A finger trails the line at the back of my stocking, and stops at the lacy border. His hand wraps around my inner thigh; squeezes. Gentle at first, then… harder. My cunt pulsates. My breathing hitches.
Harder, hurting me.
My nipples tingle, pressing against the lace of my bra. I moan; whimper. The hand disappears.
A finger runs up the back of my other leg. I hold my breath; clench my pussy muscles; feel my wetness, knowing what’s next.
Now: double the pain. Both thighs. Gripped. Hard. Bruising me.
I exhale when he lets go. Excited.
He’s only just beginning.
Writing a story of exactly 100 words is quite a challenge. It’s a great exercise, as it forces you to look critically at what you have written, and dares you to keep to the essence of your story. Try it!
© Rebel’s Notes