#noahva

𝐕𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧ⵑ𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 : He’s gotten more confident, and it’s endearing, you can feel it in the way he touches you, the way his fingers skilfully move inside you, experimenting with slow and quick strokes. You hear it in his voice too, when he manages to coax another moan from your lips, your back arching off the bed as he slowly runs his finger along your velvety walls, stroking that one sweet spot.

“You like that?” he asks, but there’s no doubt in his tone—just the slow crawl of a grin across his lips. “Yeah, you do,” he purrs, mouth pressed against your thigh, his brown doe eyes fixated on you, watching the way you writhe and respond to every movement.

“What about if I do this…” His voice trails off, and a deeper sound is pulled from your throat as his fingers stroke the back of your cunt, the sensation driving something unfamiliar through you—a heat that makes you tighten around him.

“Oh, you’re more sensitive there?” he murmurs, and it’s as though he’s mentally saving that thought. His fingers keep exploring, stroking you from the inside, searching for the spot you like the most.

“I think this is the one you like the most though, right?” His fingers switch back to the front, curled and buried deep as he presses into the spongy-soft point behind your clit, making you practically purr in his hands.

𝐕𝐀ⵑ𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡: “You like that? Yeah, you do,” Noah croons into your ear, and you gasp, the wet sounds that follow his voice sending a shiver down your spine. His own moans bleed into the audio as he continues feeding the most obscene filth into your ears, crafting a dreamlike, vivid image in your mind.

“What if I go a little deeper?”

You’re following his words, and when he speaks them, it’s like a command—the toy inside you mimics the motion, driving deeper. The sensation spreads through you like wildfire, making you arch off the bed with a deep moan.

“What about if I lick your clit just like this while I finger you, huh?”

Right then, he starts making the sloppiest mouth sounds—wet, messy, deliberate. You know it’s just a prop, some toy he’s licking into for effect, but it doesn’t matter. Your fingers fumble for the Satisfyer, switching it on before pressing it in place against your aching, sensitive clit. You’ve purposely avoided stimulation under his guidance, and now you’re almost shaking from need.

“Tell me how good that feels, baby. You gonna tell me how good?”

And you do, soft, broken mewls slipping from your lips as your back arches again. You grind your hips down against the toy buried inside you and hold the Satisfyer firmly to your clit, the sensation sending wave after wave of pleasure rippling through your body.

“You gonna be good and cum for me, hm?” he continues to croon between exaggerated licks. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good, you know that? I wanna feel you cum all over my tongue. Give it to me, baby.”

His words coax you closer, pulling you right to the edge until you feel it, that taut coil snapping as heat rushes through your trembling body, sending you careening over into ecstasy.

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭ⵑ𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 : It’s a pretty sight to see—Noah sprawled out beneath you, long hair framing his face like a halo. You don’t take your eyes off his as you slowly roll your hips, circling them intentionally to feel the thick weight of his cock buried inside you, rubbing against all your most sensitive areas.

Your nails graze down along his tattooed chest while his hands grip your waist, guiding your movements. His hips lift just enough to add the pressure you’re seeking—until they buck, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that makes you moan faintly, grinning down at him.

“You like that?” he asks.

You nod slowly, a soft purring “mhm” slipping past your lips as you lean forward, half laying over him to meet his mouth in a kiss. Just as your lips touch, he bucks again, catching you off guard and making you quiver atop him, clenching tighter around him. His words melt into the kiss, his teasing smirk pressing against your lips.

“Yeah, you do.”

For a subby little thing, he can be quite the cocky brat.

𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝ⵑ𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 : Sunday mornings are possibly the best, even if the creeping shadow of Monday means losing Noah to his work schedule, he always makes up for it with a slow, lazy morning in bed, which often leads to an equally slow morning shower.

It’s no surprise you both end up there: your back pressed to his chest, his mouth trailing kisses, nips, and marks along your shoulder and neck as his hands roam freely, tracing every curve and dip, drinking you in while the water cascades over you both.

When your head tips back, he meets your mouth with a soft kiss, something so tender it draws a soft sigh from you. His fingers trail lower, slipping past your stomach, daring and teasing all at once.

