The crack it makes as I snap he ends together. The way you flinch with anticipation and apprehension at the sound. The soft, unblemished skin that has yet to feel its kiss.
The whistle in the air as it swings on its path. The way you tense as you wait for its contact. The mounting yearning for its stinging caress.
The drawn out moment as you wait to feel it. The unbearable slowness of the passage of time. The movement of the air as it approaches.
The resounding smack as it bites your skin. The mix of pain and pleasure as you cry out at its touch. The deepening crimson glow that marks its path.
The increasing heat and pain with every stroke. The intense arousal each kiss ignites. The relief that comes from knowing you’ve endured the final lash.