Thanks as always to my homegurl Ang the Sweltering Celt for the theme! (Hahahahaha I can’t believe I just used the term “homegurl.”)
Strong fingers surrounded her throat, fingertips pressing into the wall behind her as the muscles in the palm clenched, severing her breath as cleanly as a hot knife through soft butter. Her toes scrambled for purchase against the slats of the wood floor, suddenly so much slicker than it had ever felt under her whole, balanced foot.
A soft voice murmured into her ear, dirty and nasty and delicious, the tiny caresses of air from between hot lips gliding over the delicate curves of her outer ear and arrowing straight to her wet, waiting, wanting cunt.
The twin of the strong hand around her throat found its way to that which wanted and pressed, stroked, evoked until every fiber of her being longed to gasp, moan, scream but still her breath was obstructed and just when she thought she was about to pass out oh god fall limp against the body in front of her that pressed her up against the wall no air can’t breathe oh god OH GOD—
The hand released. The breath whooshed. The vocal chords rang. And she came.