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romugh · 1 month ago

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CINEMATIC SEDUCTION- BS

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 12th — humiliation, filming, spanking, sensory deprivation

DAY EIGHT || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- barbara sugarman x fem!reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!barbara, sight humiliation, filming, photographing?, eating out (from behind!! cheeeers), strappie (b rcv), blowie (r rcv), slight daddy kink if you squint? but like, dont blink or you'll miss it...

wc- 9.973k :) enjoy!

a/n- barbaraaaa is heeereee!! criminally underrated and not written about enough- i'm here to start that change *proud*!! honestly one of my fave characters, been wanting to write her for quite some time now :D i'm planning on turning this into a universe on its own, regularly writing bout these two :) sorry for the late post, got called into work 15hrs ago. i'm till here...)

synopsis- after an accidental photo reveals a hidden desire, Barbara and you dive headfirst into a wild night of passionate exploration that blurs the lines of boundaries. what had begun as a playful mistake quickly transforms into revealing your deepest fantasies and desires.

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches - comment or dm to be added :)

You’re sitting on your bed, smirking as you stare at the screen of your phone.

The picture you’re about to send to Barbara is bold—no, it’s downright filthy. It shows her spread out across the sheets, her legs open as your fingers disappear inside of her. The shot was taken accidentally, hence the blurriness, a moment captured without you even realising it until you scrolled through your photos earlier. Her hair is tousled, her face just out of view, but the angle captures the raw intimacy of the moment, the lightning highlighting the wetness glistening on your knuckles.

The memory rushes back to you—the way she moaned softly, her voice breaking into gentle gasps as she clenched around you. You can’t help but grin, knowing Barbara will be flustered when she sees it. You know she has a strong ‘disdain’ for porn, yet she can't resist the enticing photos of yourself you occasionally send her, and this new territory—one of herself— is bound to spark something inside her.

You send it off without a second thought, revelling in the anticipation as you watch the two arrows appear on the screen. They turn blue almost instantly, and you can’t help but chuckle, biting your lip in excitement. You wait a moment, letting the tension build before typing out a teasing message to accompany the photo. You can almost picture the flustered and shocked expression on her face as she processes what she just received. Finally, with a playful smirk, you press send on your follow-up message;

“B, I think my phone accidentally snapped a picture yesterday”

Barbara’s response to that is almost instant—three dots appearing on the screen, then disappearing just as quickly. You can picture the exact look on her face, the way her cheeks must be burning, her lips parted in surprise. She’s probably somewhere busy, maybe at the salon, trying to hide the flush creeping up her neck as she reads the message again and again.

A minute passes, then another. No reply. You chuckle to yourself, imagining how flustered she must be. She’s always been the kind of person who prides herself on being classy, the one who scoffs at the idea of porn being anything but trashy and degrading. Yet here she is, confronted with an image of herself in a way that she would never admit to finding erotic—at least, not out loud.

Meanwhile, on Barbara's end, the scene unfolds exactly as you imagined. She’s standing at her station, comb in one hand and her phone in the other, her heart pounding in her ears. She quickly glances around to see if anyone noticed her reaction, but the other stylists and clients are busy with their own chatter. It’s just her, staring down at that picture and the implications it carries.

She scrolls up, looking at it once more, and feels a rush of heat spreading between her legs, her body betraying her. It's not just the image itself that affects her—it’s also the realisation that the moment had been captured without her knowing. It’s the exposure, the rawness of it all that makes her feel vulnerable and a little (a lot) ashamed. And yet, that shame blends with something deeper, an unfamiliar twinge of excitement.

You wait a bit longer, then type out another message.

“I can almost hear your soft moans just by looking at it, baby. You look so beautiful, so gorgeous, so pretty, so mine. See you this weekend?”

She reads your new text, a mix of frustration and desire flickering across her features as she bites her lower lip. You can almost feel the tension radiating from her through the screen, and while she still doesn’t reply, you can tell the effect your words are having. You’ve witnessed how her body responds when she’s aroused—the subtle way her breath quickens, the tension in her shoulders as she tries to maintain her composure. Barbara has always preferred to keep things simple and vanilla, finding comfort in the intimacy of being eaten out and fingered gently, as if anything more adventurous would feel too overwhelming. Yet, you know her well enough to sense that it won’t be long before her carefully built walls begin to crack, and the ache of her desire pulls her closer to you, urging her to reach out.

The days pass in a frustrating blur for Barbara. She tries to keep herself busy, throwing herself into her work at the salon, chatting with clients, and catching up on errands. But no matter how hard she tries to push the image from her mind, it keeps creeping back in—the memory of your fingers, the slick heat of her own arousal, and that damn picture that sits, unsaved, in the depths of her phone.

She’s gone back to it more times than she’d like to admit. Late at night, when she’s finally alone, she finds herself unlocking her phone, her thumb hovering over the photo, wishing you were there with her. Every time she scrolls up to look at it, she feels a mix of shame and excitement curling deep in her belly. Her hand slides between her thighs almost instinctively, rubbing herself through her panties as she relives the sensation of you touching her just like that.

But then she’ll snap her phone shut with a frustrated sigh, tossing it onto the bed as if that could somehow help her regain control. Barbara isn’t used to feeling this way—needy, distracted, horny in a way that’s hard to ignore. She’s always prided herself on not being “one of those girls,” who fixate on sex the way she always thought men did. But now, there’s this nagging ache that won’t go away, an unfulfilled desire that makes her restless during the quiet moments.

At the salon, she fumbles with her tools more than once, zoning out when she should be listening to her client’s chatter. One afternoon, as she’s washing a customer’s hair, she catches herself daydreaming about the pressure of your fingers pushing inside her again, the sudden burst of warmth between her legs snapping her back to reality. She nearly drops the bottle of shampoo, cursing herself under her breath for letting her thoughts wander there of all places.

