Mewing Madness: The Licked Throat's Hidden Hunger

He leans in, his breath hot on her ear, his voice a low growl, 'Let me hear you mew.' She complies, a soft, wet sound escaping her lips, a sound that's part pleasure, part pain. His hand finds her thigh, squeezing, moving upward, pushing her dress higher. She gasps, her mewing becoming louder, more insistent. He grins, his fingers finding the edge of her panties, tracing the damp fabric. She squirms, her mewing now a desperate plea, a plea for him to touch her, to lick her, to make her come undone with his tongue.

• meo

• Unknown