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. Please feel free to join in, and if you do, you’re welcome to use the badge below, and link back to my page.
© Rebel’s Notes