What you expect to happen doesn’t—at least, not fully.

His fingers push between your folds, circling your clit in a slow, deliberate motion, as though he’s testing how wet you are for him, as if he’s just getting a feel for your body. You let out a quiet moan against his lips, and the corners of his mouth pull into a slight grin as he murmurs, “You like that? Yeah, you do.”

He coos it softly, like he already knows the answer.

He begins listing his requests, guiding you through preparations for what’s to come—as well as the aftercare: a glass of water, some snacks (preferably fruit), your vitamins, a towel to lay out on the bed, and any toys or lube you’d like to use. He’s meticulous, walking you through every step, gently encouraging you to pause and complete each one. He doesn’t rush you, not until the last instruction: for you to get onto the bed—naked.

“Now I want you to lay back and close your eyes, and keep them closed. No distractions today, okay? We’re focusing on you.” You do as he says, letting yourself settle back, your eyes falling shut. “Now take a deep breath… and focus on the sound of my voice.”

It’s easy to do, his voice has always been soothing, something he often teases about whenever someone comments on audios like these. He’s so gentle, yet there’s a subtle, commanding undertone to him—something that makes him feel domineering, but in a softer, more nurturing way. As if, with just one night together, he’d take care of you completely.

“Feel everything slipping away around you. Just relax… now breathe… inhale slowly… hold it… now slowly let it out again.”

You follow his instructions, counting the seconds in your head as he guides you through each breath. A tingling warmth spreads through your body the deeper you sink into relaxation, and everything that’s been weighing on you throughout the day begins to fade from your mind.

“Keep breathing. Keep listening to the sound of my voice. You’re doing so well.” He’s so slow in his delivery, his voice soft and reassuring in your ears—so close, it feels as though he’s right there in the room with you. As if you could open your eyes and find him hovering over you, guiding you.

“Can you feel that tingling of desire in your belly? The need you have for me? Is it slowly spreading down your thighs, growing hotter in your core, making you feel sensitive? Can you feel it in your clit?”

“Yes…” you whisper, the tingles spreading through every inch of you, setting your nerves alight with anticipation.

“Just listen to my words and feel yourself getting wetter for me.”

You do. You feel the heat blooming between your thighs, the dull ache in your clit, your fingers twitching at your sides as impatience builds—desperate to touch yourself.

“Now spread your thighs for me. Nice and slow…”

You follow his guidance as he continues to direct your touch, from your stomach, up along your torso to your chest. Your hand cups your breast under his command, fingers toying with your nipple, pinching the sensitive bud until your back arches off the bed, a soft moan slipping from between your lips.

“Now your throat… and then your cheek.”

Your hand rises higher, wrapping lightly around your throat before cradling your cheek, and his voice grows even softer in your ears—like he’s leaning in closer, so close you can almost feel his breath.

“Feel me caressing you everywhere. Feel how much I want you.”

And you do. You feel it, especially as he guides your hand back down, leading you between your thighs, dragging your fingers slowly along the inner curves and carefully avoiding the spot where you crave him most, until finally—

“Now take your finger and just slowly stroke it over your slit. Nice and slow.”

He sounds like he’s holding his breath, waiting for the sound he knows is coming—the soft, shuddering gasp that leaves your lips the moment your finger brushes over your slit. You’re already soaked, arousal spilling from you, coaxed out by nothing more than his voice and your own touch.

“Rub along it nice and slow… then bring your other hand up to wrap around your throat.”

You do and immediately feel your head grow hazy, a quick rush flooding through you at the combination. It feels as if you’re truly under his firm grasp. In your mind, you can picture his tattooed hands, how long his fingers are, how easily they’d wrap around your throat.

“Now squeeze… and imagine it’s my hand.”

You gasp, almost opening your eyes to check the room, because it feels like he read your thoughts so perfectly. You obey, the action pulling a soft moan from your lips as your hips buck impatiently against the fingers still teasing your slit, spreading slick arousal over your folds.

“Now spread with your fingers. Can you feel how sensitive your clit is?”

You can, it’s nearly torturous, how sensitive he’s made you without even laying a hand on you.