Every night of the week, she thinks about texting you—maybe to tease you back, maybe to demand that you come over and put an end to this torturous build-up. But pride keeps her from doing it. The most she manages is scrolling through the old messages, replaying your teasing words: “I can almost hear you moaning just looking at it again. Remember how you felt?”

It’s driving her mad, and you know it. You don’t usually go a full week without texting each other, sending each other little updates throughout the day or sending pictures and memes with a little “this made me think of you”-attachment.

Finally, when the weekend rolls around, you decide it’s time to check in on her. You send a simple text: “B, honey, I’m free all weekend. Want me to come over? Just finished my last uni class of the week.”

Her response is faster than you expected, and it’s almost breathless in its tone: “Yes, ofc. Got some spare clothes here already, come fast pls XX.”

When you arrive, the shift in her demeanour is immediately obvious. Barbara has always held herself with a confident, polished air, but tonight there’s a different energy to her—something desperate, like she’s been wound up too tight for too long. You can see it in the way she’s fidgeting, the way her eyes keep drifting toward your hands, like she’s already imagining what you’ll do to her.

You step closer, leaning in to whisper near her ear. “You seem... happy,” you say, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Miss me that much?”

Her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip, but there’s a spark of defiance in her eyes. “Just get inside,” she snaps, her voice breathless, but that familiar edge is there. She’s still trying to hold onto that composure, even as she takes your hand in hers, her movements just a bit too hurried to hide her impatience.

Barbara’s grip on your hand tightens as she pulls you over the threshold, but you play it cool, letting her urgency go unremarked. She’s breathless, eyes locked on yours with a hunger that’s barely masked by her usual composure.

“Something on your mind, B?” you ask casually, tilting your head with a faint smile. You keep your tone light and innocent, as if you’re genuinely oblivious to the tension radiating from her.

She huffs, an almost frustrated sound, and glances away for a moment before facing you again. “Just… come inside already,” she says, the words tumbling out in a rush. There’s a flush on her cheeks, and you know she’s been thinking about that picture for days.

You step inside her apartment, still keeping that same easy, nonchalant demeanour. “Come inside of you, or the apartment?” you tease with a playful grin.

She rolls her eyes, but the way she bites her bottom lip again betrays her arousal. “You know what I mean,” she mutters, dragging you toward her living room.

Once you’re there, you take a slow look around, giving her a moment to compose herself. You act as if nothing’s out of the ordinary, keeping your movements casual. “Nice place,” you say, glancing at her like this is just another ordinary visit—which it is, technically—when you can feel the heat emanating from her skin.

She stands there, her frustration mounting. Her breaths are short and quick, and you can see the tension in her posture. When she catches your eye again, it’s like she’s daring you to break the pretence and admit you know exactly what’s going on.

But you don’t. Not yet, at least.

“Are you okay, Barbs?” you ask, the innocent tone lacing your words as you step closer, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You look a little flushed. Long day at the salon?”

She huffs, a touch of irritation breaking through her composure. “You could say that,” she murmurs, but there’s something else in her voice—a raw edge that slips through despite her best efforts.

You watch as Barbara fidgets in the living room, her fingers playing nervously at the hem of her dress. The tension between you is palpable, and you can feel it hanging thick in the air, even if she’s trying to pretend there’s nothing to it. It’s almost amusing—her stubborn determination to act like she thinks this is just another evening, like she didn’t spend the past few days with that picture etched into her mind, lingering in the space between her thoughts.

She’s always kept things so composed, so proper, and it’s rare for you to see her this wound up. Usually, she’d have already found a way to distract herself, a way to brush off the blush creeping up her neck. But today, it’s different. You know it, and deep down, she does too.

You raise an eyebrow, letting your hand trail down her arm with a touch that’s light, almost tender. “You sure you’re alright?” you press, your voice dipping into that familiar note of concern, though there’s a hint of playfulness underneath it. “You’re acting a little… weird.”

The corners of your mouth curl up as she tries to keep her composure, but the way her breath hitches when your fingers brush her skin tells you everything you need to know. She’s unravelling bit by bit, even if she’s not ready to admit it. You step back, giving her some much needed space as you turn toward the kitchen. “Why don’t we get started on dinner?” you suggest casually, as if you hadn’t noticed the tension at all.

She hesitates for a moment before following you, her eyes lingering on you as you pull ingredients from the fridge and set them on the counter. As you move around the kitchen, the two of you slip into a familiar rhythm, chopping vegetables and prepping sweet potato fries. The garlic aioli is coming together, the smell of freshly crushed garlic and lemon juice filling the room. You can’t help but notice how Barbara keeps stealing glances at you, her eyes lingering on the flex of your biceps each time you slice into the garlic or mix the dressing.

She keeps telling herself it’s just because you look good—better than usual, maybe, with the way your shirt fits just right, hugging your shoulders and arms. It has to be that… not the way her mind keeps drifting back to that picture, not the idea of those strong hands holding her down or gripping her throat, not the thought of how easily you could make her melt with just a touch. Her breath catches in her throat as she tries to push those thoughts away, a darker blush creeping up her neck.

Barbara’s always been the “sex is special” kind of girl. To her, intimacy was sweet and gentle, much more romantic than it was raw. She never thought of herself as someone who could get off on something as simple as watching you cook. But lately, especially this week, something’s been shifting between you two, and she can’t help but feel her body reacting to your deliberate touches, your casual brush against her back as you reach for another knife, or the way your hand lingers a little too long on her waist when you squeeze past her to get to the fridge. It’s a slow burn that has her thighs clenching together each time you draw near, her heart racing with a blend of embarrassment and something darker, something deeper.

