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Pegging / Dirty Talk
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His voice was everything. It got her through the days.
She loved to hear him talk. It soothed her, calmed her, turned her on.
She never knew something as simple as a voice could make her wet but when she had met him that had all changed. Her dreams were often about his voice, whispering in her ear, screaming as he came inside her, asking her to marry him.
It was deep but quiet, he never spoke loudly but was always heard. He had this air of authority about him; when he spoke, you listened. Even if what he was saying wasn't important - he made it important.
She was sure he could command armies with just his voice alone, lulling them into doing his bidding as he sat on a throne.
His voice could be used as a weapon of mass destruction.
But not for her.
For her, it was something else.
It was her comfort blanket and her dildo all rolled into one. When she was stressed she thought of his voice. The calming syllables washing over her as the stress left her body, leaving her relaxed and her underwear damp.
On nights when she couldn't sleep, she'd place her fingers between her legs and imagine him spewing filthy words into her ear; asking her if she liked his cock, enjoyed the sound of his balls slapping against her. Oh, the things he'd say!
Her eyes would close and her fingers would work harder, her thumb pressing into her clit and her other fingers stretching her hole, saturating her panties in the process. Her free fingers would pinch and pull at her nipples, rolling the pink buds between her pads as her back arched off the bed and her thoughts became incoherent.
His voice would grow louder in her head until she came in a hot fire, cum gushing over her fingers and nipples burning from the pressure she was applying.
As she came down, she heard his voice in her head.
"Good girl."