Tap and Glide Tease

Watch my long, sharp nails tap a slow, maddening rhythm against the glass, each click sending a shiver straight down your spine and deeper into your weak mind. I glide them across the surface, around my pale throat, down my burgundy lips, tracing patterns that your eyes follow without thought, without will, without resistance. The tempo shifts, accelerates, syncs with your stroking until you edge on command, lost in the trance of my tapping, my gliding, my absolute control.