You notice, of course—how could you not? Every little tremble in her voice when she speaks, the slight hitch in her breath whenever you touch her, no matter how innocent it may seem. It’s intoxicating, seeing the effect you have on her, watching her struggle to maintain her composure. She’s been growing more responsive over the past few weeks, her desire simmering just beneath the surface, and you’ve loved every second of teasing it out. This past week—even if it was silent—might have been your favourite week of your life, even.

As you work together on the salad, you can’t resist trailing your hand along her lower back, letting your fingertips brush against her hip as you step closer. "Pass me the olive oil?" you ask casually, your voice low and soft in her ear. She shivers at the nearness of your voice, her pulse quickening.

“Y-yeah,” she murmurs, reaching for the bottle, but her hand is shaky as she places it into yours.

“Thanks, beautiful,” you say with a knowing smile, your eyes meeting hers for a split second longer than necessary.

It’s becoming clear that she’s barely holding herself together, every touch from you sending sparks through her. Her mind flits back to that picture and the feeling of your fingers buried inside her. She feels that familiar heat pooling low in her belly, her arousal sneaking up on her even as she tries to keep her focus on the task at hand.

After cooking, you plate everything, arranging the food just the way she likes it. As you move to carry the plates to the couch, you catch her eye again, a playful glint in your gaze. She swallows hard, trying to tell herself that it’s just dinner with you—that there’s nothing going on. But with every step you take beside her, she feels herself unravelling a little more, the boundaries she clings to slipping away inch by inch.

You settle in on the couch with Barbara, the plates balanced on your laps. That’s a rare occasion—usually, you insist on eating at the table, but tonight, you decide to let it slide. She seems like she needs the break, and besides, there’s something about the relaxed intimacy of sharing a meal here that makes it feel special.

You sit close—closer than usual, purposefully, your thigh firmly pushed against hers as you get comfortable. Barbara’s cheeks are still tinged with a light pink, the warmth in the room seeming to mirror the heat spreading through her body. As the daily documentary about an architect—this time Tadao Ando—begins, you glance at her, noticing how she squirms slightly at your proximity.

“You kept all the episodes I missed?” you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice, though the gesture warms your heart.

Barbara nods, her eyes fixed on the screen, but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips. “Figured we’d catch up on them together when you had the time,” she replies softly.

Her cheeks flush even more when she feels your breath near her ear. As you casually lean in, reaching over her for the remote to adjust the volume, your arm presses against hers, and she bites her lip. You pretend not to notice the subtle shift in her breathing, the way she keeps stealing glances at your hands whenever she can. It’s becoming harder for her to convince herself that this fluttering in her stomach is simply because of you—or the comfort of having you near.

But you remain composed, every movement deliberately measured, as if unaware of the way her body reacts. When you brush a stray hair behind her ear or your fingertips graze the inside of her wrist or thigh, Barbara stiffens for just a moment before she forces herself to relax. It’s almost like a game now, one that only one of you acknowledges, but both play nonetheless. The closeness is driving her wild, and she can barely focus on the screen in front of her.

As the documentary draws to a close, Barbara shifts beside you, her breath uneven, and you can feel the tension in the air thickening with every second. You’ve spent the last hour teasing her with every subtle touch, every whispered word, and it’s as if she’s barely holding herself together. You can sense that something is about to give.

Without a word, she moves, straddling your lap in one swift motion. Her hands cup your face as her lips crash into yours, the kiss fueled by pent-up frustration and longing. You feel her urgency, the way her body melts against yours as she leans in closer, her hips grinding down on your thigh with a needy rhythm. You can't help but grin into the kiss, feeling the heat and desperation radiating off her.

Barbara pulls back just enough to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she glares at you, her eyes dark with desire. "Shut up, don’t talk," she whispers, her voice breathy and strained as she tugs at your hair, not waiting for a response before diving back in, her lips capturing yours once more with even more intensity.

Your hands roam over her body, tracing the curves of her waist before slipping under the hem of the dress she's wearing. The fabric rides up higher as you slide your fingers along her thighs, drawing a shiver from her with each touch. The kiss deepens, and you can feel her hands trembling slightly as they work to undo your belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle in her eagerness.

Somehow, amidst the fevered exchange of kisses and frantic touches, her dress has ended up discarded on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her lacy undergarments. She sits atop you, her skin warm and soft beneath your hands, her breathing ragged as she looks down at you, her pupils blown wide with lust.

You can’t resist teasing her, your fingers slipping beneath the band of her panties to graze her bare skin. “Couldn’t wait, huh?” you murmur against her lips, your voice a low rumble that makes her squirm.

She lets out a frustrated whine, her nails digging into your shoulders as she grinds herself down harder on your thigh, seeking friction. “Just shut up and kiss me,” she demands, and there’s a desperation in her tone that sends a surge of heat through you.

You capture her mouth again, your kiss rougher this time, your hands gripping her hips and guiding her movements as she rocks against you. Her moans grow louder, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you can feel the wetness seeping through the thin fabric of her panties onto your trousers. Your hands explore her body with purpose now, tracing the line of her spine, slipping beneath the clasp of her bra as you tug her closer.

Barbara’s fingers finally manage to free your belt, and with a triumphant little noise, she starts working on the button of your pants. She pulls back just enough to look at you, her chest heaving as she takes in the sight of you beneath her. There’s a wildness in her eyes now, a hunger that matches your own.

Before you can say anything, she leans in close, her voice a low, needy whisper against your ear. “Please take me,” she breathes, her hands slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, brushing against your skin as she starts to tug them down.

The words send a thrill coursing through you, and with a swift motion, you pull her flush against you, your mouth finding hers once more. You can feel her smile against your lips, the kiss turning heated and messy as the last remnants of restraint slip away.

The air is thick with heat and the taste of Barbara’s kisses lingers on your lips as you pull back slightly, your forehead pressed against hers. She’s panting softly, her skin flushed a lovely pink that spreads down her neck. As you gaze into her eyes, you can’t resist the temptation to tease her.