“Now I want you to play with your clit. Nice and slow. Open your legs wider for me and circle it… like you’re showing me your pretty pussy.”

His words make your breath catch in your throat. The thought of him watching you like this, your hand still wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently as you toy with that aching, sensitive bundle of nerves, sends another wave of heat rushing through you.

“Do you feel how you’re starting to ache?”

You nod, a soft whine slipping from your lips as your hips arch, pressing into the rhythm of your fingers. Your body clenches around nothing, needing more—needing him.

“Just one finger. Nice and slow.” He gives you permission, and you take the opportunity to press a finger inside yourself, feeling how you open up and clench down, squeezing around the digit as if it were him.

He continues guiding you, allowing you to add another finger, encouraging you to slowly thrust into yourself. He makes sure you take your time, stroking along your sensitive walls, feeling every inch you can reach, wanting you to embrace every sensation.

“Now we’re going to try something a little different today,” he croons. You pause, a curious furrow forming in your brow, though you keep your eyes closed just as he instructed. “I’m going to help you squirt.”

You gasp, your mouth falling open as if to protest, but before you can say a word, he’s already anticipating it, slipping in with gentle reassurance that silences your doubts.

“I know, it sounds scary. But I promise, we’ll take it easy. We have to build you up to it first.”

He keeps pushing you gently, guiding you through the rising heat in your belly, the slow, steady incline of your first orgasm. His voice croons in your ears over and over, telling you to imagine it’s his hands on you, his fingers inside you, how badly he wants you to cum for him, and you want it too, you want to give in, to be his, to be possessed by him completely, just like he keeps softly suggesting.

When you finally reach your peak, a high-pitched sound escapes you, and soft words of thanks tumble from your lips to the invisible hand that’s carried you over the edge. You tremble atop your sheets and the towel laid beneath you, but you don’t stop, not when he hasn’t told you to.

“Now curl your fingers. I want you to find that spot. We’re going to do it together. Just take it slow… run your fingers behind your clit…”

You try to focus, on his words, on the sensations rippling through your body from your own touch, until you feel it: the soft, spongy spot he’s describing. Your fingers concentrate there, rubbing gently as your hips begin to rock into the pressure, guiding yourself through the waves of your release, still riding the aftermath of your first orgasm.

“You’re going to feel some pressure, but I want you to keep going.”

You follow his instructions, your breath catching in your throat as the coil inside you tightens further. You’ve never pushed yourself past your limits like this before, and there’s an undeniable pressure—something new, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

“It’s going to feel like you need the bathroom,” he continues, “but I want you to keep going, okay? Don’t stop. I promise it’ll feel good, and if you pee—well, it’s a good thing you’ve got the towel.” There’s a tease in his tone, and you don’t miss the soft, hearty chuckle that follows, one that makes your stomach flutter with butterflies, even through the haze of pleasure.

And then it hits you—like a wave crashing through your core. The unmistakable pressure erupts into a sharp, sweet burst of release, ripping through your body with a delicious edge of pleasure. Your thighs tremble as your fingers instinctively pull away, a squirting sensation spilling out of you.

The whines that leave your throat might have been embarrassing if you weren’t alone, but your body keeps trembling, overtaken by a second climax that crashes into you so soon after the first. You can barely catch your breath, mind dissolving into the white-hot burn of euphoria. Everything else fades, even the sound of his voice, as you hover in the intensity of your high.

“Baby? Come back to me now.” His voice is gentle as he repeats the words a few times, coaxing you back until the fog begins to lift and you feel your body slowly floating back down to earth.

“You did so good for me.” His praise melts into your ears, soft and sincere, making you sink even deeper into the puddle he’s already reduced you to.

“Now just take another deep breath before you do anything else, okay? I’m so proud of you.”

The genuine warmth in his voice sends another flutter of butterflies through your stomach. Your cheeks warm for a different reason now, because it feels like he actually saw you, like he truly witnessed what you just gave him.

Keeping your eyes closed, you follow his instructions once more. He talks you through your comedown with a slow, steady countdown from five, his soft praises and affirmations never once letting up. Not until his final instructions come, reminding you to drink your water, take your vitamins, and eat your snack.

