You Don’t Want Me to Stop

It is a thin line, the distance between fear and desire, between want and need, between hope that it is real and despair that it is too much so.

Laura: *shivers* And if I tried to stop you? Put my hands on yours?

D’jaevle: Without speaking? Just hands on mine? I’d pause…for a moment. And then continue, with your hands on mine, and now you’d be doing it with me.

Laura: …and if I asked you? to please stop?

D’jaevle: While you were trembling in my hands?
D’jaevle: I’d speak softly and tell you that you’d need to do more than that. That I was going to take it. That I could feel you wet already.

Laura: *blushes* And if I begged you? And told you I was afraid?

D’jaevle: Begged me to stop?

Laura: *nods*

D’jaevle: I’d take your hand and slide it down the front of your panties, guided by my own. Curl your fingers against the heat, let you feel how hot it felt.

Laura: *whimpers*

6 thoughts on “You Don’t Want Me to Stop”

  1. It is a very fine line indeed, D.

    I desire what I fear and I fear what I desire. I crave being led up to that edge over and over and over again.

    Even when I say stop and mean it, part of me usually wants to be cajoled, pushed or eased a little further along.

    But you knew that about me already.

  2. Getting pushed to the edge and then over it. Yes it’s a wonderful feeling.

    I would have to agree whole heartedly with Tess.

    I may say stop … but deep down I do believe it means to keep going.

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