“Can’t believe all it took was that one little picture,” you say, a playful glint in your eye, “to turn you into a sinful needy lesbian. What would your parents think?”

Barbara’s breath hitches, and for a moment, there’s a flash of embarrassment in her eyes. But then she bites her bottom lip, a boldness shining through as she meets your gaze. “I’m fine with sinning,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky, “as long as it’s with you.”

The admission sends a spark of desire racing through you, and you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. “So… if that’s the case,” you say, your tone taking on a teasing lilt, “does that mean I’m allowed to film you?” You let the words hang in the air for a beat, watching as her cheeks flush even deeper. “Or maybe just take a little picture for my lock screen?”

You start off joking, but the way Barbara’s pupils dilate and her breath catches tells you there’s more than just humour in your suggestion. Her reaction is almost involuntary—her lips part slightly, her gaze locked on yours as if the very idea has unravelled something inside her.

No words are needed; the look in her eyes is all the answer you need. A slow, wicked grin spreads across your lips as you lean in to kiss her, this time softer, letting the moment linger. The kiss feels different—like a promise, a shared secret, a step into territory neither of you had planned to cross but find yourselves diving into headfirst.

Without breaking the kiss, you stand up, scooping Barbara into your arms with ease. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, her arms clutching your shoulders as you hold her close. She lets out a breathy sigh, burying her face in your neck as you carry her down the hall, her body pressed tight against yours.

The feeling of her warmth, the way she clings to you, it’s like carrying something fragile and precious—yet burning with a fire that matches your own. There’s no rush in your steps; you take your time, savouring the way her breath tickles your skin, the slight tremor in her grip.

As you set Barbara down gently on the bed, your gaze sweeps over her, taking in every detail. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, the rosy hue of her cheeks radiates warmth, and the glimmer of excitement mixed with uncertainty in her eyes ignites a spark in you.

“Sit on the edge for me,” you instruct playfully, your heart racing at the sight of her eager nod. The anticipation in the air thickens, making you feel giddy with excitement and a hint of mischief.

You grab your phone, holding it up to capture the moment. “Just one second,” you murmur, feeling the thrill of what’s about to unfold.

“Okay, just breathe,” you reassure her, noticing the way her chest rises and falls with a slight tremor. You start with a close-up of her kiss-swollen lips, glistening slightly. “God, you’re so pretty,” you murmur, snapping the picture. The way her eyes widen with embarrassment makes you grin, but you continue, sensing her desire to please despite her shyness.

“Now, this one,” you say, positioning the camera to focus on her breasts, the lacy red lingerie clinging to her curves beautifully. You notice the way she bites her lip, a mix of vulnerability and thrill in her expression. “You look so good in this,” you reassure her, snapping the picture and enjoying the way her cheeks darken to match the colour of the set she's wearing.

Next, you direct the lens down to her tummy, the slight rolls soft and inviting. “Don’t hide any of this,” you tell her gently, trying to coax a smile from her as you take another photo. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” She glances away, her embarrassment palpable, but the hint of a smile breaks through.

Your gaze shifts to her thighs, slightly reddened from where you gripped her during your earlier heated moments together. “Can’t forget this,” you tease lightly, capturing the evidence of your earlier intimacy with a quick snap, feeling a thrill of excitement run through you.

“Now, this one,” you say, your thumb ghosting over her lips as she watches you through half-lidded eyes. You take the photo, your heart racing at the intimate display, and you can see her battling between shyness and wanting to please you. The vulnerability in her expression is endearing, but you can see the worry flicker across her face. “What if my parents see?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, anxiety lacing her words.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “They won’t. No one will see these, I promise,” you assure her, leaning in closer, your breath warm against her ear. “It’s just for me. Just for me to enjoy.”

As if caught in a moment of daring, Barbara leans closer, taking your thumb between her lips, looking straight at the camera with a mixture of boldness and uncertainty. Your breath catches at the sight, the image almost too perfect to capture. Click.

“Us. For us,” she says softly, her voice thick with desire.

A groan escapes your lips at her words, and you feel a rush of heat flood your body. You can’t resist her any longer; the sight of her like this ignites something primal inside you. You turn her around on her stomach, adjusting her position to display her perfect form.

You hear the distinct click of your phone as you snap a picture of her ass, barely covered by the lacy red thong. The fabric clings to her curves, and the way her skin glows with a soft sheen makes your heart race. Barbara hides her face in the sheets, embarrassment flooding her features.

“Oh, my pretty slut shouldn’t feel ashamed,” you murmur, your tone low and commanding. “You’re so beautiful for me, baby.” With that, you deliver a firm spank to her exposed skin, the sound echoing in the room.

Each spank sends heat radiating through you, and you snap a picture after each one, watching her cheeks grow redder with every strike. You can feel the way her body responds, soft gasps escaping her lips as you squeeze her cheeks, relishing the sensation of her warmth beneath your hands.

Around the seventeenth spank, a soft, involuntary “daddy” slips from her lips, and you feel a thrill at the sound. You recognize the vulnerability behind it but choose not to comment, focusing instead on her flushed face, now streaked with mascara from her earlier tears.

“Look at me, Barbara,” you say, gently turning her back around to face you. Her eyes are wide, filled with a mixture of embarrassment and something deeper. You snap a picture of her pretty face, capturing the way her cheeks glow and her eyes shimmer with shed tears.

Barbara glances at the phone, a flicker of confidence crossing her features as she takes it from you. She presses the film button, and you’re surprised by the sudden shift in her demeanour. She begins filming, her hands moving to caress her own body, focusing the lens on her curves.

You watch, mesmerised, as her hands glide over her soft tummy rolls, revealing the gentle stretch marks that decorate her skin like art. Her abs peek through too, hinting at the strength beneath her softness. The way her fingers dance across her body is intoxicating, and you can feel your heart race with every movement.

