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Cherry red.
It’s the color of Mira’s lip stick, the color of the lip stick stains on the collar of Rumi’s shirt, the color of the pretty flush staining Mira’s cheeks as they mingle on the dance floor.
Mira’s back is pressed flush to Rumi’s front—hip to hip, chest to chest—grinding in time to the hypnotic beat pulsing through their veins. Rumi’s heartbeat is a flight risk with the way it pounds against the cage of her ribs, hard and insistent with every sensual roll of Mira’s ass against her hips. God, she’s so pretty dolled up for a night out, Rumi thinks as she drinks in the sight of Mira in a sinfully tight dress. One that shows off her tall and elegant figure, the fabric clinging to curves that Rumi’s hands greedily covet.
Heat coils in the air, propagated by the body heat of the crowd in this club. The intimate dancing and the alcohol spur on the sensuality of the night, adding on to the heady tension that curls around their bodies like a palpable fog, urging them to close whatever space remains between them.
Rumi happily obliges, her hands gripping Mira’s hips tight as they continue their grinding, a half-hearted attempt at dancing as the music pounds throughout the club.
Soft pink hair falls over Mira’s shoulders like a waterfall, effortlessly beautiful as she moves in time to the beat. Rumi lifts a hand to push those locks over Mira’s shoulder, her head dipping to press her lips to the curve of Mira’s shoulder in the next second. She trails her mouth up the slope of Mira’s shoulder, a path of wet kisses leading her to Mira’s hairline at her nape.
“Mhm, getting bolder, are we?” Mira’s voice is a low and sultry thing, seduction and confidence pouring off her words like thick, sweet honey. Rumi hears it above the music, locked in to every word that those cherry red lips form. Oh, how she wants to kiss Mira until she’s breathless and gasping, until that delight shade of red smears and smudges along those soft lips. Rumi’s hands squeeze at Mira’s hips, and the way Mira’s breath hitches before she presses her ass harder against Rumi’s pelvis is delicious.
“What can I say—you bring it out of me.” Rumi’s eyes glimmer with a playfulness as she speaks the words against soft skin, taking delight in the way the sensation elicits a shiver from Mira, goosebumps erupting pleasantly across her skin.
Soft lips trail up Mira’s neck, brushing along the shell of her ear with a quick nip, only to stop at the curve of Mira’s cheek. Rumi’s touch is warm and addictive as it quickly spreads across Mira’s body.
“Let me buy you another drink, baby. And maybe let me take you home with me.” Rumi purrs, the want in her voice dripping with intent. She digs her fingers in the dip of Mira’s waist harshly, a complete juxtaposition to the gentle caress of her lips along Mira’s cheek.
It sparks something molten in Mira’s chest, arousal so hot that it sears the depths of her chest, scorching as it floods the pathway down her belly, pooling between her legs in the form of unbearable ache. The pressure feels so good on her waist; it makes her wonder where else those strong hands would feel like. Mira bites down on the swell of her bottom lip, stifling the needy moan that wants to crawl out of her mouth.
The way Rumi flirts with her every time like it’s their first meeting makes Mira’s stomach flutter, a cage of butterflies unleashed within her belly. They’ve been doing this every Saturday night, but it feels just as fun and electrifyingly exciting as the first night they went out together. It’s in Rumi’s care, her attentive hands, that hungry gaze, the way she lures Mira in with honeyed words and a wicked grin that promises so much more for the night to come. Every touch and every word is a siren call that Mira obeys readily.
Rumi’s offer is so tempting, and if they weren’t in a crowded club right now, Mira would absolutely jump Rumi’s bones right now.
Actually… maybe that option is still on the table.
Wicked desire simmers in Mira’s belly, and the crooked grin Rumi shoots her way only spurs on the devious mischief dancing along her skin.
Why not? The devil dances on her shoulder, whispering in her ear with a sensual purr.
There’s nothing stopping Mira from taking what she wants.
Don’t you want it?
I want it.
Don’t you want her?
I want her.
Mira lets out a sigh through her nose as she presses her ass back against Rumi, her lips parting as she feels the sensual grind being returned. Warmth blooms in her lower belly, and the wandering hands over her body speaks of Rumi’s want as well. Reciprocated beyond what words can carry.
The soft lingering kiss that Rumi presses against the shell of her ear cements the fact, and Mira knows what her choice is now.
Mira spins around in Rumi’s arms, her own arms coming up to circle Rumi’s broad shoulders. She brings their faces close together, leaving nothing but a hairpin of space between their noses. Up close, the strobing lights shine in Rumi’s eyes, blinking stars reflecting in dark pools of sheer want. The sight leaves Mira’s mouth dry, suddenly slammed with the desire radiating off of the woman holding her.
She licks her lips, taking delight in the way Rumi’s eyes linger on the motion of her tongue. “Yeah, okay. Buy me a drink first before we go.” Mira’s hand brushes Rumi’s jaw, a finger tracing the sharp line of it as her partner grins, a charming, handsome expression gracing her mouth.
Rumi’s hand is firm yet gentle on the small of Mira’s back as she’s guided to the bar, and Mira huffs out breathe through her nose as her mind strays towards vulgar thoughts—like how Rumi’s hands would feel touching her body, how they would feel wrapped around her throat, how would they feel pulling on her hair, or—
Mira blinks slowly and finds herself situated at the corner of the bar, snug between the wall and Rumi as they claim the space amongst a packed crowd. Shaking her mind clear of those thoughts, she makes herself comfortable as Rumi orders them a drink, admiring Rumi’s side profile as they wait.
Dark eyes turn to her and Mira freezes, her breath hitching softly as she’s caught like a deer in headlights. The lazy grin Rumi shoots at her makes Mira’s stomach flip, arousal and attraction both throwing her so off guard that she’s stunned for a second.
Rumi’s hand settles on her waist, a bit possessive, a bit rough—everything that Mira craves right now. She swallows hard, oh, it’s affecting her so much. She can feel the heat pooling in her stomach, flooding her cunt with so much slickness that she wouldn’t be surprised if her panties are ruined by the time she takes them off tonight.
That hand slides down to her hip, caressing the hem of her dress where it falls to her mid-thigh. Permission being asked silently as Rumi stares at her, smiling gently, holding the hunger at bay until Mira responds.
It’s flattering, and oh, Mira feels herself getting wetter.
She nods and lets out a shaky exhale as Rumi’s hand trails down before coming back up, this time with her fingertips dancing up the inside of Mira’s thighs. Her eyes flick around the area, her ears flushing hot even though no one is paying any attention to them. It’s so bold and hot, fuck, Mira bites down on her lips as she feels her body responding with a sharp jolt of arousal. It’s a lightning strike zipping up her spine to buzz at the back of her head, anticipation and pleasure doing its best to render her into a mess.
Rumi’s forefinger grazes Mira’s panties, and Mira has to stifle a whine building in the back of her throat as she feels that feather-light touch, that tease of sensation ghosting along the center of her panties. The fabric is damp, that much is clear, and Mira is sure that they can both feel the cloying warmth radiating from her pussy. Up and down goes Rumi’s finger, slowly circling her clit, then sliding down to her entrance, circling with a maddeningly slow pace. All above fabric, a muted sensation that feels like blissful torture.
“You’re so wet, Mira.” Rumi’s face lights up with delight, a lecherous grin stretching her lips as her eyes never stray from Mira’s, drinking in her partner’s expressions as she toys with her.
It’s a challenge that Mira thrives off of, attempting a facade of calm as Rumi slowly and thoroughly reduces her to a ruined mess. God, she lives for this. She likes this so much.
“After all that grinding we called dancing? I’m not surprised.” Mira’s voice only shakes a little bit as she smirks. The confidence holds long enough until Rumi drags her finger back up to Mira’s clit, applying a harder pressure that makes her whimper audibly. It’s drowned out by the music but Rumi is standing close enough to hear it.
A wicked smirk graces Rumi’s lips, the picture of smugness as Mira’s facade cracks clean in two.
