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State of the Mind (20)

"She was making a name for herself within Burlesque shows up and down the country. Reviews said she had a sparkle about her, a lithe sequin like quality, a sexuality that shimmered beyond that of other performers. Her secret was him. He wouldn’t accompany her to the shows, but she knew he was in the audience. Somewhere, beyond the faces she could see, would be the eyes of the man she couldn’t. He with a gaze that could melt her heart and her knickers in equal measure.
She would flaunt each outfit, each routine for the crowd. Their cheers and applause surrounded her like a mist, within which she moved like a storm, crackling, roaring, possessed. She wondered what he might be thinking, of how he could react when he saw her. Would it be the softness of a man deeply in love, or would he tear her apart like a man on the run. Within either extreme she might be bound, tortured, teased.
Each outfit would be her ignite to see how the mood and the moment would take him. Tonight her routine was ‘The Magician’s Assistant’. She knew she looked cut in that top hat. She wondered how hard his cock would throb at the thought of her velvet gloves. Pondered still if he would take one and smooth it feverishly over her clit. Would she be bound. Tonight she yearned to be bound. More so, tonight she wanted to be taken. She cut extra holes in the web of her fishnets, that he might tear at her. Sweet fucking christ she wanted to be taken. Bent over, that tearing sound, his cock deep in her in one long hard thrust. Tonight she wanted no words of longing and romantic. She wanted to feel him pierce the bubble of her arse, just as he was spunking. His lube pushing his deeper into her, past the pain, that delicious pain, to feel him throb and moisten his heat deep within her.
There was a spanking for which she felt she’d deserved. Fishnets torn, he was going to hurt her, punish her, make her giggle and scream within equal measure. There was the time when - after stinging her backside to a degree of red raw within the way that he smacked it - he had cum over them afterwards. An effect like gunpowder and popping candy within the smart, the divine pleasure.
Yet, she didn’t know how he would react. To the show, to the outfit, to her dance, to the people. Just how was he going to mark her? Take her? How hard would he make her cum?
Just where was he in the audience?"

(Via ridiculouslybeautiful)


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