As she starts to tremble, a soft whine spilling from her mouth, you take over the filming, determined to capture her in all her glory. You start by framing her lovely face, the way her features contort with pleasure and vulnerability, and then you let the camera travel down her body.

Your eyes capture every detail—her soft, beautiful tummy rolls, the gentle curves that invite you in, and the way her skin glows under the soft light. You continue down, admiring the delicate lines that tell her story and the way her thighs form a perfect silhouette.

As you focus on her core, the camera angles just right, framing the way her body quivers under your gaze. Each breath she takes, every slight shift in her body, drives you wild with desire. The moment feels electric, raw, and utterly intimate, and you can’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness and pride as you film the beauty before you.

With the heat of the moment igniting something wild within you, you shift your focus back to Barbara. “Turn around,” you command softly, and she hesitates for just a second, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. But the eagerness to please overpowers her hesitance, and she complies, getting onto all fours at the edge of the bed.

The sight is breathtaking. Her body is a tantalising mix of strength and softness, the lacy red lingerie clinging to her curves in all the right places. You can’t help but admire the way her back arches, the gentle curve of her spine leading down to the roundness of her backside. A thrill shoots through you, and with a teasing smirk, you deliver another gentle slap to her backside. She jumps slightly, a soft gasp escaping her lips, and you relish the sound. “Move up. I want to see all of you.”

With a mix of excitement and trepidation, she crawls further onto the bed, her movements slow and deliberate as if she’s savouring each moment. You watch the way her breath quickens, the way her cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson. You can sense her vulnerability, see it even, but also her willingness to step out of her comfort zone for you (and herself. God she really needs you to just fuck her within an inch of her life.).

“Hold on to this for me,” you say, passing her the phone. As she grips it, her eyes dart to the screen, where her exposed form is displayed in a vulnerable, yet undeniably sexy light. The sight sends another wave of heat rushing through her, and you can see the mix of embarrassment and thrill reflected in her gaze. She bites her lip, glancing up at you as you make your way to the side of the bed, opening your self-proclaimed side of her wardrobe, the tension palpable.

“Just look at how pretty you are,” you murmur, your voice dripping with admiration. “You’re so gorgeous, you know that?”

Then, with a predatory glint in your eye, you turn around with silk ropes and a strap in your hands. The soft fabric of the ropes is inviting while the strap makes Barbara’s eyes widen, a promise of what’s to come. You approach her, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through both of you. “Trust me?” you ask, your tone gentle but firm.

Barbara nods, her breath hitching as you bind one of her hands to the headboard, the silk wrapping snugly around her wrist. You take your time, making sure she feels secure but not constrained. The sight of her like this—vulnerable yet trusting—fuels your desire, and you can’t help but admire the way her body responds to each touch.

“Now, I want you to film for me,” you instruct, your eyes gleaming with mischief. She does as you say, positioning it in between her legs, giving the camera a clear view of her dripping pussy, glistening with arousal. You lean in closer, your breath warm against her skin, the anticipation thick in the air.

“Just like that, B, nice job,” you coax her, your voice low and sultry. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

With a teasing grin, you gently spread her folds, revealing the slickness that’s pooled there, evidence of her arousal. She shivers under your touch, her body trembling as you toy with her, pushing her boundaries. You relish the sound of her gasps and moans, feeling a surge of power knowing you’re the one bringing her this pleasure.

“Let me show you something special,” you say, your voice dripping with seduction. Leaning in, you spit on her folds, watching as the warm fluid streams down her soft skin. The sight is primal, a raw display of desire that sends a jolt of excitement through both of you.

“Look at that,” you murmur, your gaze drifting up to admire the way her back arches even further. “This is all for you, baby.” The way she shakes her head gently and gasps sends a thrill through you, knowing how much she’s enjoying this. You can practically hear her heart racing, her trust in you making her bolder, and you decide to keep pushing.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re vulnerable,” you whisper, spreading her folds wider for the camera, letting it capture every detail.

With the phone still capturing every moment, you return your attention to Barbara’s folds, relishing in the way they glisten under the soft light. The way she’s positioned, with her back arched and her free hand gripping the sheets, amplifies her vulnerability. It’s intoxicating. You press your thumb against her wetness, teasingly pushing through her folds, the slickness making it easy to glide along her sensitive skin.

“Look at you,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry. “You’re absolutely breathtaking.” You can see her shiver at the compliment, her body responding instinctively to your touch. Her breath hitches, and a low whine escapes her lips as you continue to tease her, your thumb drawing lazy circles around her clit.

“Please,” she gasps, her voice a mix of desperation and pleasure. “I need more.”

You flash a wicked grin, loving how eager she is, yet you want to take your time. “Oh, we’re just getting started, baby.”

With a teasing flick of your thumb, you send her spiralling into whines and grunts, pushing her just a little closer to the edge. You feel a thrill at the way her body reacts, the way she instinctively moves back against your touch, searching for more. She’s absolutely captivating, and every whimper, every gasp fuels your desire to take her further.

Deciding it’s time to explore this new territory, you position yourself comfortably behind her, moving your face closer to her. The anticipation hangs thick in the air, a mix of excitement and a hint of trepidation. You lean in, your breath warm against her slick folds, and then you dive in, your tongue lapping at her entrance.

The sensation is exquisite. Barbara gasps, her entire body tensing at the new feeling, and you can hear her breath hitch as you explore her softness with your tongue. The warmth of her skin against your mouth sends a thrill through you, and you can’t help but savour the taste of her. She’s never been eaten out like this, never this spread open for you, but the sensations are electric.

“Just... oh God,” she breathes out, her voice thick with need as you continue to feast on her.

You hum in agreement, sending vibrations through her as you continue to explore, relishing the sounds of her pleasure. With each flick of your tongue, you explore her folds, tasting the sweet nectar that drips from her. You’re careful and attentive, making sure she feels comfortable while also pushing her into a whirlwind of sensations.