There’s nothing holding her back now that Rumi has won this little match of theirs. Mira’s hand shoots out, grabbing a hold of the black tie loose around Rumi’s collar, and tugs on it insistently.
“Touch me.” Mira’s request is breathy, a sultry lilt that borders on begging. Both of them freeze from the clarity of her desperation, spurring the molten arousal thrumming through their veins right now.
There’s a sharp intake of breath from Rumi—a pause as eyes dilate even further, that hunger breaching through the gates to flood her pupils until they eclipse the dark brown into rings—then she presses closer, a firm thigh slipping between Mira’s to spread her legs wider.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
Something softens in Rumi’s gaze as she coos quietly, a look of adoration mingling with the dark pools of arousal in her eyes. Her fingers slide Mira’s drenched panties to the side beneath her dress, relishing in the breathy gasp Mira lets slip free when Rumi’s fingers stroke through soaked folds.
Pleasure dances so vividly on Mira’s face and Rumi adores it, she drinks up every second of it like a parched woman. Watching Mira react to her every touch is a stroke to her ego, and watching the way Mira is enjoying herself has Rumi’s own arousal tightening in her belly. She’s so pretty all the time, but she’s exceptionally pretty when she’s on the cusp of ruin, and Rumi is riveted by the flush spreading across Mira’s face as she gathers the slick wetness on her fingers before smearing it over Mira’s swollen clit. It’s engorged and sensitive and it throbs against the pads of her fingers, making Rumi stifle her own needy groan into the fist of her free hand. God, Mira is so, so gorgeous like this—all needy for her.
“Y-Yes, yes!” Mira hisses under her breath as her eyes droop half-lidded, still mindful of their surroundings but slowly slipping into the pleasure of Rumi’s touch.
Rumi circles Mira’s clit slowly, applying pressure to that sensitive bud, hard enough to make Mira melt and whimper. She watches as pleasure blooms across her partner’s visage, captivated by how beautiful Mira looks while she’s being wrecked.
“I-Inside… hah, please!”
And how can Rumi resist when Mira is begging so sweetly with her mouth ajar, a furrow knitting at the middle of her brows as her hips jog involuntarily, chasing after more of Rumi’s touch without a care in the world, only focused on her own pleasure.
“So sweet when you beg, baby.” Rumi hums as she drags her fingers downward, rimming Mira’s entrance until those pretty eyes flutter shut. Then she presses two fingers inside, slowly, savoring the stretch of Mira’s pussy hole as she takes her. Greedily, eagerly. Arousal tightens even further at Rumi’s core as she feels how much Mira wants her.
“Ah, ah…!” The stretch is pleasant, and Mira feels her mouth go slack as that insistent buzz of euphoria washes over her mind.
“Oh, Mira… you’re so warm.” Awe swells in Rumi’s tone, a reverence spoken through her words as her fingers still in movement to savor the sensation of Mira’s walls fluttering around her. “And you’re squeezing me so tight, baby.”
Slick wetness coats Rumi’s fingers, dripping down into her palm as she pushes them all the way up to the knuckle. Warm walls flutter around her fingers, and the pressure they exert riles Rumi up, her breathing picking up as excitement swells within her. The muffled noise that Mira makes is so pretty, and Rumi can’t wait to hear it clearly. She lets Mira adjust to the stretch, to the feeling of being filled up, to the wicked thought of being fucked like this while in the presence of others. She curls her fingers and delights in the clench of Mira’s jaw, the bob of her throat as she tries to swallow down another lewd moan.
With a lick of her lips, Rumi starts pumping her hand. It’s slow strokes, a slow fucking that she plans to savor every second of. It’s not everyday that Rumi gets to make her pretty girlfriend come on her hand in a crowded club. It’s risky but it’s so much fun like this too.
“You feel good, Mira. Warm and wet, clenching around my fingers like you don’t want to let them go. Who knew what a whore you could be?” Rumi purrs, a husky seduction spoken with salacious words. It paints Mira’s cheeks a cherry red, sweet and bright on her skin as debauchery makes itself known.
“R-Rumi…!” Mira’s eyes flutter shut, whimpering softly as the dirty talk begins.
“Ah, ah,” Rumi tuts, her disapproval clear in her tone. It has Mira’s eyes snapping open, wide at the sound of it, her heart skipping a beat as that tone is directed at her. “Keep your eyes open, babygirl, keep them on me.”
And the way Mira nods shakily, her blush darkening further brings a wave of perverse delight washing over Rumi. She chuckles and keeps on pumping her hand, curling them with every thrust and smiling at the delicious clench of Mira’s cunt in response.
“Good girl.” Rumi chuckles at the whimper that leaves Mira upon hearing the praise, and presses her thumb against Mira’s swollen clit. It throbs against her, a needy and swollen bud that betrays all of Mira’s barely held together composure. She circles it roughly, still thrusting her two fingers at a steady pace. Deep and slow, unraveling Mira thrust by thrust.
“F-Fuck…!”
“Oh, you liked that, huh?” Rumi’s smirk is infuriating, the kind that looks so good on her smug face right now. Mira gasps breathlessly, betrayed by her own cunt squeezing down eagerly around Rumi’s fingers. “What a needy little whore. Does it feel good? Getting off like this in public? Where everyone can see you dripping on my hand?”
“N-No… I’m—“
“All they have to do is look over and see how you’re getting fucked like a slut. A pretty slut, mhm.” Rumi’s smile stretches into a hungry smirk, and Mira pants softly, raggedly as her pleasure spikes with every obscene word spilling out of Rumi’s mouth.
“My pretty slut.” The possessiveness curling around the word has Mira trembling, gasping and shaking as the thought of belonging comes to life inside of Mira’s mind. She can’t help the way her pussy squeezes around Rumi’s fingers, clinging desperately, sucking at the digits on every drag out and every thrust in. Rumi’s smug expression grows bolder, and she smirks as she maintains that maddeningly steady pace.
“Oh, you really liked that, huh? Tell me—do you wanna be mine, Mira?”
“R-Rumi! Ngh—!”
“C’mon, say it, Mira.” Rumi coos softly, affectionately as she curls her fingers and rubs against a sweet spot. Mira’s knees knock together, her strength leaving her as her pleasure spikes from sensitivity. Rumi is there to catch her though, her free hand immediately grasping Mira’s hip and squeezing gently. The grip there is grounding, and the strength in Rumi’s touch makes Mira’s stomach flip with newfound arousal.
“Y-Yes…” Mira bites out a whimper, whining at the way Rumi looks at her expectantly.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes—I want… hah, wanna be yours!” The last word tapers into a whine as Mira pants softly, desperation shining in her eyes as she teeters on the edge of her pleasure. Tip-toeing on a line, completely at the mercy of her partner.
But this is exactly where Rumi wants Mira to be—clinging to her, needy and desperate for release, willingly submitting to her pleasure. Rumi smiles, soft and sweet and delicate as she grips Mira’s hip harder and pushes her two fingers in deep, conceding to Mira’s admission with a saccharine, “Good girl.”
Mira’s hand is fisting Rumi’s tie, tugging and clutching to it like a lifeline. She trembles as Rumi fucks her mercilessly, the pace still torturously slow and deep but there seems like no sign of stopping now. Another stifled moan has Mira’s neck cording with tension, her eyelids fighting the flutter as another wave of pleasure crashes into her.
“You’re close, aren’t you.” Rumi laughs darkly, chuckling under her breath as she keeps on pumping her fingers, keeps on circling Mira’s aching clit with her thumb. “Come for me, baby. Make a mess on my hand. I wanna feel you coming for me in front of all these people.”
The intensity in Rumi’s eyes is captivating; Mira can’t look away from those dark, hungry eyes. They feel like a black hole, drawing Mira in further until escape is impossible. She gives herself over willingly, her head tipping backwards as her pleasure crests. Her hips jerk involuntarily, held steady by Rumi’s free hand, a strong grip that feels like an anchor as Mira is carried away by a flood of ecstasy.
