With a deep throaty moan she tried to throw her head back but I stopped her. I kept her looking ahead, a gentle whisper caressing her ear and demanding she open her eyes. Forcing her to drink in the figure squirming futilely in front of her. See the skin tinged with rose standing out in stark contrast to black silk wrapped beneath glistening breasts and around spread knees to a plain chair. The gleaming sex; open, inviting, trembling with need. Make her look at the hips forlornly lunging at the vibrator already slick with lust but held out of reach. Mostly however I want her to see the eyes alight with wanton desire, eyes that want nothing more than for me to shove that vibe back in, and recognize them as her own.
In the mirror I smile as her lips part. Before she can speak I give an eighth twist of the handle and the stocking coiled around her neck chokes off the words. There is no sign of the worry, the gnawing concern, I feel on my face. Only an indulgent amusement as the vibe taps a light tattoo along her thigh. Loosening my hold I permit her a sharp gasp as a flick passes the toy across her burning sex. Then with glacial patience I tighten the stocking as begin to trace her lips. Pushing firmly into her folds as her throat closes. Cutting into her neck as the toy slides fully into her. Loosening only long enough for her to fill her lungs. Snapping shut as I run my calloused palm over her clit during a deep thrust.
All the while she watches herself. Rushing headlong towards an edge. Not knowing what the edge is. Not caring. Lungs burning. Insides stirred by expert twists that touch all her favorite spots. It was never in doubt she'd fling herself over the edge. Yet she never expected to see a look of such ecstasy as she lets out a final strangled scream, convulsing and straining against unyielding cord. Stars exploding across her vision, sparkling into darkness.