There it is. Rose watches, glowing, while the fine cords in Pearl's shoulders go lax, as a shiver trickles through her, as her sigh unspools. Relinquishing. Relaxing fully into the play, and Rose couldn't be more endeared. She purrs her approval at what she sees: Pearl -- Pearl! -- stripped clean of all discretion and dignity and thoroughly, preciously debauched.
It's a sight that's yet to get old. To get even close. The valedictorian, 5.2 GPA, 99th percentile, golden scholar and honors student exemplar, and here she is: mewling and humping the mattress.
So damned cute. Trying to wriggle her martini-glass hips for any crumb of friction. All she's doing is teasing herself, of course -- there's no relief to be found like that -- helplessly turned on and nothing to be done about it. Oh, Rose's belly twists in the sweetest way.
There's still time to switch gears. Isn't there? Rose wets her lips. Could thieve Pearl's collar from its hiding place in the closet, maybe. Could pull her arms back, in a cozy little box-tie... leash her back into the living room... only let her come if she can satisfy herself on the furniture --
Still palming the beginning crease of her thigh, Rose swallows. Another time. Another time, soon.
But for now: "That's right," she hums, "It is a soothing thought, isn't it?" She toys another tap against flesh before taking a step back towards the dresser. "Let's find you something to play with."
Maybe they won't push it as far as she'd like tonight, but Rose does pull from her earlier inspiration with the box-tie harness. It's simple-looking -- just a little starfish of leather with buckles and studs -- but has proven quite challenging to anyone besides Pearl. They just lack the flexibility. (Or maybe Rose lacks the self-control to keep people tied for reasonable amounts of time.)
At any rate, it's the box-tie Rose opts for after a moment's weight. Spread-eagled Pearl is good too, of course -- an arm apiece to either bedpost as she whimpers and shivers -- but there's something very nice about having her facedown in the covers like this. Head down, and soon hips up. Offering herself whole. It might be the most decadent way to submit through body language, and Rose intends to reward her for it.
That's where the Hitachi comes in. Rose takes that, too, along with Pearl's personal wand attachment (giddy-pink, moderate texturing, soft gel cap. Pearl's sensitive.)
No point in rustling for dramatic effect when Pearl's this far gone. So Rose is quick, and Rose is methodical, and Rose has Pearl's arms pinned pretty and her hips propped perfect in under a minute. A gentle hand at the dip of her back encourages her to arch, and Rose hums. She looks good. She looks very, very good. Rich and full and flushed and hopelessly pink and fuck, her helplessness is hot. An ounce less of self-restraint and Rose might just flip her over and eat her up.
But this isn't about Rose. Not only, anyway. Her knees fold carefully on the bed next to Pearl as she settles in, again -- sets the Wand in easy reach -- and pets the soft upper of shaking thigh. So wet. Poor baby, oh. (The coverlet will take some washing after all this.)
"Quick check-in," she murmurs. In this position, Pearl's hips are about level with Rose's mouth. So she presses a soft kiss there as she strokes, patient. "Feel okay?"
no subject
It's a sight that's yet to get old. To get even close. The valedictorian, 5.2 GPA, 99th percentile, golden scholar and honors student exemplar, and here she is: mewling and humping the mattress.
So damned cute. Trying to wriggle her martini-glass hips for any crumb of friction. All she's doing is teasing herself, of course -- there's no relief to be found like that -- helplessly turned on and nothing to be done about it. Oh, Rose's belly twists in the sweetest way.
There's still time to switch gears. Isn't there? Rose wets her lips. Could thieve Pearl's collar from its hiding place in the closet, maybe. Could pull her arms back, in a cozy little box-tie... leash her back into the living room... only let her come if she can satisfy herself on the furniture --
Still palming the beginning crease of her thigh, Rose swallows. Another time. Another time, soon.
But for now: "That's right," she hums, "It is a soothing thought, isn't it?" She toys another tap against flesh before taking a step back towards the dresser. "Let's find you something to play with."
Maybe they won't push it as far as she'd like tonight, but Rose does pull from her earlier inspiration with the box-tie harness. It's simple-looking -- just a little starfish of leather with buckles and studs -- but has proven quite challenging to anyone besides Pearl. They just lack the flexibility. (Or maybe Rose lacks the self-control to keep people tied for reasonable amounts of time.)
At any rate, it's the box-tie Rose opts for after a moment's weight. Spread-eagled Pearl is good too, of course -- an arm apiece to either bedpost as she whimpers and shivers -- but there's something very nice about having her facedown in the covers like this. Head down, and soon hips up. Offering herself whole. It might be the most decadent way to submit through body language, and Rose intends to reward her for it.
That's where the Hitachi comes in. Rose takes that, too, along with Pearl's personal wand attachment (giddy-pink, moderate texturing, soft gel cap. Pearl's sensitive.)
No point in rustling for dramatic effect when Pearl's this far gone. So Rose is quick, and Rose is methodical, and Rose has Pearl's arms pinned pretty and her hips propped perfect in under a minute. A gentle hand at the dip of her back encourages her to arch, and Rose hums. She looks good. She looks very, very good. Rich and full and flushed and hopelessly pink and fuck, her helplessness is hot. An ounce less of self-restraint and Rose might just flip her over and eat her up.
But this isn't about Rose. Not only, anyway. Her knees fold carefully on the bed next to Pearl as she settles in, again -- sets the Wand in easy reach -- and pets the soft upper of shaking thigh. So wet. Poor baby, oh. (The coverlet will take some washing after all this.)
"Quick check-in," she murmurs. In this position, Pearl's hips are about level with Rose's mouth. So she presses a soft kiss there as she strokes, patient. "Feel okay?"