Feeling a rush of excitement, you film a close-up of your actions, switching the camera to your left hand and positioning it to capture the view of Barbara's dripping pussy as you lick her. The knowledge of your phone capturing the sight of her glistening folds, pulsing with need, fills you with exhilaration. The sound of your tongue slurping against her, mingling with the wetness, creates a melody of pleasure that fuels your desire.

As you shift your focus from the camera back to your girlfriend, you can see her body quaking with pleasure. She seems to realise what exactly you’re doing, and it drives her to the edge of her limits. Her breath quickens, and you can see the flush creeping up her cheeks, making her even more intoxicating.

“More,” she gasps, her voice trembling with desperation. “Please, don’t stop.”

The intensity of her request sends a thrill through you, and you dive back in, your tongue exploring deeper, savouring every taste. As you continue to eat her out, you can feel her getting closer, her body responding more vocally than ever before, whines and grunts spilling from her lips as you edge her closer to release.

With each flick of your tongue, she becomes louder, her moans spilling out like sweet music, and you find yourself getting even more excited. Hearing her this vocal is intoxicating; the sounds escaping her lips are pure ecstasy. “Oh my God, yes!” she cries, the volume of her voice echoing through the room.

You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach at the sight and sound of her, and you angle the camera to capture her folds as they pulse and quiver around your tongue, her pleasure evident in every movement.

“Look at you,” you murmur, not wanting to break the rhythm, the words just for her present and future ears as you tease her with your tongue. “So beautiful, so needy.”

“Please… don’t stop,” she begs, her body rolling back against your mouth as she gasps and whines, her fingers tightening around the sheets.

You continue to explore her with your tongue, alternating between teasing licks and deeper plunges, capturing the entire moment on camera. Every slurp, every moan, every shudder from you fuels Barbara’ desire further, and you push her closer to the edge, absolutely savouring the intoxicating blend of vulnerability and pleasure radiating from her.

As your tongue works its magic, you can feel the tension in Barbara’s body coiling tighter by the second, each flick and swirl of your tongue pushing her even closer to the edge. Her moans grow more frantic, each sound spilling out of her like a sweet confession. “I can’t... I’m so close,” she whimpers, her breath hitching as you continue your delicious torment.

You position the camera to capture the way her body arches in response to your touch again. Every sound she makes fills you with pride, knowing you’re the only one bringing her this pleasure. “Let go, Barbs,” you encourage softly, your voice laced with desire. “I’ve got you.”

With one final flick of your tongue, you push her over the edge. “Oh, God!” she cries out, her voice breaking as she shudders, her body tensing before releasing into a wave of ecstasy. The sight of her climax is breathtaking; her muscles quiver around your tongue as her moans fill the room, and you can’t help but capture every second of it, the camera trained on her dripping core.

As she rides the waves of pleasure, you pull back slightly, allowing her to bask in the aftermath of her orgasm. Barbara collapses onto the sheets, breathless and blissed out, a soft smile forming on her lips as she turns her head slightly to meet your gaze. You can’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with affection for the girl before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur, your fingers brushing against her back, your other hand still gripping the phone. “You okay?”

Barbara nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah... just... wow.” Her cheeks are still flushed, and you can see the way her body relaxes as the tension melts away.

You take a moment to enjoy this soft connection, your heart racing at the intimacy of it all. “You did so good, baby.”

Slowly, you pull back, reaching for the strap, the sight of it making Barbara gasp and smile softly as she watches you. You can see the excitement dancing in her eyes, mixed with a hint of shyness that pulls at your heart.

“I, um...” she starts, hesitating. “I’ve been wanting to ask you about that.”

You smile softly, moving closer. “This one?” You hold it up, your voice teasing. “I bought it not too long ago, but I wasn’t going to use it unless you asked for it.”

“Please,” Barbara begs, a hint of desperation in her voice that makes your heart race. “I need it.”

“Need it, huh?” you tease, your grin widening. “Okay, B.”

You slide it on, and Barbara’s breath quickens. “You ready?” you ask, caressing her very red and lightly blue backside, wanting to ensure she feels comfortable and cherished.

“Yeah,” she breathes, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. “I—Please.”

With a gentle pull, you guide her to get back to her previous position, her body trembling slightly as she settles into it. You admire the sight, her form curving beautifully, the silk rope binding her hand to the headboard just adding to her allure.

“Just breathe for me,” you murmur, your hands gently running over her back. You take a moment to savour the sight before you, the way her body glistens in the soft light, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air. You position yourself behind her, the strap-on pressed against her slick folds. “This is going to feel a little different, okay? Tell me if you need a breather, baby”

Barbara nods, her breath coming in quick bursts as she pushes her hips back, trying to get you to slip inside. You tease the tip of the strap-on against her entrance, seeing her slickness envelop you. She gasps, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding her system.

As you push in slowly, you can feel the resistance at first, the pressure against her entrance making your heart race. You lean forward slightly, planting kisses along her back, whispering soft reassurances as you gradually push inside her. “You’re okay, you’re doing so good.”

With a gentle but firm push, you breach that initial resistance, and you gasp at the sight as Barbara gaps at the sensation. The way her core pulls you in is intoxicating, each inch of your strap pushing deeper eliciting a mixture of pleasure and sweetness between you. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, the sight of you filling her overwhelming.

You keep the camera steady, focused on the way she looks back at you, her eyes wide with a blend of excitement and disbelief. The moment is intimate and raw, yet filled with an underlying edge of excitement. Each thrust is deliberate, capturing the way her body responds to you, the heat radiating from her as you push deeper.

“More,” she breathes, her voice thick with need. “Please, I need more.”

You give her what she asks for, the rhythm of your thrusts gradually becoming more intense. You relish the sounds of her pleasure, the soft gasps and moans spilling from her lips, and you can’t help but tease her with a light spank to her ass.

