Read Online Punishment with Kisses by Diane Anderson-Minshall - Free Book Online Page B

Just the thought of Shane’s tongue rolling up and down my body, darting in and out of crevices, demanding to know them, made me feel weak kneed and light headed. I’m pretty sure my legs parted right then and there, but Shane made a point of blindfolding me and laying my arms to the sides of my body instead of using them to cover the pooch on my stomach or my hairy triangle or some other place I would normally try to hide from insecurity.
    “No touching, missy,” Shane said. She began slowly, one finger at a time, using her tongue to trace and then point at a spot between my thumb and forefinger.
    “What’s this one?”
    “My grandmother was pointing with a knife in the kitchen and my hand hit it.”
    “Ew, painful.” She moved on up and down each finger to my wrist to the inside of my elbow, using her tongue to stroke the inside and then the outside. “And this one?” Her query was muffled from sucking on my elbow, a motion that I was finding almost intolerable in its excitement.
    “Uh, I don’t know…” I trailed off moving my hand to her face and trying to push her down.
    “No shortcuts and no hands, I said.” Shane played back with me. She knew how badly I wanted her inside me, on me, down there now, but she was drawing it out. My stomach knotted, desire like a clenched fist in my gut.
    “What’s this one?” she demanded again.
    “Oh God, c’mon! Bobby Jenson pushed me off my bike in fourth grade.” All the blood in my body had rushed to my cunt, which was now so wet I could barely keep my legs together without matting. “Move!”
    Shane was controlled though, surely enjoying this little game. She moved from the elbow to my shoulder, under my arm and on to my neck. Finding no birthmarks or blemishes of any sort, Shane bit my neck slightly, in a sort of modified hickey. It left me speechless. I moved my own hand down to my crotch. I couldn’t wait anymore. I would please myself if I had to.
    But Shane caught me and pinned the wayward hand down with hers. She grabbed my other hand and when I couldn’t bear it anymore she pinned it too, now using just her mouth to lick and nibble every single inch of my body from head to toe. The questions had ceased on her end, but the curiosity was still there, I could tell. When she flipped me over onto my belly I considered dry humping the bed, except, well, it could hardly be called dry humping with the state of delirium I was in.
    “Shane, please.” I was beyond begging. Her tongue had hit every trigger point, every erogenous zone on my body except the big one, and I wasn’t sure I could handle any more stimulation.
    “Yes, dear,” Shane whispered in my ear.
    “Please do it. I need you. Now.”
    Before I could beg anymore, Shane forced my legs apart and from behind rammed her tongue in my cunt. She thrust it forcefully in and out of me, flicking along my clit with each new shove. As greedy and demanding as her tongue seemed, it propelled me to orgasm within minutes. But Shane wasn’t ready to stop there.
    As I lay spent on my bed, hoping to God nobody heard me shriek when I came, Shane shuffled about the room and came back with a purple marbled dildo that looked alarmingly like a boomerang. I wasn’t sure what we would do with it, but I didn’t want her to be aware of my naivety.
    “Wait, let’s rest a minute,” I stalled.
    “Shhh, trust me.”
    And so I did, lying back again while Shane gently moved one end of the lubed-up contraption inside me and placed the smaller end inside herself. She began rocking back and forth, her hips jutting out at me at random angles, our pubic hair soon matted and entwined like a natty old wig. I quickly learned that Shane could wield this double-headed dildo as surely as my college fling, Terra Moscowitz, strapped hers on. And with this I saw the desire and pleasure inside Shane as every time I pushed back, the toy throbbed inside of her. I could tease her now. I could hold back, slow down, then speed up, using my