to feel your throat yield as my thumb and forefinger – and the webbing between them – press into it.
I want to hear that lovely combination of moan and gasp as your breath is momentarily, just a little shockingly, constrained.
I want to know that, though we remain dressed, your pussy has just gotten much wetter.
I want to lift you just a little bit taller, using my thumb and my forefinger – and the webbing between them – yes, but also lifting you up by the expanse between your throat – your soft, yielding throat – and your chin. I want to use your jawbone to lift you up, just a little.
I want to scare you. Well, not exactly to scare you. But I want to surprise you, and to trigger the rush of adrenaline that you’ll feel throughout your body, but, especially, in your chest, and in your cunt, as you wonder – will I stop in time? Will I choke you too hard? Too much? Too long?
You trust me. You know the answers to all these questions, and it’s that – the fact that even as you know the answers to the questions, they’re still pulsing through you, dripping out of you – it’s that that makes you want, no, need, to give me precisely what I want.
May I have it, please?