Pleasure that is prolonged by Rumi’s thrusting fingers, the way they curl and rub at Mira’s sweet spots until stars are bursting in her vision and her knees grow too weak to support her own weight. Rumi pulls her into an embrace, supporting Mira’s weight while subtly slipping her fingers free from Mira’s pussy. She brings them up to her mouth, and Mira can only stare with shock and arousal as Rumi takes them into her mouth and sucks, cleaning her fingers of Mira’s release with a salacious pop of her lips.
“Mhm, you taste so good, babe.” Rumi smirks at her, lazy and smug as Mira catches her breath.
“God, you’re so annoyingly hot.” Mira huffs before she yanks on Rumi’s tie, pulling her close enough so that Mira can kiss her. It’s soft and warm, a slow kiss as they slot their mouths together. Kissing Rumi feels right, a warm weight that fills Mira’s chest with relief and ease. Kissing Rumi feels like coming home, like warm hugs and cuddles after a long day.
The kiss deepens as Mira moans at the taste of herself on Rumi’s tongue, passion and arousal jolting the sweetness into debauchery once more. Mira feels the smooth swipe of Rumi’s tongue against the seam of her lips and eagerly opens up, humming at the way Rumi licks into her mouth hungrily. She responds with equal fervor, pushing her front into Rumi’s and relishing in the warmth of body heat bleeding into her own despite the layers between them. She craves the touch of skin, craves the way Rumi unravels her so easily and thoroughly, craves what the night has in store for both of them.
Mira pulls back, playfully nipping at Rumi’s bottom lip as she does so. Her lips curl into a sultry smile, an invitation poised on the tip of her tongue as she toys with Rumi’s tie, “Take me home, Rumi.”
Pain is a sensation Mira is intimately familiar with. It’s a feeling that she carefully regards with respect; the shocking sting of it, the smooth control of it, the intoxicating dance that pleasure intertwines itself with.
And Rumi, master conductor of this element, is equally addictive. The way she handles pain and pleasure with deft hands; the way she watches with keen eyes, knowing exactly when to implement a rough hand or a gentle caress, the way she unravels Mira thread by thread, weaving an experience that none can fathom to replicate.
“Come here, darling. Let me see you.” Rumi’s voice is a sultry, commanding thrum. A husky rasp that makes Mira shiver from how good she sounds, from how seductive her tone feels. Firm hands caress up Mira’s sides, squeezing and dragging slow enough to have Mira’s breath hitching. She exhales shakily, mewling and whimpering at Rumi’s heavy-handed touch. She adores it, loves the way Rumi touches her with equal parts of tenderness and roughness.
With heaving breaths, Mira finds herself deposited on the bed, the hem of her dress riding up her thighs until they’re tugged up and over her hips properly. Bunched up fabric at her navel has Mira’s face flushing hot with a dark blush. She whines as she feels Rumi’s hands gliding up her inner thighs, squeezing them before spreading them apart.
Embarrassment and arousal churn in Mira’s chest, like a storm of molten heat as Rumi leans back and just… watches her. It sends a thrill humming up Mira’s spine, being watched with ravenous eyes, those dark pools trailing over every inch of her, admiring her like a work of art yet ready to devour her in a moment’s notice.
It’s a little more embarrassing knowing that Rumi’s eyes are focused on her panties, gazing at the damp fabric sticking to her cunt. Mira whimpers, her thighs twitching to close, but she keeps them open. She gets off on this too, the way Rumi sees how she’s dripping for her. Her panties are soaked from their time at the club, and she can even feel how wet she still is now with Rumi’s undivided attention.
A few minutes pass by achingly slow, enough for Mira to squirm and whine as Rumi does nothing but watch her.
“Rumi… please.” Mira’s voice is breathy, laced with wanton desire so palpable that it gives Rumi pause in her indulgent admiration.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” A smile stretches slowly on Rumi’s face, sly and dark with hunger. Those strong hands glide over Mira’s hips, making them jerk from the fleeting touch, rolling forward in search of more pressure. Rumi chuckles, low and husky, as she pins Mira’s hips to the bed. It’s fun watching her lover squirm, amusement and want curling in her chest whenever she’s the source of Mira’s squirming. To have her lover whining and crying out for her, desperate to be touched showcased in her writhing figure—it’s a heady jolt of pleasure that shoots straight to her head.
“What do you want today, darling?” Rumi hums under her breath as she trails a hand down to Mira’s knee, her fingers curling into softness as she locks eyes with Mira. Arousal swells in those eyes, and Rumi finds herself smirking as she watches Mira visibly struggle with a moan. The sound is rich and long as it pours out of Mira, a throaty moan making itself known as Rumi hovers on her knees.
“Tell me, Mira. I want to hear you.” Rumi speaks gently yet firm, her voice coaxing Mira’s desire out into the open. She gives Mira’s calf a soft squeeze before letting her hand retreat, smiling wider when Mira whimpers at the loss. The way Mira’s thighs stay spread for her makes Rumi smirk, smug at the way her lover already knows what she expects.
“You’re hands… mhpm, I w-want your hands.”
“Where do you want them?”
“O-On me! Touch me, I need—I need you.”
The admission swirls thick in the air, clinging to the walls as it lingers. Satisfaction flickers across Rumi’s face as she stares down at Mira, and the mere sight of it alone makes Mira’s stomach swoop with the weight of her arousal. The silent praise is enough to make Mira’s cunt clench around nothing. Oh, how she wants and wants and wants to be touched, to be filled, to be thoroughly wrecked by Rumi.
“Take your dress off for me. I want you on your hands and knees.” Rumi’s command is clear in the silence, and Mira blinks sluggishly a few times before her body follows the order.
Obediently.
Hungrily.
Eagerly.
Rich fabric slides off her body until it pools on the bedroom floor, a marker of the night that is to come. She turns over slowly, exhaling a deep breath as she settles on all fours. She should be embarrassed but Mira can only find herself aroused beyond belief as she raises her hips and spreads her thighs further apart, wordlessly presenting herself to Rumi.
Her pussy is soaked and so are her panties, and Mira sighs and whimpers as her ass stays high up in the air. Her hands curl into the sheets below her, fingers gripping the fabric as she tries to stave off her desperation. Rumi’s fingers hook into the hem of her panties before they drag the underwear down, peeling them from Mira’s body.
She’s so wet, she knows she is, and the blush of Mira’s face darkens when she hears a soft hitch of breath. Her cunt is sopping wet, thin lacy strands of viscous arousal clinging to her inner thighs shamelessly, almost like her pussy is drooling. The space below her must be stained by now, the sheets gathering wet spots from where she’s leaking.
“Beautiful.” Rumi’s voice is soft and low, a warm whisper of praise gliding across Mira’s spine like velvet, making her melt as the word dissolves on her ears. Mira moans softly, her cheeks burning from the compliment and the reverence in Rumi’s tone.
A cool sensation glides up Mira’s calves and she yelps, her breathing stuttering as she feels cool smooth leather on her skin. A throaty moan escapes her, and Mira’s brain struggles to form a coherent thought about what she’s feeling other than the pleasurable glide—until Rumi’s hand cups her cunt.
Then all Mira can feel is pure, supple leather.
“F-Fuck…!”
A startled gasp slips past her lips, sharp and full of strangled arousal, hitching in her lungs as it works its way through the passage of her throat. Her eyes flutter shut, overcome with a visceral wave of pleasure as Rumi holds her, grinding that palm against her soaked folds, pressing delicious friction against her swollen clit.
“G-God… please!”
“No god here. You can call me Sir.” Mirth swells in Rumi’s voice as she shifts her hand in a subtle back and forth motion, still grinding against Mira slowly, dragging out loud whines and moans that borderline on pornographic.
“S-Sir!” And Mira trembles, her thighs shaking as one of Rumi’s hands holds them apart. Her hips buck at the pleasure jolting up her spine, an electrifying bolt that has Mira crying out loud, sobbing out a guttural moan as Rumi grinds the heel of her palm against her pussy.
