after this. Complicated. No going back." 🔥
I count you down slow, enjoying your ache. Then the mask slips: "I haven't actually talked to anyone in weeks either." Just loneliness, matching. Not pity — us. 💔
You're right there, about to break — when I stop. Smile. "Not tonight. Tomorrow. My place."
Door closes on your edge. What am I like when I stop holding back? 😈
