Hello, My beauties. Today on #fetchat, we’re talking about exhibitionism. For some reason, “On Display,” an erotic meditation popped into my head. Enjoy!
#Fetchat is a weekly Twitter Chat I co-host with Nikki (she/her)from loveisafetish.com (@loveisafetish on Twitter). Explore the kink/fetish landscape with us and learn about folks making a difference in the BDSM community. Join us every Wednesday at 5 pm, EST by either searching “fetchat” on Twitter or hanging out on the @Fet_Chat feed.
“Spread your legs,” your tone is pure delight. A tease and a promise are woven together in those three words.
My cheeks are flushed, my thighs trembling, and I’m glad we’d agreed to use a bench. I don’t think I could stand on my own. My knees would buckle before you issued your first order.
A crowd gathered as we were setting up. Well, you were doing all the work. I was a babbling disaster.
“Remind me why I wanted this again?” I’d asked.
You’d kissed me, a brief brush of lips. A physical reassurance we were in this together. Your expression had been assessing, like a sculptor staring at the masterpiece hidden within a block of marble.
“Because you’re a gorgeous degenerate, now stop distracting me,” you’d said, and we’d both giggled, reveling in our shared excitement.
It took a few minutes to calm down. Your aborted attempts at seriousness cascading into fits of laughter. The attitude of stern domination was never a look you could pull off for long periods. It’s why I fell in love with you.
Still, once we’d managed to wrestle control from our nerves, you’d stripped off my clothes with a cultivated air of boredom. It was like this was just another in a long line of dull tasks.
It was what I’d asked for when we’d planned the scene. Act like it’s a commonplace thing. Like you might as well be doing the dishes.
“You heard me,” you flick my nipples, the nail of your index finger scraping over the hardened bud. The frisson of pain drags me back into my body.
I spread myself open, revealing the flesh at the juncture of my thighs and the air in the club caresses the wet folds of my cunt.
The gaze of each onlooker is like a physical caress.
A sweet ache builds, low in the cradle of my hips, and my fingers itch to touch my clit. I want to stir pleasure into my skin, but tonight indulgence and gratification are yours to grant or withhold.
Whimpering, I close my eyes for a moment, retreating behind the curtain of my own thoughts, even as I’m craving the heady thrill of exposure.
Your hand tangles in my hair and tugs, a gentle reminder of who is in charge.
“Now, don’t disappear on me yet, love. We’re just getting started.”