The cursor blinked, sitting lonesome on the empty page. How can one little mail be so hard to write? If only she had given as much thought to everything.

It had started a game. Hot and horny, seeking gratification, validation perhaps. She had always loved control. The mind games had been aphrodisiac. Spicing up that which to others already seemed too hot but for her was mundane. Easy to work her way under their skin. To find the buttons to press to light them up like Christmas.

Siren Call

Not much compared to the victory of feeling the click as they slid straight into the trap. Can anyone resist the siren call of a targeted seduction? Not in her experience and he was no exception. It had been so easy to unpick him. To find the strings to pull. The satisfaction of watching him unravel. Fuck yeah, give it to me, let me become your obsession.

It wasn’t nice, but who wanted nice? She wanted the dark, velvet feel of control. Allowing them to think it was their tune when really, they danced for her. She was the temptress.

Tables Turn

She can’t really put her finger on when things changed. When it was his touch she ached for, as the control slipped from her hand as easily as the sighs from her lips. Was it when he became her first thought of the day? Or when her body denied her sleep thinking of his touch? And what a touch.

Her lungs failed her as his lips traced her neck, fingers grazing down her spine. Suffocating on the very sensation he created in her. Her whispered pleas ignored as he continued his gentle assault. Hands softly carving a path through the noise in her head with their journey across her skin. It was impossible to resist.

Consuming Her

The cursor teased her. Counting a beat to time X rated flashbacks in her brain. His fingers curling up inside her. The sound of her own hungry moans. His voice in her ear as she stroked him. The moment he possessed her. Sliding deep inside her, shattering the game. Stealing her soul. Taking her in ways she couldn’t even imagine. Driving her insane with hunger before consuming her.

Nights lost, spent exploring every dark facet of the mind and body. He unravelled her, fucking her into a mess of her own creation.

Crying His Name

She found herself lost, scared by her own feelings. Reluctant to admit how easily she had sprung her own trap. Shutting down she pushed away the very thing she needed. And here she sat, staring at the screen in a hopeless spiral. Still feeling the warmth spreading through her, from her thoughts of him. Slicking her thighs with her desire for him. Reaching down she slides her fingers inside her, desperate to recreate his touch. One, two, three… and still it’s not enough. Crying his name as her pace quickens. Fingers wet, breathe short, moans loud.

Legs spread wide she continues her assault, punishing her cunt for her heart’s indiscretion. Head thrown back, haunted with the image of him, of them. “Get out of my fucking mind!” she screamed, as her insides tightened in silent response. Sobbing as her climax peaks. Flooding her hand and breaking her heart.

She steadies herself, not even pausing to clean up. Wet hands leaving marks on her keyboard as she frantically types;

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realise it. I was scared, I’ve been playing a game for a very long time. But now I know, it’s real. It’s not a game. It’s you. I love you…”


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