pressing up against the curve of the float, desperate for more pressure, more friction.
But the float wouldn’t give it.
It bounced. It teased. It kept her suspended and frustrated.
That was the kink.
Pinned in place, suctioned in sweat and lube, breathing through her regulator like a toy on display. The domme wrapped her in vinyl floaties—her arms tucked into shiny sleeves, her legs locked into inflatable cuffs. She was fully encased in wetness and heat.
A human pool toy.
Then came the teasing.
The domme pressed her gloved fingers into the girl’s bikini bottoms—not inside, just against. The pressure made her buck, float creaking beneath her. She whimpered through the regulator. Each breath sounded louder, deeper, hungrier.
Gloved hands tugged at the ties of her top. The bikini slid off her breasts, nipples instantly exposed to the humid night air. Another warm pour of water made them shine. The domme leaned down, kissed one slowly through her dive hood. The rubber squeaked faintly against the wet flesh.
“I could pop you,” she whispered, licking a bead of sweat from her navel. “But you’re not full enough yet.”
The float was barely holding her now—she shifted and rocked in slippery bliss, tension growing in her thighs. Every time she tried to thrust, the vinyl sucked her back down. She was melting, flushed, needy, floaty-headed and full of air.
“Use me,” she gasped around the regulator. “Make me stay wet.” She pressed it down over the girl’s body, pinning her tighter between two layers of glossy plastic.