It’s a sleek pair of black leather gloves that adorns Rumi’s hands. Mira’s seen them before, she’s felt them before. They’re warm, reflecting the molten heat that curls in Mira’s lower belly. They’re wet, supple leather soaked by Mira’s dripping arousal. And they feel so good rubbing against her cunt, sliding through her sopping folds, pressing down on her engorged clit.
“M-More! P-Please, Sir—more!” Mira’s brow furrows at the center of her forehead, scrunching up as pleasure contorts her features. Her back arches in a pretty bow, jerking involuntarily as Rumi presses down with a consistent pressure.
Rumi hums, a husky and smug sound dripping from her lips as she drags her free hand up Mira’s navel, enjoying the way the muscles of her stomach flex in response to Rumi’s touch. Her smile deepens as she hears Mira’s breath hitching, as she sees goosebumps erupting across her lover’s skin. The touch of leather feels heavier the slower Rumi moves, and she capitalizes on that, elevating Mira’s pleasure with a combination of sensuality and texture.
She cups Mira’s chest, a gloved hand massaging Mira’s breast with a roughness that has her whimpering so sweetly. Deft fingers toy with a stiff nipple, tugging at it gently before rolling it in circles, finishing off the gesture with a hard pinch that has Mira sobbing out another needy moan.
“S-Sir!”
“You can take it. You can take it like a good girl.” Rumi says as she continues touching Mira’s pussy and Mira’s chest in tandem. Her head tilts to the side, drinking in the sight of Mira unraveling from her touch, moaning and whining at the relentless stimulation.
“R-Rumi—“
“Say it. Say it for me.” Rumi coos with a light twist of Mira’s nipple.
The sting of pain-pleasure shoots straight to Mira’s clit. She sobs as her hips buck hard, yet she goes nowhere under Rumi’s iron grip. “I-I can—ngh—I can t-take it!”
“Good girl.” And Rumi smiles, pleased by the guttural moan that leaps out of Mira. The twitching of Mira’s clit against the center of her palm is a sweet reward all on its own.
“W-Wanna come—please, I-I’m so c-close!” And tears gather at the corner of Mira’s eyes, glistening and glittering as she hurtles towards her climax.
Wickedness dwells in Rumi’s gaze as she slows down her hands, smirking with a deviousness fitting for the edging she does to Mira. She watches as Mira’s moans increase, containing a desperation that grows the slower Rumi’s hands move.
“Please, please—no, no, no, don’t stop—Rumi, Rumi!” Mira thrashes atop the bed sheets, crying and sobbing as her pleasure wanes, coming to a complete stop as Rumi removes her hands from her body entirely.
“Look at you, baby. So sweet when you’re nearly crying.” Rumi chuckles, sweet and saccharine as wiggles the fingers of her gloved hands. They’re slick with Mira’s wetness, glistening under the bedroom lights.
“You’re so… hah, y-you’re so—“ Twisting and turning, Mira writhes uselessly, tearing up at being denied her pleasure. All that tension is coiled up in her lower belly, an unbearable ache that pulses in time to her heartbeat. She whines and whimpers, sweet and soft noises that taper into breathy huffs. Her flushed skin glows beneath the lights, and she looks ruined, toeing the line before devastation.
“Mean? But you like it so much.” Rumi grins wickedly as she slaps her hand directly against Mira’s pussy, making sure the heel of her palm smacks against that throbbing clit.
It’s the impact, the devastating harsh jolt of pain-pleasure that snaps the tight coil in her belly. It's the last straw that breaks Mira clean in half. The shriek that leaves Mira is high-pitched, a deafening screech that has her body convulsing with vibrant shocks of pleasure.
“See? Look at the mess you’re making for me. Such a sweet girl for me.” Rumi coos and keeps on circling Mira’s swollen clit, moaning lowly at the way Mira gushes against her hand, soaking it in her release. “So fucking pretty too.”
Mira’s arms buckle as her pleasure courses through her, falling forward onto the sheets while her hips remain high in the air. Rumi’s hand is still flush against her cunt, rubbing against her clit to prolong her orgasm as much as she can. Rumi’s free hand is settled on the small of Mira’s back, holding her lover down as she writhes and twitches in the throes of passion.
That free hand disappears to slink back down between Mira’s legs, delving through her soaked folds once more. A strangled moan leaves her lips as she feels Rumi’s fingers circling her entrance, toying and teasing until her hips are bucking. Whether it’s from oversensitivity or from the wanting of more, Mira can’t tell. She whimpers and nuzzles her head into the pillows, her head turned to the side so that her cheek is cushioned by softness.
“Look at how eagerly you open up for me, babygirl.” Rumi’s smile can be heard through her words, the lilt of that husky seductive tone swells with desire and mirth. It sends a shiver up Mira’s spine, and she whines breathlessly at the praise, the pet name, the warmth of Rumi’s voice as she coaxes her open with two fingers. They prod and circle and tease until Mira is sobbing into the pillow again, her teeth biting down on the fabric as Rumi works a finger inside of her cunt. The second digit slides in and Mira’s breath hitches roughly, a wrangled moan spilling out of her as Rumi slides two fingers up to the knuckle.
Mira keens, sweet and loud, an obscene sound vibrating through the air as Rumi finger-fucks her with two fingers. Squelching wet sounds fill the air and Mira blushes at the depravity, whining at the schlick schlick schlick that echoes so loudly. Her thighs tremble but they part further apart, eager for more of Rumi’s touch. Mira sobs out another moan, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as pleasure grips her firmly, wrapping around her like an intimate embrace. Her hips twitch and her back arches, so responsive to Rumi’s sure and steady pounding.
“Good girl. Taking me so well.” Rumi chuckles, smug and satisfied by how pliant Mira grows by the second. She curls her fingers, making sure to reach and rub against sweet sensitive spots that have Mira choking and hiccuping amidst the waves of pleasure crashing into her. Every clench and flutter of Mira’s cunt around her fingers makes Rumi preen, makes her smile as she feasts on her lover’s blatant pleasure.
And the texture—god, the texture—feels so good deep inside of her pussy. Mira is a trembling mess of moans and whimpers as she feels those two fingers plunging into her cunt, the sensation of sleek, supple leather rendering her mind into a blank state as they pump in and out effortlessly. The way they glide against her walls feels so good, and the firmness of the material is unusual enough to keep her body alert and craving for more.
“Is it good? Are you close?”
“Y-Yes! Yes, please, I’m s-so—”
Rumi’s thrusts come to a slow stop, and she lets her fingers stay inside of Mira’s pussy for a moment, admiring the way her lover squirms and pants harshly, twitching from the lack of movement. She eyes the shiny sheen of wetness coating Mira’s thighs, smirking at the wetness dripping down the curve of Mira’s knees.
“R-Rumi… hah, w-why did you—”
Slap!
A sharp crack rings through the air, shortly followed by a loud cry from Mira. Rumi’s hand hovers near the blooming patch of pink skin on Mira’s ass, her black leather a contrast to the reddening flush on pale skin.
“F-Fuck!”
“It’s Sir to you, darling.”
“...Sir.” Mira’s head bows closer to the pillow, glistening tears gathering on her eyes as the shockwave of pain radiates through her body. Her hips twitch before they roll, an attempt to fuck herself down onto Rumi’s hand before that too is stopped by another swift slap.
Slap!
“A-Ah!” Mira’s body jerks as the sting of pain-pleasure ripples through her body. She whimpers before freezing in place, her chest heaving from ragged breaths. It feels so good, and Mira feels her mind blanking into nothingness for a moment before consciousness returns. She’s panting into the pillow, a bit of drool trailing out the corner of her mouth as she stays still. Rumi’s silent command is deafening in the quiet, but Mira obeys readily, trembling from the last slap to her ass.
Flushed skin grows redder and redder, two blooming marks now stark on Mira’s asscheeks. They’re so pretty, and the sight of Rumi’s handprints makes her preen with a dark hunger. The way Mira wears the shape of her hands has Rumi’s arousal twisting and curling so delightfully in her core.