Then, just before the audio cuts out, you hear his last whisper: “Well done, baby.”

Beneath you, Virgin trembles. Your hand is pressed to his throat, his tattoo still fresh and more vibrant than the ones etched into your Noah or Himbo. His Adam’s apple bobs beneath your palm.

“Eyes on me, baby. Just look up here,” you purr, your fingers tightening around his throat just enough to make his breath stutter. A broken sound escapes him, his eyes glazing over yet still locked on you. His hands clutch at your hips, trying to guide you as you roll them slowly, grinding down to meet his thrusts. His cock is buried deep inside you, your walls squeezing around him. You can feel every twitch, every shudder, each movement dragging him closer to the edge.

You wet your lips with a slow sweep of your tongue before leaning down to catch the youngest of them in a heated kiss. That’s all it takes. He spirals, his breath catches, a meek, desperate sound slipping from him as he clutches at you, pulling you closer as he cums, filling you with a warmth that makes your lips part in a moan, as his head falls back against the pillows, breathing your name.

“Well done, baby. You did so good,” you whisper, and his cock twitches inside you at the praise, but before you can catch your breath, VA—impatient as ever, is already pulling you up, dragging you off Virgin’s cock and into his lap.

“Yeah, well done for lasting all of five seconds. My turn.” He grins cheekily, and you roll your eyes before feeling him guide himself against your wet entrance, sinking you down onto him. Your hand flies up, fingers wrapping around his throat. It’s an instant reaction, his eyes glaze over, his body going almost completely submissive beneath your touch.

Your smirk turns slow, wicked. “Oh, this is what you wanted, huh?” you murmur, leaning closer until your lips drag against his in a teasing taunt. You start to roll your hips, slow and steady, letting him fill you completely as he moans softly against your mouth.

“You want me to turn you into my toy now?”

Any trace of impatience melts away. VA nods, obedient under the pressure of your hand at his throat. You stay in his lap, bouncing in a slow, deliberate rhythm, when familiar warm hands find your body—electric and grounding. You turn your head, expecting your Noah, but it’s Himbo behind you instead.

Your Noah sits at the edge of the bed, his hand fisting his cock as he watches you, eyes dark and heavy with hunger.

Oh, how far you’ve come—from him being utterly confused by whatever rip between universes brought these versions of himself here, to now indulging in watching them with you.

The heat of Himbo’s breath at your neck makes your eyes flutter, your walls tightening around VA’s cock at the attention you’re being given. As you start to quicken your pace, a hand dips between your bodies—Himbo’s, unmistakably. His touch is soft yet large and commanding, caressing you, finding every tender, weak spot as he latches his mouth to your neck. He leaves fresh marks on top of the countless others scattered across your skin, each one a small claim.

Your hand tightens around VA’s throat, and the sounds he makes grow needier, higher, his hips jerking beneath you.

“Don’t cum too soon,” Himbo teases, his tone dripping with amusement. “A real gentleman lets their partner cum as much as they need first,” he adds with a smirk, catching the flicker of frustration in VA’s glazed eyes.

You can almost picture the pout on Virgin’s face at that, but in your mind, he’s too sweet for this kind of talk—too soft, too edible. VA, though, he’s got that mouth on him, cocky and sharp, almost like Folio. The thought makes you laugh. You can just imagine the chaos those two would cause together in another life.

“Are you close, pretty baby?” Himbo coos against your ear, and you nod, the coil in your belly tightening as your pace quickens. “Make sure you cum nice and hard all over his cock,” he murmurs, never stopping his touch or his words.

Your hand tightens again around VA’s throat again, his breathing shallow and ragged, while Himbo catches your free hand and guides it to his own throat. The angle is awkward with how he’s pressed against you from behind, but you squeeze just right, enough to make his breath hitch. Against your lower back and ass, you can feel the thick, heavy weight of his pierced cock rubbing against your skin, the slickness of his precum smearing warmth across you.

The thought of him inside you—bigger, thicker, even than your own Noah, makes your head spin. You’ve had him in your hands, your mouth, but imagining him filling you completely sends you spiraling.

