For as much as waterboy can’t get a word out, he will be scream crying as you abuse his prostate with your fingers. Completely wordless, thrashing under you, legs shaking and squeezing your arm, hands trying to pull you on top of him. He’s so reactive, and he doesn’t get less so with experience.
No, the poofy, frilly dress isn’t that long, even if it wasn’t on someone pushing six and a half feet. However, it was the only size that would work without literally falling off of Herman, and honestly you’re thankful for that when he walks out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. It was his idea, but you’re loving it. You can still see the black edges of his boxer briefs peeking out under the dress at the tops of his thighs.
“You didn’t wanna wear the panties?” You hum, looking at the pink, bunched up fabric in his hand. His face is bright, bright red, and he can only shake his head in response. “That’s okay, princess. Come here.”
His whole body gives a little twitch at the pet name. You’re sat at the edge of the bed, and he walks over to you on unsteady feet. You can already see the thin material of the dress’ bodice growing damp, clinging to his skin. When he’s up close to you, your face is in line with his navel.
“So pretty.” You purr. Your hands start at his thighs, and slide up under the dress, over his underwear. He squeaks, back straightening. “I can’t even tell if you’re hard under all this.” the petticoat under the dress does an impressive job of hiding the bulge that you know is there.
“M-M-Mas- Master-” He whimpers, his whole body trembling like a frightened animal. He’s so painfully aroused, his cock twitching, completely neglected. He’s so desperate for you, your touch, your command.
“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” You remove one hand from under the dress, and trail it down his chest, ghosting over one of his nipples.
“You want to get off?” You spread your legs a little, and pat one of your thighs. “You can ride my thigh to do it. Can’t you, princess?”
