overhead. But that was that. So, he was playing the “make her wait and
worry” game, was he?
She let
her breathing slow, relaxed her shoulders and her legs, made her arms go limp
and waited still more.
It came up
her left side, a soft caress from her thigh to her armpit and back down, but
not before he’d tried very hard to see how ticklish she was. Good thing she was
so relaxed.
It was one
of the suede floggers. Had to be. Nothing else gave
that gentle but insistent caress. Or the same nasty sting. But seemed, for now at least, John was into teasing caresses. Ellen was more
than content to lie back and feel the stroke of warm suede on naked flesh. It
was wonderful, maddening and arousing like the dickens.
Her clit
throbbed, a sweet, insistent rhythm that had her anticipating more. Her pussy
ran, no doubt making her own particular wet spot. Had this table been used for
other such rites, other pleasures? Not that she cared. Past users were welcome
to their fun, all that mattered right now was John and
what he was doing to her with that flogger.
It came
everywhere, up the side of her body, in slow figure eights around her breasts,
across her shoulders and down her arms, along the sides of her legs and in
sudden little flicks on her thighs. Keeping still was getting to be hard.
Was he
waiting for her to move to start flogging in earnest? He couldn’t get to her
back or arse but her thighs and arms were perfectly
available.
As was her
pussy.
Seemed
every third or fourth pass of the flogger reached across her pussy lips or
between them. He was intent on keeping her on the edge. Right
on the edge. Once or twice she called out their warning that she was
close to coming and he’d back off, keeping the flogger on her legs or arms, but
then he’d be back, pulling her need to a peak before leaving her there.
Damn him!
But it was all so wonderful.
Ellen gave
up thought, quit wondering where he’d touch next, just let her mind sink into the sensations and her body’s heightened sensitivity.
John was
bloody fantastic. She wanted to spend the rest of her life here, under the sky,
as he played her body. Much as she longed for a resounding climax, this was
equally stupendous. She was caught here, suspended in the edge of orgasm, lost
in her body and its needs and the attentions of the man she loved.
A gasp!
He’d slapped the fogger against the outside of her thigh. It hadn’t exactly
hurt, but the sudden change in tempo startled her. As the slow slaps continued
up and down and on top of her thighs, she slipped back into the rhythm and
sensations of her body.
Smiled to herself as her mind and consciousness fed off the
stimulation.
She was
lost in a wild swirl of sensation, pleasure and the wild joy of submission. She
let out a slow, long sigh as sweet ripples of pleasure glided over her skin
then she was gone—flying, shooting like a comet across the heavens, lights
swirled in the darkness, flashes of green and blue and yellow crossed her line
of vision. She smelled roses, violets, lavender, the
warmth and sweetness of a summer garden enveloped her as she shot through the
lights and kept going. Farther and deeper into the vision she went as her body
flooded to overflowing with sensation.
John saw
the change in her almost at once. He’d been watching intently. Hoping against
hope he could give her this. She was limp, a smile on
her face, and when the tresses of the flogger touched her clit, there was no
response.
Dear
heaven! She was flying.
Gingerly
he eased off the blindfold. She showed no response to the light. Sure proof she
was in submissive nirvana. Moving slowly and carefully, he gave more slack to
her restraints, unbuckled one ankle cuff then the other and gently released the
clamps from her taut nipples.
He wanted
to kiss her, hold her close, promise her the world and his heart, but best let
her fly whilst she could, she’d come back to him soon enough.
He loosed
her manacles and then grabbed a blanket
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