That’s all it takes. You fall apart, your body trembling as your walls clench tight around VA, drawing a broken moan from his throat. He follows almost instantly, voice quivering as he cums deep inside you.

“Yeah? You wish I were there with you?” He gently clicks his tongue with an ‘aww’ sound, and his expression softens as if he genuinely is on the phone with you. “I wish I were with you too. It’s been an eternity since we last saw each other. I miss you so much.”

There’s a brief pause before he softly chuckles. “Yes, for that very reason as well.” He grins and shifts in bed, deliberately rustling the sheets to ensure they’re picked up by the microphones he’s strategically placed around the bed, to capture the slightest movements.

“Oh, you are? The ones with the little… Fuck,” he breathes out, letting out a soft hum as his hand strokes down along his bare, tattooed chest.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about you.” Another pause. “You want to know what I’m thinking about?” He laughs once more, but it’s deeper, a little more heated. “Well, aren’t you naughty. I’m thinking about how pretty you look in those pajamas with the bows on them.”

His fingers idly trace over his stomach as he paints the picture in his mind—a visual of you laid out for him in bed. “I bet your nipples are so hard right now. I can always see them poking against that tight top…oh.” He pauses as if he’s heard something, bringing the microphone closer to his mouth. “Did you just… are you touching yourself? …yeah? You’re playing with your nipples right now?” A groan rises in his throat, and his fingers move lower towards the edge of his boxers.

“I want you to keep playing with them for me. Tell me how it feels… no, no, no, not yet.” He pretends to interrupt you before his voice deepens. “I’ll let you know when you can touch yourself there.”

A soft laugh escapes his lips, as if you’ve commented on the sudden shift in his tone, and a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, you enjoyed that?” he whispers, his voice dropping an octave once more, reverberating with a hint of dominance. “Then you’d better continue playing with your nipples until I tell you to stop.”

In his mind, he’s picturing it: you sprawled out for him, fingers pressed against your hard nipples, pinching and twisting them as you moan, teasing the sensitive bud until you’re practically whimpering and begging for more.

During this moment, Noah pushes down his boxers and reaches for the bottle of lube. He pumps a few globs into his palm before slowly lathering his cock. As he does this, he teasingly strokes himself with soft sounds that are being transmitted into the microphone for your enjoyment.

“Oh, you sound so cute when you beg like that,” he chuckles darkly, his hand slowly stroking over his cock.

“I never said you could do that, could I?” There’s a soft warning in his tone, mixed with the taunt, and he begins to make his strokes quicker, increasing the sound being picked up for the audio.

“What am I doing? What do you think?” He smirks, pausing as if gloating over your guesses. “And if I am?” He pauses. “No, I never said that I wouldn’t be touching myself. I said that you couldn’t. The last I remember, that was mine, and no one, not even you, can touch it without my permission.” He teases, playing into the idea of you retorting in a bratty manner.

“Okay, okay,” he relents, grunting as he tightens his grip around his cock. “What if you play with yourself while I stroke my cock? Would you like that? Yeah? Have you been thinking about it? Because I know I’ve been thinking about you. I miss you. I miss how you feel around me.” His voice starts to slip into a low moan, hips thrusting to meet his hand as he quickens the pace.

“Fuck, baby, that sounds so hot. You want me to fuck you? I bet you're so tight. I bet you can't even fit two fingers in there.” He smirks, licking his lips as he contemplates the prospect of challenging you to defy him and prove him wrong.

The thought of the sounds you’d make as you thrust two fingers into yourself and fucked yourself along side him fills him with a rush of excitement, enticing his own movements.

The sounds of his stroking grow louder, the wetness from the lube easily being picked up by the audio as his whimpers intensify. “Fuck, keep talking like that, and you’re going to make me cum... Yeah, you’re my sweet baby. My sweet baby with a filthy mouth. Just listen to you… mmm, you want me to cum for you? Is that it?”

Pressing his head back into the pillow, his back arches slightly, and his moans grow louder as he senses his climax approaching. “Fuck! I’m going to cum! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He cries out, his hips bucking erratically as he cums, squirting thick white ropes across his stomach. He continues to milk himself even after the aftershocks subside, trembling and whimpering into the microphone before softly whispering incoherent words for when the audio fades to an end.