“Such a good girl,” you murmur, watching her cheeks flush as the sound reverberates through the room. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes!” she cries, the mixture of your words and the sensation sending her spiralling further into pleasure. You can see her body tightening around you, and with each thrust, you push deeper, the strap-on stretching her just right.

As you continue to thrust into her, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the air, mingling with her moans. You keep filming every moment, capturing the way her body moves with each thrust, the intensity of the connection between you.

Barbara's head falls forward, resting on her free arm as she surrenders to the sensations coursing through her. Her back arches, tilting her hips up in a way that makes you slip even deeper inside her. The sudden change in depth makes her loud moans catch in her throat, turning into silent gasps as the strap reaches places that send jolts of pleasure through her entire body.

Not wanting to let her escape the intensity, you reach forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her head up, her soft strands wrapping around your fingers. "Uh-uh, don’t hide from me," you whisper, your voice rough with desire as you lift her enough to grab her free arm, pulling it behind her back. The position gives you leverage, letting you thrust even deeper, and the way she cries out makes your pulse race.

You hold the camera steady, capturing the way Barbara’s body reacts—her ass bouncing with every thrust, her skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. You zoom in, adoring the sight of her juices collecting at the base of the strap, slick and glistening. The camera catches the way her folds stretch around it, her body trembling with every deep, demanding thrust.

The moment you push in even harder, Barbara's voice breaks free, filling the room with even louder, more desperate moans that border on pornographic. The sound sends a thrill of excitement through you, your own breath coming in ragged gasps as you keep thrusting, keeping up the intense pace."That's it, baby," you pant, tightening your grip on her hair and pulling just a bit harder. The increased tension causes her to clench tighter around the strap, making each thrust require a bit more effort. "Let it out," you urge, your voice rough with desire and need. "I want to hear you."

Barbara's entire body trembles, her moans becoming higher-pitched, turning into needy whimpers as she chases the peak of her pleasure. The combination of being restrained, hair pulled, and filled so deeply pushes her to the edge in a way that’s overwhelming.

She releases a loud, primal cry as her orgasm crashes over her, her walls clenching tightly around the strap. The filthy sounds of your thrusts fill the air, each wet slap echoing the intensity of the moment. Her body trembles, and you can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the sheer ecstasy painting her flushed cheeks and neck a deeper shade. Her thighs shake uncontrollably, her body arching even more as waves of pleasure crash over her, the intensity drawing sobs from her throat. “Oh, God, yes—” she babbles, tears welling up as she completely loses herself to the sensations.

You keep filming, capturing every moment of her climax, the way her body spasms, her back arching beautifully, her juices dripping down her thighs. Your heart swells with a mixture of love and raw desire, knowing that you’re the one bringing her to this state of complete bliss.

After helping her ride out her orgasm, you pull out slowly, savouring the way Barbara’s trembling body shudders one last time at the withdrawal. The sight of leaving her warmth feels like an exhale, a gentle release of everything that’s built up. You flop down on the bed next to her, the camera momentarily forgotten in your hand, capturing nothing more than blurred glimpses of movement and crumpled sheets.

Barbara stays sprawled on her stomach, her breathing still heavy and unsteady. You gently tug at the silk ropes, releasing the knot that had kept one of her hands bound. As you free her, she lets out a sigh of relief, her body finally able to relax after the intensity of the experience. Her fingers clench and unclench against the sheets, a subtle reminder of the vulnerability she just embraced, her knuckles pale from the force of her grip. Her other hand, the one you had pulled behind her back, lays limp by her side, too exhausted to do anything but rest.

You turn onto your side, reaching out to her. Your fingers brush against her cheek, gently tracing the flushed skin there as you tenderly caress her face. Her eyes flutter open, still glazed with the aftershocks of pleasure, and you can see the quiet vulnerability that lingers.

“Hey,” you murmur, your thumb stroking softly over her cheekbone. “You did so, so well. You have no idea how proud I am of you.” The words come out softly, filled with nothing but adoration and reassurance. “I love you, Barbs. More than anything.”

She leans into your touch, a tired but genuine smile spreading across her lips. Her breaths come slower now, more even, as she clings to the tenderness in your voice. The intensity may have passed, but the connection between you both is undeniable, still electric in the air around you.

The three words hang in the air for a moment, and you can see the shift in Barbara's expression as she processes them, her eyes widening, a mixture of surprise and something deeper, more vulnerable. It's the first time you’ve said it—I love you. The words had slipped out easily, yet they carried the weight of everything you’d felt for so long but hadn’t voiced.

Before any doubt can creep in, you continue, your gaze locked on hers. “Not because of this,” you clarify softly, your fingers tracing a tender path along her jaw. “It’s not just the heat of the moment. I love you for you—for everything you are, what you mean to me.” The honesty in your voice seems to ground the confession, a reassurance that it’s about her as a person, not just the intensity of your shared desire.

Barbara's eyes glisten with emotion, and she takes a steadying breath before pushing herself up slightly, still trembling from the aftershocks. Her hand comes to your side, nudging you with a gentle insistence until you roll onto your back. The strap is still attached to your hips, standing tall and glistening with her arousal. The sight of it sends a new flush across her cheeks, but there’s a spark in her eyes as she meets your gaze.

Leaning down, she kisses you deeply, pouring all the affection and passion she can muster into the touch of her lips. It’s a kiss that feels like an answer, a silent acknowledgment of the words you spoke, and a promise of everything she wants to give back. As she pulls away, her lips curve into a small, almost mischievous smile. Slowly, she begins to trail kisses down your body, her breath warming your skin with every inch she covers.