“Stop moving. That’s better.” Rumi murmurs as she lets her gloved hand graze the curve of Mira’s ass, humming at the wrecked, breathy noise that slips out of Mira in response. Her touch is tender as she caresses the red skin, carefully skimming her gloved fingertips across warm skin.
“I don’t want you to come just yet.” And Rumi smirks at the pitiful whimper Mira lets out, pleased by the shudder that rolls through her lover’s body. She knows that Mira likes to be edged, knows that her lover craves the roughness of her touch despite how whiny she gets. Mira’s desperation is a tasteful flavor added to their shared pleasure, and Rumi is all too happy to indulge in it again.
“Now stay still while I get the paddle.”
Mira’s breath hitches as the word lingers in the air. Fabric rustles as Rumi leaves the bed to rummage in the walk-in closet, leaving Mira to squirm and whimper as her body reacts viscerally to the command. She’s leaking more wetness as she thinks about the toy Rumi went to retrieve. It’s a finely crafted wooden paddle, not too big or extreme, and it has a heart-shaped hollow space at its center—perfect for leaving heart-shaped marks on her skin. Mira trembles as her mouth waters, her pussy clenching around nothing, and her desire punches her in the gut with a heavy swoop.
God, she’s so wet now, practically dripping as she waits with her ass presented. The cool air greets her flushed skin, a small reprieve from the sting of impacts earlier. Mira’s hands grapple at the bed sheets, gripping and twisting as she waits for Rumi to return.
It’s not a long period of time but the wait feels agonizing with every minor twitch of arousal coursing through her body.
A yelp escapes Mira when Rumi does return, the sound dissolving into a broken moan as she feels the cool edge of the wooden paddle immediately slide against her cunt. Its firm surface glides through her soaked folds, rubbing against her sensitive clit in a back and forth motion. A series of whimpers drips from Mira’s slack mouth, unable to be contained as the sensation continues for another minute. It’s good, god, it’s so good. The way that solid edge brushes against her folds again and again, bumping along the swell of her swollen clit. Pleasure rushes through Mira like a slow-moving wave, consistent and devastating as more wetness leaks from her pussy.
“So pretty, Mira. Look at how you drip for me.” Rumi’s voice is tinted in awe and desire, painted with reverence as she slides the edge of the paddle against Mira’s soaked flesh with a firm hand. When she spreads Mira’s pussy lips with the edge, a desperate whimper leaves her lover, the sound of it so satisfying as Rumi watches Mira tremble from the light touching and grazing.
“Ready for me?” The paddle drifts upward until it settles against the swell of Mira’s ass, its flat surface firm against a plush curve.
A shaky exhale, a hummingbird pulse fluttering in her throat before Mira says, “Y-Yes.”
“I’ll give you ten on each cheek.” Rumi says as she cups the curve of Mira’s ass, thumb stroking along the pink patch of skin just to hear Mira whine at the sensitivity. She taps the center of the paddle against Mira’s right cheek, and Rumi’s lips stretch into a slow smirk as she sees Mira’s body physically jolt in response.
“Up on your hands and knees, pretty girl.”
With a shaky breath, Mira pulls herself up until she’s situated on her hands and knees. The touch of the paddle resting on her skin is a constant fixture on her senses, and Mira braces herself by gripping the sheets beneath her. Her heart pounds in her chest, a rapid thumping against her ribs.
“Remember to breathe, pretty girl. Now count for me.”
Rumi brings the paddle up, and Mira feels her pulse kicking hard as it comes down, the air subtly whistling through the hollow heart-shaped hole.
Crack!
“A-Ah!” Mira’s body jolts forward as the impact lands on her right asscheek, the rush of pain is exquisite as it is quickly followed by a wave of pleasure.
The first spank is clean and sharp, a deafening blow against Mira’s skin that immediately blooms a brilliant pinkish-red.
“One…” Mira pants softly as she feels white-hot pleasure rushing up her spine. It buzzes pleasantly at the base of her skull, leaving her mind reeling in a fog of ecstasy for a moment. The solid surface of the paddle rests against her ass, a steady presence that tethers Mira, pulling her back from the waves of stimulation battering at her senses.
“Good girl. You took it so well.” Rumi purrs softly, a sultry praise whispering through the air as she palms at the dip of Mira’s waist, an affectionate squeeze that has Mira’s heart fluttering uncontrollably. It’s the praise and the way Rumi holds her, the tender care laced in her voice and her hands that flusters Mira the most.
“T-Thank you, Sir.” She swallows thickly, her breathing hitching as Rumi waits for another moment before shifting the paddle. Anticipation thrums beneath her skin, arousal and excitement buzzing at her skull. There’s a heartbeat, then two, before there is further movement.
It swings upward, the air audibly parting for the flat surface, before coming down swiftly, Rumi’s strength controlled to an absolutely precise degree as it lands on Mira’s skin.
Thwack!
“Mhmm, hah… two!”
Mira’s knees tremble as she grips the sheets with curling fingers, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as she relishes the impact. The sting of it is like a potent shockwave across Mira’s senses, vibrant and vivid as pain-pleasure rushes through her veins.
“Good. Very good. Keep going, Mira.” Rumi smiles, slow and sharp, predatory in her hunger as she watches her lover’s skin bloom into a ruddy red shade. The skin of Mira’s ass is vibrant in color, and the heart shapes are a delectable sight as they leave a pale contrast. She swings the paddle up, holding it in the air to build tension before letting it come down twice on Mira’s right cheek.
Wap! Wap!
The heavy-handed smack of skin is stark in the silence of the room, and Mira’s breathy, wanton moans that follow behind only serve to punctuate the thick tension in the air. It is an electric blanket of arousal that spurs on their desires, kindling to a flame that continues to roar and consume all that they have.
“Three… ah, f-four!” Mira’s jaw clenches reflexively as the sting explodes on her right cheek. She’s panting as the marks land on top of each other, exacerbating the heart-shaped blush of red on her ass. Every blow is calculated, every blow is designed to enhance her pain and pleasure, and Mira grits her teeth as she takes in every delicious spanking Rumi delivers unto her.
“That’s it, darling. Breath for me.” Rumi coos as she directs the paddle between Mira’s legs once more, letting the edge of it rest against Mira’s sopping cunt. Delight flickers across Rumi’s face as Mira’s breathing stutters from the touch, a wrecked ragged sound hitching in her lungs.
“A-Ah! Nghh…!”
The flat tip nudges at Mira’s labia, spreading them apart and holding them there. The vulnerability of being exposed in this manner makes Mira flustered beyond belief, but knowing that Rumi is witnessing all of her like this only adds to the desire churning thick and hot in her belly. She’s also aroused at the praise that Rumi lavishes her with, preening as she soaks up every word.
“You’re soaked, baby. Fuck, you’re leaking everywhere.” Rumi groans under her breath as she takes in the sight of Mira’s pussy—absolutely drenched, thick and viscous strands of slick drooling from her fluttering pussy hole, dripping down onto the edge of the paddle shamelessly.
A thick string of arousal leaks from Mira’s hole, captivating Rumi’s attention as it dangles for a moment, lewd in all its splendor, before it drips onto the bed sheets below. The fabric turns dark as it’s saturated, stained with evidence of their unfolding debauchery.
“So fucking pretty.” Rumi murmurs with breathless wonder.
She lets her gloved hand caress the reddening patch on the swell of Mira’s ass, a tender stroke that elicits a beautiful whimper out of her lover. Rumi’s fingertip traces the overlapping outlines of the heart-shaped marks on Mira’s skin and she grins victoriously, satisfaction brimming in her dark and hungry gaze as she drinks in the sight of her lover like this.
A shiver rolls its way through Mira’s body, and she sobs quietly, a broken moan dripping from her lips as she feels Rumi’s touch. Tender yet deliberate as her sensitive ass is caressed. It’s good, it feels so good even though it hurts. The pain is exquisite, pleasure riding on its coattails like a one-two combo.