“I suppose you’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You nod in agreement, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I thought so. That’s why I’d like you to do something for me today, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay…” you whisper into the pause in the audio, the sound of his breath in your ears sending a shiver down your spine, as if he’s right there with you, present in this moment.

“I want you to imagine that I’m right there with you, cradling your beautiful face and gently stroking your cheeks. That I’m looking at your lips; they’re so soft and inviting. I can’t help but want to kiss them.”

Raising your hand, you gently brush the pad of your thumb against your lips, as if he were doing the same, the simple act evoking a tingle of warmth.

“Now, I want you to undress slowly for me. As you raise your top, gently run your fingertips across your stomach...” As you follow his instructions, his words begin to fade slightly.

You wriggle out of your clothes, your fingers caressing the skin of your stomach as you move your shirt higher, until it’s off.

Once you’re just in your panties, you settle back on the bed, listening intently to him. You can already feel the heat pooling between your thighs.

“Now, reach down and slide those panties off you... slowly, just like I would.” Like I would. It’s a dizzying thought to imagine Noah doing precisely that, and your fingers slip beneath the fabric, gradually peeling them away and down your body, kicking them aside and adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

Naked, you spread out, your fingers of one hand gently tracing the inner curve of your thigh, creating soft, circular patterns. Meanwhile, your other hand caresses your chest, playfully teasing around your nipples.

“You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl. Now, I want you to lie down on the bed and count to three, taking a breath.”

You obey his instructions, drawing in a deep, slow, and steady breath. With each breath, the tension in your shoulders eases, your fingers relax, and the tight line of your jaw softens, as if the weight you’ve been carrying from the day has momentarily lifted.

This is what you needed.

“Now, bring your fingers to your mouth and suck on your middle finger for me. We’re going to get it nice and wet.”

When you do, the sounds you make are obscene, as if you’re performing a show for him, circling the digit and lathering it with your saliva. As you pull it free, you instinctively reach down, but his voice in your ears stops you before you can.

“Don’t even think about touching your sensitive little cunt yet. I want you to play with your nipples a bit first. Pinch them and tease them. Make them feel nice and good. As if my mouth is on them and playing with them.”

You let out a gasp and arch your back as you do exactly that. You twist your nipples with a pinch, feeling the sting of pain collide with a sense of pleasure. A soft, pleasing, needy whimper slips free.

“You enjoy it when I do that, don’t you?”

God, what you wouldn’t give for him really be to touching you in this way.

“That’s my pretty girl. So good for me.” The praise fills you with a warm sensation that spreads down between your thighs.

“Now you can reach down, but I want you to start by stroking your thighs. I want you to imagine me between them. Think about the moments when all I want is my mouth on you; kissing and marking you.”

That thought makes you yearn to touch yourself properly, not to tease yourself any further. However, you can’t help but follow his instructions and adhere to every word he says.

“You’re going to touch that needy pussy now, but you’re going to do it my way, do you understand?” You nod, a breath catching in your throat.

“I know you’re dripping for me, but I promise I'm going to make you feel so good.”

He isn’t wrong; you are, and you can feel it. All you desire is to touch yourself, to slip your fingers into you, and as his voice continues providing instructions, you realize that won’t happen anytime soon.

“Spread yourself out, nice and slowly, show me that beautiful pussy while you slowly circle and tease your clit with your middle finger. Can you do that for me?” You can—you do and are, gasping as you feel the contact just barely brushing against the bundle of nerves, yearning for more than he’s allowing you to give yourself.

You start whimpering needily, and as if on cue, he responds to them. “I know, baby. I know you need more, but not yet. You want to be good for me, don’t you? Now, how wet are you, show me.”

You envision him positioned between your thighs as he guides you, spreading yourself open to show him. A shuddering moan escapes your lips as the cool air caresses your sensitive clit. “Please,” you whimper, yearning for someone who isn’t physically present.

“Now, rub on your clit in tight, little circles, but not too quickly. I don’t want you to cum yet.”

