Watching

I stand before you, your one hand resting lightly on my throat while the other hand gently traces my face, your thumb softly brushing my lips. I watch your face as your hands move over my body and shudder as I see myself through your eyes. I love the way you touch me, the way you hold me, your strength, your guidance.

You spin me around standing me in front of the mirror, your hand still gripping my throat as you stand behind me. I look at myself standing there naked, you behind me fully clothed, the collar around my neck under your hand, and watch as you slowly move your hands over every square inch of my body. Your movements are slow and torturous. There is no rush, no hurry, except for in my head which is urging you on, wanting more, wanting you to take me to fulfillment.

I watch as my eyes turn from clear to glassy with desire, my legs start to shake, and quiver, my breath comes faster causing my breasts to rise and fall in rhythm. I have watched as you teased my nipples to hard peaks, now they are straining forward begging for your attention. I can see the slick wetness glistening between my legs needing your attention.

I’m not sure which I like more, when you are gentle, slow and deliberate or when you are strong, demanding, and harsh. Each has its own unique challenges and rewards. I try to think of other things but somehow you know when my mind wanders and bring it quickly back to the present with a gentle flick of my nipple, a slow circle around my clit or your hand around my neck tightening ever so slightly.

I stand there like this for what seems like hours but is most likely only minutes, my body shaking and quivering, my knees wanting to give out. “Please” I beg, “please Master, I need to come.” Your eyes lock with mine in the mirror. “Keep your eyes open and watch yourself” you whisper to me. I hate watching myself come, I feel so self conscious but I do as I’m told. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, to keep them trained on my face as you move your hand between my legs. I want to watch you, watch your hands, your face but I know if I do you will stop. So I keep watching myself, my eyes locked with the image in the mirror.

I feel the pressure mounting inside me, I want to move but your hand on my throat tightens warning me to stay still. I moan, and my eyes start to slide shut, as your grip on my throat tightens again warning me to keep my eyes open and locked with my eyes in the mirror. I gaze through half open slits at the girl in the mirror and know she is on the edge. You lean down and whisper to me to “come now” and my back arches as I push my pelvis forward into your hand, and I lean my body back into yours.

My mouth opens and a low gasping moan escapes my lips. I blink several times trying my hardest to keep my eyes open, watching the girl in the mirror buck and groan. For a moment I forget it is me, fascinated by the sight of the woman having an orgasm before me. When my brain returns to reality, I blush and try to look away but you hold me steady and whisper to me “You’re beautiful and sexy there is nothing to be embarrassed about.” You hold me there a few minutes more then turn me around and wrap me in your arms. I hide my face in your shoulder, embarrassed and tired. You walk me to the bed and hold me until I drift off to sleep.