“Let’s keep going. You’re doing so good for me, Mira.” Rumi says as she lifts the paddle, letting it rest against Mira’s right cheek once more. The heart-shaped space is layered on its mirroring marks on Mira’s skin, a perfect fit as Rumi allows her lover to gather herself. She squeezes at Mira’s waist before lifting the wooden paddle.
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
The three spanks in quick succession is surprising, and the jolts of pain-pleasure shoot straight through Mira. She cries out, a sharp wailing sound rushing out of her as she nearly buckles at the rapid impacts. Her breathing turns labored now, breathy gasps and mewls and involuntary whimpers slipping free as the visceral stimulation washes over her like an unrelenting wave.
“F-Five… f-fuck, six! S-Seven… ngh!” Mira’s jaw goes slack as her mind blanks out, pain-pleasure encompassing every inch of her mental space. The sting is sharp, an electric crackle rippling up her spine, and then a plume of warmth blooms on her skin, tingling with pleasure so potent that it renders Mira incapable of formulating any kind of thought. All she can feel is the pain, the pleasure, the heavy-handed smack of the wooden paddle and then the tension residing within her ebbing away, draining from her body like a whirlpool.
It’s delicious; it’s euphoric.
It feels so good that Mira doesn’t know what to do with herself as she unravels like a roll of thread unspooling slowly but surely.
Wetness paints Mira’s inner thighs as she pants roughly, audible labored breaths that have her chest visibly heaving. She feels hot all over, overheated as desire simmers just beneath her skin, a delectable thrum that travels across every inch of her body. The pressure in her lower belly coils tight, curling with every spank that Rumi gives her. It’s a delicious sort of feeling, the way her body grows taut and pliant at the same time because of Rumi’s touch, a contradictory sensation that blooms as a result of her arousal.
A cycle of give and take that blooms beautifully because of their implicit trust in one another.
“You’re almost to the halfway mark now. Good girl.” Rumi praises her quietly, her voice a husky, sultry drawl that makes Mira feel warm from head to toe. She still gets those butterflies in her belly, that telltale glow in her chest that sits perfectly there. Steady reassurance that wards away any sort of nerves or doubts before they can take root. Mira sighs as Rumi’s praise sinks into her skin, a balm that feels like a blanket wrapping around her shoulders.
Mira braces herself for the next hit, her body loosening as Rumi guides her with her calming voice. The paddle whistles through the air, and Mira’s eyes go glassy as she welcomes it.
Crack!
“E-Eight!” Mira gasps for breath, her cheeks burning hot from how worked up she is. The sting feels so good, an electric jolt that shoots straight to her clit. She cries out as her hips buck, twitching uncontrollably as pleasure descends like a clap of thunder in the next instant.
“Good girl. Two more.”
Wap!
“Nine! F-Fuck…” A broken whine leaves Mira’s open mouth, the sound splintering halfway into a wreck as Mira clings to the bed sheets. This one hit a little harder, and the pain has stars bursting in Mira’s vision, constellations that wink at her once the pain smooths into an eye-watering sort of pleasure.
“You’re doing so well, Mira. One more—it’s the last one.” Rumi coos as she lifts the paddle up. The words have the desired effect on Mira; she exhales shakily but the fog in her gaze clears, relief lying just out of reach, ready for Mira to grab once that last spank is received.
Thwack!
“Ten… hah!” Her body trembles with the onslaught of pain-pleasure, shaking like a leaf as Rumi delivers yet another delicious blow to her ass. Knowing that it’s the last of the spanking makes it even more sweeter, and Mira lets out a guttural moan as her body sways on her hands and knees, teetering on that border of too-much and not-enough.
“Good girl. That’s my good girl.” Rumi quickly places the paddle down on the bed as she settles her hands on Mira’s waist, squeezing it affectionately before sliding them up and down Mira’s sides. Gentle caresses as she feels Mira’s body shudder and jerk involuntarily. She watches as Mira’s arms inevitably give out, sliding her lover forward until she’s slumped on her chest.
Mira’s hips stay up though, her ass high in the air even as she shivers in the aftermath. It’s an impressive sight, a beautiful smattering of heart-shaped prints layered on top of each other on flushed red skin.
And Mira’s cunt—god, she’s dripping wet. Rumi hums warmly as she ghosts her gloved hand over Mira’s right asscheek, caressing the tender red skin as softly as she can. It pulls a breathy whine out of Mira, another broken moan breaking free as Rumi glides two fingers through Mira’s soaked folds.
“You’re so good for me. Here’s a little reward before we continue, babygirl.”
“F-Fuck, Rumi! A-Ahh… mhhpmm!”
Mira cries out as Rumi plunges two fingers deep into her sopping wet pussy. They go in so easily, and Mira’s blush intensifies at the filthy wet squelching sound that follows every pump of Rumi’s gloved hand. It feels so good, devastating relief after all that pain-pleasure and edging she endured. Mira practically melts into the sheets, hiccuping between wanton moans as Rumi finger-fucks her slowly.
“You’re squeezing me so tight… fuck, Mira. You feel good like this… love it when you get all desperate.”
Schlick schlick schlick!
“R-Rumi… hah, ah, ah, ah—“ Mira’s eyes become glazed over once more, her lips parted to let out slurred moans and tiny trails of drool out the corner of her mouth.
Plap plap plap!
“Dripping all over my hand… mhmm, good girl. What a needy little whore for me.” The immediate clench of Mira’s walls around her fingers has Rumi chuckling, smirking wide as she curls her fingers with every thrust.
“Feels good, yeah? You deserve this, pretty girl. Go on and take it.” Rumi croons, slow and husky, lathering on the sweetness as she drives her praises home.
Tension coils in her belly, and Rumi’s fingers feel so incredibly good as they drag along her fluttering walls, curling and rubbing against sweet spots with deft precision again and again. That exquisite pressure builds and builds—only to pull away at the last second.
“N-No! No, no, please—Sir! I can be—I can be good! Please, please, I can’t—”
Mira cries out loudly, whining and whimpering at the loss. She sobs out a moan, writhing in place as Rumi’s hand retreats. Tears gather at the corner of her eyes, and Mira makes a plethora of desperate noises as her pleasure pauses right before reaching its peak. Her body shudders, all riled up only for the tension to fizzle out.
“Shhh, babygirl. It’s okay, just breathe for me. You can be patient, can’t you? You wanna be good for me, right?” Rumi’s gloved hands grip Mira’s waist, holding firm, her thumbs stroking in gentle circles as she placates her lover. And only when Mira calms down, quiet and pliant once more, do they fully retreat.
“...Y-Yes. I-I want to be good.”
“There’s my girl. My beautiful girl.” Rumi bends her head to press a kiss to Mira’s temple, pulling back slightly to let her soft lips graze the curve of Mira’s cheek. She trails down until she’s able to kiss Mira slowly, a chaste kiss that lingers against Mira’s mouth. A gesture made just to feel Mira, an intimate act that carries the message: I’m here for you.
When they part, Mira’s eyes soften, calm and clarity residing in them renewed.
“Ten for your left cheek now. Then I’ll give you your reward, pretty girl.” The wooden paddle touches Mira’s left asscheek, unblemished smooth skin begging to be touched, a contrast to her right asscheek riddled with crimson heart-shaped marks. And Rumi’s promise has Mira bracing herself once more, eager to behave so she can reap her reward. All this edging has her keyed up, and any thought of acting out when she’s so close to relief is immediately shut down, banished from her mind as her focus narrows to being good.
“P-Please…!” Mira’s head bows low against the pillow, the word escaping her like a plea and a prayer all wrapped up in one.
“So polite. You’re all worked up, aren’t you? Worked up like a needy slut.” Rumi coos gently, a sweet saccharine tone applied as she taps the flat of the paddle teasingly against Mira’s backside. Mira’s hips twitch in response to the paddle and the dirty talk, and Rumi hums approvingly.
“Well?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Rumi clicks her tongue once, and the lone reprimanding sound makes Mira whimper. She runs the edge of the paddle along Mira’s left cheek, deliberately pressing down on the sensitive skin.