You follow his instructions, the sound of his voice growing breathier in your ears as he croons praises that have you teetering on the edge of ecstasy. “That’s it, keep going, baby. Keep playing with that pretty little clit.”

You’re practically squirming against your fingers, soft moans escaping between your pleas before he brings you to a halt with his word, making you whine in frustration. “I know, baby, but I need you to be patient for me.”

For him. You can do it for him.

“Now, I want you to grab the pillow you sleep with every night and place it between your thighs. Get comfortable on it.” Rolling onto your stomach, you tuck the pillow beneath you and between your thighs, mounting it.

“Now, I want you to press yourself firmly against it. Think about pressing yourself close to me as if you’re on top of me, as if you can feel yourself grinding against my cock.” You let out a trembling breath at the thought and slowly roll your hips, grinding your bare cunt against the fabric of your pillow, feeling it tease your already sensitive clit.

“Take it slow. There’s no rush here; this is all about you feeling good. Imagine grinding down along my shaft, coating it with all your arousal. I bet it feels so good.” The audible moan from him makes you release your own, and your eyes roll back. Your thighs tighten either side of the pillow as you start to pick up your movements.

“Keep going, don’t stop, just keep moving.” His voice, filled with encouragement, sends shivers down your spine as you desperately grind against the pillow beneath you. “I bet you’re really wanting to cum, aren’t you? I bet you’re so desperate.” You nod and whine in response, as if he can somehow hear you and grant your every desire. The warmth inside you intensifies with each quickening of your movements.

It’s as if he’s attuned to you, sensing the pleasure coursing through your body and the height you’re being pulled. Before you can push yourself further, he abruptly orders you to stop. You’re on the edge, clinging tightly to the pillow, hoping that somehow, just maybe, you can push over the edge without ‘disobeying’ his commands: “Hold it, baby, right there… good girl.”

You whine again, and he responds, making your body quiver. “Oh, you need it so desperately, don’t you? Yeah? Does my pretty girl need to cum?” His voice sounds taunting, and you whisper a pleading ‘yes’.

“Beg for it then.”

And you do. You beg, your thighs squeezing tightly around the pillow as if that will somehow propel you over the edge you’re being held on.

“Louder.”

You’re louder, whimpering and pleading to someone who isn’t there, for an orgasm that’s entirely in their control. It feels deliciously torturous.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs into your ears, and you feel the heat pooling between your thighs once again, tightening around nothing as your clit throbs, yearning for more stimulation. “Now, I’m going to count down, and you’re to keep humping your pillow, but you can’t cum until I tell you, do you understand?”

You do understand, and as he initiates the gradual countdown, which he prolongs, you roll your hips and press down against the pillow, sensing the fabric’s dampness already clinging to you. You don’t care about the mess you’ve made or the desperation that has consumed you, panting and pleading between your moans, even in this moment.

“Five… you look so beautiful like this, all flustered and begging for me.” He coos in your ears, intensifying your heightened state and propelling you closer.

“Four…” a soft chuckle from him makes you whine, as if he’s deliberately reveling in your desperation to cum—all for him.

“Three… not yet, don’t cum for me. Hold it for me, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

“Two… you’re almost there. You’re so close now…” You are close, so close that you almost miss it when he hits one.

You hear his faint “let go for me, baby.” Then, the wave of your release washes over you, your body trembling as your hips buck and grind harshly down into the pillow. The sounds you make are a mix of whines and moans, pleading with him as your fingers curl into the pillow and you ride it throughout your release until you finally hit your comedown.

“That’s it, baby. You did so good.”

You hum softly, your eyes heavy as you remain still against the pillow, your head resting against the mattress.

“God, I could listen to those moans and whines all day long.” It was ironic for him to say that, considering that his were the ones you often spent your days listening to, using as your means of getting off.

“Now, take some deep breaths with me before you start cleaning up.”

With your eyes closed, you follow his guided instructions, inhaling and exhaling in rhythm. Your limbs feel heavy and boneless, while your head is filled with a sense of bliss.

“You did such a good job, pretty girl.” He whispers one final time into your ears, and your eyes remain closed, savoring the lingering afterglow of the post-orgasm bliss.