When she reaches your hips, she hesitates just for a moment, then glances up at you with a glint of determination. “Let me clean up the mess I made,” she murmurs, her voice still a little shaky but filled with intent. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, her gaze fixed on the strap before her. She looks back up at you, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

“Will you film it?” she asks, the boldness in her voice tempered by a hint of nervousness. “I want you to have something to look at, too.” Her eyes flicker with a need to please, a want to give you something special, something tangible to remember this moment by.

The way Barbara’s lips wrap around the strap has your breath catching in your throat. Her movements are tentative at first, her tongue tracing a careful path along the length of it, and the sight alone is enough to send a thrill coursing through you. Even though there’s no physical sensation, the visual—watching her willingly pleasure the toy, her eyes flicking up to yours as she goes—is intoxicating. It’s the vulnerability in her gaze, the way her mouth works the strap with a softness that’s almost reverent, that has your pulse racing.

You film her with trembling hands, capturing the way her tongue darts out to lick along the shaft, her spit adding a glistening sheen that catches the light. When she takes more of the toy into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing, the camera shakes slightly in your grasp. You can’t stop the quiet gasp that slips out, the sight of Barbara—so willing and intent on giving herself to this—making your skin prickle with warmth.

Barbara keeps her eyes locked on you, as if reading the effect she’s having. Her hands grip your thighs and stomach for support, and the soft sounds she makes—quiet moans and soft hums—add to the heady mix of sight and sound. Each time she bobs her head forward, taking the toy deeper, the camera shakes a little more. It’s hard to hold steady when your whole body is trembling, overwhelmed by the sight of her devotion.

Eventually, Barbara notices the way your phone wavers, the way your breath comes in shallow bursts. She pulls off with a quiet pop, her lips shining with her own saliva, and she gives you a soft, reassuring smile. Reaching out, she gently takes the phone from your hands. “Let me,” she whispers, her voice low and breathless.

She turns the camera on herself, focusing on the way the strap glistens with her spit and arousal. She runs her tongue along the length of the toy again, as if savouring the taste of what remains there. Her lips part to take it back into her mouth, and she films the way her cheeks hollow with each movement, her throat working to accommodate the toy as she takes it deeper. There’s a mix of concentration and quiet yearning on her face, a desire to show you just how much she’s willing to give, how much this moment means.

Barbara's hands tremble slightly as she adjusts the angle, capturing close-ups of the toy as it slides between her lips. She lingers on the way it glistens, her own spit and slick making it gleam. The camera captures the wet sounds of her mouth working the strap, the quiet hum of pleasure she lets out as she leans in closer, her tongue swirling around the base. It's soft, vulnerable, and undeniably intimate, a tender moment that speaks volumes about her trust and the depth of her feelings.

As she continues, you find yourself mesmerised by her every move, the way her tongue swirls and teases, the way she takes the toy deeper as if trying to reach some unspoken depth of devotion. Watching her is a pleasure in itself, a sensation that doesn’t come from physical touch but from the sheer beauty of seeing Barbara let herself go, giving herself over to this moment, to you.

As Barbara continues to work the strap with her mouth, she shifts the camera’s angle to focus on your face. Her eyes flicker with a quiet intensity, a need to capture this moment—the flush of your cheeks, the way your lips part with a gasp, the way your eyes flutter shut as the heat builds inside you. Even though she’s not physically touching you, the pure sight of her, the knowledge of what she’s doing for you, brings you closer to the edge.

Barbara slowly pulls off the strap, her lips leaving it with a soft pop, and she starts making her way up your body. She trails kisses along your skin, each one deliberate, leaving faint marks as she goes. Her tongue flicks out to soothe the love bites she leaves behind, a trail of tender hickeys that travels up your stomach, across your chest, and along your collarbone.

When she reaches your face, Barbara turns the camera on you one last time, capturing your expression as you come undone, a mix of bliss and vulnerability that she commits to memory with a soft click. She tosses the camera aside, not caring where it lands now, and leans in to kiss you deeply. “I love you too,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice tender and breathless.

Her words sink in, wrapping around your heart as she sighs into the kiss, letting her body melt against yours. The weight of her feels grounding, warm, like a blanket of comfort and devotion. You sink further into the moment, wrapping your arms around her, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing as her chest presses against yours. There’s a quiet understanding in the way she nuzzles into you, in the way she fits so perfectly against your side.

You reach down to pull the strap off, casting it aside without a second thought. It lands somewhere near the foot of the bed, to be dealt with in the morning. For now, the only thing that matters is the soft glow in Barbara's eyes, the quiet hum of her breath against your skin, and the feeling of love settling between the two of you—a love that was there long before this night, but one that has now been spoken aloud, shared in whispered words and quiet sighs.

As the warmth of the moment settles around you both, you feel Barbara’s breathing begin to slow, her body softening and relaxing into yours. She curls up closer, her head resting against your chest, one arm draped lazily across your waist. You can’t help but trace gentle patterns along her back, your fingers following the soft curve of her spine.

Barbara murmurs quietly in her sleep, her body nestling even closer. You draw the covers up over her shoulders, shielding her from the cool night air, and feel the weight of her leg tangle with yours. The calm of the room, the subtle glow of the moonlight casting faint shadows on the walls, creates a peaceful backdrop for the two of you.

With Barbara’s steady breaths against your skin and the warmth of her body pressing into yours, you find yourself drifting too, the sensation of your hand still lightly caressing her side.

It’s as if even in sleep, you can’t stop touching her—can’t help but hold her close, protectively, lovingly. Even in sleep, your touch is instinctive, a tender gesture of affection that doesn’t cease.

The way her body fits against yours feels like home, like a place you could stay in forever.

As sleep pulls you both under, your fingers continue their gentle caress along her skin, even in the deep calm of slumber. Barbara’s soft sigh escapes her lips, her body unconsciously leaning further into you, seeking your warmth. Together, you lie curled up, bodies entwined in a silent promise, as the night carries you into a shared dream.