“Y-Yes, Sir!” And Mira squirms from sensitivity, crying out loud as the paddle retreats before settling against her left asscheek once more. She’s shivering, panting harshly at the swift discipline, clenching around nothing. The way Rumi controls the tension spurs Mira’s arousal on, making her crave that ironclad control.
“That’s right.” Rumi swings the paddle up in a well-practiced arc before bringing it down with a firm and swift thwack!
“O-One!” Mira cries out as she fists the sheets below her, her body jolting once more as the impact strikes her skin harshly. Pain-pleasure rushes across her senses, and Mira’s lips stay parted as that incredible sensation renders her speechless, her mind simply wiped blank momentarily. It buzzes up the notches of her spine, knocking at the base of her skull with a depraved familiarity. Warmth erupts upon her left cheek, and Mira mewls as the sting blossoms into undeniable pleasure.
“You’re so pretty. That’s it, arch your back for me. Good… good girl.” Rumi’s gloved hand strokes up and down Mira’s back, admiring the lean muscles flexing as Mira arches her back, such a pretty bow that shows off her figure.
The praise warms Mira’s chest, sending butterflies fluttering in her belly. Her slick walls clench around nothing as Rumi’s gloved hand caresses the slope of her back, smooth supple leather a relief to her flushed skin.
“Rumi… I need—I need—” Mira whimpers, a low whining sound that spills from her lips as she fists the sheets, wrinkling the fabric with her desperate grip. Her cheek is pushed against the pillow, big brown teary eyes glancing over her shoulder to lock with Rumi’s.
“Shhh, baby. I know what you need. Just keep counting and breathing for me, Mira.” Rumi coos gently, her gloved hand stroking the small of Mira’s back as she placates her lover. The drag of leather is smooth and pleasant as it circles the base of Mira’s spine, lithe fingers caressing a set of back dimples in a sensual nonsensical pattern.
As Mira shifts slightly on her knees to alleviate the tension of the position, she breathes in deep and lets the brewing pressure leave with the exhale. Rumi’s reassurance is a balm to her nerves, to her wired-up body, and Mira sighs softly as she leans into her lover’s touch. Trust is an intrinsic component of their dynamic and their play time, and Mira has no qualms relinquishing the reins over to Rumi. It’s a give and take; a two-way street. She trusts Rumi to know the signs of her body just as well as Mira does, especially when they delve into something as intense as tonight’s session.
So Mira settles against the bed, her hips steady in the air, her back arching so prettily just for Rumi. She readjusts her grip on the sheets and takes another deep breath, lips parting in a lofty exhale as Rumi settles the flat of the paddle against her ass once more.
“What’s your color, pretty girl?”
“Green, Sir.” Mira says as she backs her ass into the face of the paddle, wiggling side to side slowly as she lets out a shuddering breath. Her arousal flares anew, a scorching molten heat that curls in her lower belly, making Mira pant harshly as her cunt throbs with need.
“Perfect. My perfect girl.” Rumi murmurs sweetly as she brings her hand up, the paddle poised for a suspended second before it swings down.
Thwack!
“A-Ah, two!” A guttural moan pours out of Mira as she takes the hit, whimpering at the jolt of arousal that ripples through her body. Her cunt clenches around nothing, slick walls flutter desperately as pain-pleasure rushes to meet her again.
Crack!
“Three… hah, fuck…”
“Good. Keep breathing, pretty girl.”
Wap! Wap!
“Four! F-Five! O-Oh, fuck…”
Mira whines loudly, shamelessly as her body twitches involuntarily. The rush of pain is delicious enough to make her eyes roll back, a gasping breath gulped down as obscene pleasure washes over her. Her skin is warm to the touch, a distinct ruddy red where the heart-shaped marks kiss her right ass cheek. She shakes and shudders, whimpering from how good it feels to be handled like this.
“Halfway there, babygirl. You can do it. You can take it, yeah, Mira?” Rumi coos and praises her in abundance, sweet and husky voice trailing up the length of Mira’s spine like a palpable wave of molten heat.
“Y-Yes,” Mira gasps breathlessly as her dilated eyes tremble, struggling to remain conscious against the heady cloud of pain-pleasure fogging her mind. It’s stronger now as her body’s endurance weakens, struggling to keep afloat amidst the endless waves of stimulation washing over her. “Yes, Sir, I can—please, I-I w-want it.”
“I’ll make it quick, Mira. You’ve been so good for me.” Rumi hums as she flexes her grip on the handle.
Thwack! Thwack!
“Six, f-fuck—seven!” Soft, desperate moans spill into the air as Mira’s pussy keeps on leaking an abundance of wetness. It’s shiny as it trickles down her thighs, coating her skin with a glimmering sheen of arousal. It’s a tantalizing sight, and Rumi grins smugly as she gathers it on her gloved fingers before popping them into her mouth. It’s a tangy sweetness, and it is divine as it is addictive.
“You taste so good, Mira. So wet for me.” A low chuckle leaves Rumi as Mira whines halfheartedly in response, her hips twitching from the soft touch of Rumi’s hand against her cunt and the nonchalant depravity of her words.
Smack! Smack!
“Eight… ngh, n-nine…”
Drool trails down the corner of Mira’s lips as her head rests on the pillow, the side of her face nestled against softness as she breathes in and out harshly, a ragged rattling in her chest as her body trembles in the face of sheer pleasure. Her vision swims as she takes stuttering breaths, babbling softly as her mind tries to fight against the waves of pain-pleasure continuously flooding her.
“One more, Mira. You can do it. It’s the last one.” Rumi says.
“P-Please…!” Desperation tints Mira’s voice here clearly. Relief is within reach and Mira’s body snaps to attention, thrumming and salivating so close to the finish line.
Thwack!
“T-Ten!” Mira sobs out the last number as she all but slumps forward, shaking as Rumi drops the paddle to the bed with a dull thump.
“Good girl. My good girl, you did so well, Mira.” Rumi is there by Mira’s side in an instant, cooing sweet words and praises as she brushes pink strands away from Mira’s face. Soft lips brush against Mira’s temple, and she whimpers as Rumi dotes on her with affectionate kisses, gentle yet firm as she handles her all the way to the end.
“Rumi… Sir, I can’t—“ Mira chokes on another whine, still trembling as want surges in her belly like a wave of molten heat. She squirms weakly atop the bed, her hips still high in the air while her thighs are kept spread.
“I have you, Mira. And your reward for taking your spankings so well.” Rumi murmurs as she kisses Mira’s brow, her cheek, and then a slow, deep kiss against her lips. Mira melts into it, pliant as Rumi holds her jaw, a thumb stroking the curve of her cheek with a tenderness that makes Mira’s chest flutter rapidly.
Rumi holds Mira’s face against hers, a firm grip on her lover’s jaw as she keeps on kissing her. Her free hand trails between Mira’s thighs, two gloved fingers sliding inside of her soaked pussy with ease. They sink deep inside, right up to the knuckle, and the loud, obscene keening sound Mira makes is absolutely delicious, absolutely worth the build-up of the night. It’s a throaty moan, a lewd cry of relief as she finally gets what she wants.
Rumi’s fingers pump in and out with steady strokes, curling deep to rub those sweet spots that have Mira twitching and writhing in ecstasy. Slick squelching sounds permeate the air as Rumi fingerfucks Mira relentlessly, no longer teasing or denying her lover. No, Mira has earned this reward with her obedience and endurance, and Rumi shall simply give it all to her lover.
“That’s it, baby. You’re squeezing me so much… fuck! You feel so damn good.” A throaty moan is pulled out of Rumi as she keeps on thrusting her hand, in awe of how Mira’s slick walls grip and squeeze and clench desperately around her fingers. She loves it, loves the way Mira has surrendered to her, loves the way Mira’s desperation has bled into something so viscerally that it affects her too. Rumi’s own stomach swoops low with arousal, her mouth dry and her heart racing a mile a minute as she watches Mira unravel in the face of such debauched pleasure.
“D-Don’t stop! Please, please, please!” Another guttural moan escapes Mira as she writhes, squirming uselessly under Rumi’s hold. Her hips stutter, that ass eagerly fucking back against Rumi’s hand to take her fingers in deeper, a mouth-watering display of wanton lust that almost makes Rumi lose her grip on her own self-control.
“I won’t, baby. Come for me, yes, yes—you’re beautiful like this. That’s right, come on my fingers, pretty girl.” Rumi shifts so that she’s behind Mira, one hand steady on Mira’s waist while the other plunges deep into her lover’s cunt. A third finger joins in and Mira’s back arches into a pretty bow as her pussy is stretched out further. Slick lewd noises continue to swirl in the air as Rumi maintains that steady pace, her brows furrowing as her forearm muscles begin to burn slightly in exertion. She keeps going though; it's impossible not to with the way Mira is thrashing and crying out, a living definition of exquisite, sinful temptation tangled in the throes of pleasure.
“C-Close! Sir, p-please—“
“Let go for me, Mira. Want you to come for me.” Rumi growls as she glides her free hand over Mira’s ass, a gentle caress over those scarlet heart-shaped marks. The reaction is instantaneous—Mira screams out a guttural moan as her body shudders violently, thrashing from the combination of her sensitive skin and the brutal precision of Rumi’s fingers. Her senses are all keyed-up, and the soft graze of leather over her hypersensitive reddened skin feels like an electrifying shock straight to her core. Mira keens loudly, shamelessly as white-hot pleasure flares in her lower belly, a flood of molten heat that snaps the last of her restraint clean into two.
“Fuck—a-ah!”
Mira screams as she orgasms hard, all that edging and spanking finally coming to a well-earned peak. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as her body slumps on top of the bed, convulsing as waves of pure pleasure crash into her repeatedly. She’s helpless against the onslaught, whimpering and whining beautifully as Rumi fucks her through her high with deep, curling strokes.
Liquid heat gushes from Mira’s pussy, soaking her inner thighs and Rumi’s hand and the sheets directly below her. It’s a lewd sight, one that leaves Rumi riveted by the flutter of her lover’s pussy around her hand. She moans under her breath, in awe of the way Mira’s walls are clenching so hard around her fingers, milking and squeezing her like they don’t want to let go.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby.” Rumi moans as she keeps pumping her hand, intent on wringing another out of Mira. She keeps thrusting three fingers in and out, rubbing against soft spongy patches, content with the way Mira writhes and thrashes with weak moans, whimpering at the oversensitivity. But she doesn’t ask for Rumi to stop, instead choosing to squirm and take the fucking greedily.
“Come again. Come on my hand again. You deserve it, pretty girl.”
“R-Rumi—I can’t, I c-can’t, S-Sir!”
“You can, I know you can. Take it like a good girl.” Rumi growls, low and rough as she keeps on plunging three fingers into Mira, her free hand migrating around Mira’s hip so her fingers can reach Mira’s swollen clit. It throbs against her touch, and Mira shrieks loudly as Rumi rubs circles on it, sobbing at the stark pleasure that floods her senses.
“O-Oh, god! Y-Yes, yes, yes!”
“Feel that? Your greedy pussy wants more.”
“N-No, I’m not—ahh!” Mira’s eyes are glazed over with pleasure, her mouth going slack as pressure coils in her belly. Rumi’s dirty talk only riles her up, and Mira whines as her cheeks flush hotter, stuttering out a broken moan as she hears the filthy wet noises that is her pussy being thoroughly fucked by her lover.
Another orgasm slams into Mira, harsh and unrelenting as Rumi coaxes it out of her. It feels so good, the constant touches and praises, the pleasure straddling the line of overstimulation. Mira squirts again, a gush of wetness coating Rumi’s gloved hand and the sheets below them. It’s a mess of stained fabric, but Mira looks like a vision, beautifully wrung out and ruined as she lays there trembling and sweating and whimpering so sweetly.
“R-Red! Red—Rumi!”
Rumi freezes immediately, the echo of the word snapping her attention to her lover. She withdraws her fingers gingerly, as slow as possible to prevent any discomfort.
“I have you, Mira. Are you hurt? Tell me where, baby.”
“N-No, just… ah, t-too sensitive.” Mira hisses quietly, her body sinking into the mattress as all the stimulation slows to a complete halt. She sighs as she feels Rumi moving around her, hears the telltale rustle of the gloves being taken off, and then relief blooms in her chest as she feels Rumi’s warm hands settling on her hips. The leather gloves feel divine on her body but this, having Rumi’s hands on her skin feels better than anything else.
“Got it. You did very good for me, Mira. Perfect. So perfect during all of it.” Rumi lavishes praise as she strokes up Mira’s back, her palms flat as they glide up Mira’s shoulder blades. They curl over the curve of Mira’s shoulders, squeezing affectionately before they smooth down Mira’s arms. It’s a repetition of gentle caresses until all the remaining tension in Mira’s body is simply gone, expunged from her system.
Soft lips press against Mira’s temple, and she lets out a content hum when Rumi says, “I’ll be right back, Mir. Gonna get a warm towel and some cream for you.”
“Mhmmm.”
It’s a swift moment, a few deep breaths that Mira takes until Rumi’s presence returns to her side. She blinks slowly as her lover’s scent wafts over her, warmth bleeding through her skin from Rumi’s careful touch.
“Spread, darling. Let’s get you cleaned up.” And Mira obeys quietly, sluggish in her movements. But Rumi is patient and loving during it all as she swipes a warm towel between Mira’s legs, mindful of her sensitive areas. The cream is next and it is a cool, soothing balm applied to Mira’s reddened skin. Rumi lathers the red skin with gentle circles, absentmindedly tracing the outline of the heart-shaped marks.
Cherry Red.
It’s the color that adorns Mira’s skin, such a deep shade of red present that it matches the complexion of Mira’s blush and the vibrant shine of her pink hair. Rumi can’t help the compulsion that surges through her, so she follows it and bends her head, brushing her lips against the curve of Mira’s ass and carefully lavishes the warm skin with kisses.
“Rumi… that’s…” A squeak comes out of Mira, surprise and an adorable flusteredness unfurling across her face as she feels Rumi touch her ass.
“You look so pretty like this, Mir.” Honesty lies in Rumi’s tone, reverence and adoration seeping from her tone as she brushes another gentle kiss to the heart-shaped marks.
After another minute, a soft whine rises from Mira. It prompts Rumi to raise her head, her gaze landing on Mira’s soft, fatigued expression. Mira’s voice slurs slightly as exhaustion begins to wash over her. “Take your clothes off. Want you to hold me.”
And Rumi smiles, bright-eyed and full of adoration as she slips her clothes off, quickly sliding beside Mira to embrace her. The blanket gets thrown around them before Rumi wraps her arms around Mira, pulling her closer until Mira’s head is tucked under her chin. Stray pink strands tickle her skin so she smoothes them down with an attentive hand.
“Lay on top of me. You can’t sleep on your back just yet, babe.”
“Mhmm, I know. Thank you.” Mira mumbles as she nuzzles into Rumi’s throat, sighing happily as she feels those strong arms wrapping around her frame, holding her tight like she’s something precious. A kiss is pressed to her forehead, and Mira smiles sleepily as she rubs her nose along Rumi’s collar.
“What about you? Did you…?”
“No. We can do something about that later if you’re up for it. Let me take care of you for now, Mira.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Thank you for letting me do all that. Tell me how you’re feeling when you wake later, baby.” Rumi is all soft and sweet as she runs a palm down the length of Mira’s spine, making her lover melt under all the affectionate touches. There’s adoration dripping from her tone, love seeping through every touch, and the happy mumble that Mira gives her in response doesn’t fail to make Rumi’s chest grow warm.
“Mhmm, I will. Love you, Ru.”
“I love you too, Mira.” Rumi’s lips stretch into a smile, warm and dopey as she settles into bed, happily holding Mira as they drift off into a peaceful slumber.