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Anticipation

Senataion, tittilation and anticipation in the bedroom.
She'd been there for hours, it seemed. Lying on her back, spread-eagled, wrists and ankles secured to bed posts, blindfolded and isolated.

She could hear him rustling around - initially, she'd though he had tied her up and left, but he was there, he would never put her in danger that way.

She could smell the musty odor of him - aftershave splashed on hurriedly before the sun crawled above the horizon, the sweat and must of a day spent pent up in an office, a faint hint of expensive Scotch. She loved his smell.

Lightly, she felt his return to her - to his attention of her, and to his delicious torture of her.

Pinpricks - she recognized the wheel immediately. He began at the base of her throat, sloooooooowly rolling down the valley between her breasts, cutting under the left, leaving traces of fire flashing through her body, her skin flushed, her breath immediately short.

He rolled the tiny teeth down her left flank - saying nothing, just giving her the sensation. She gasped as it began crawling across the top of her thigh toward the sopping wet heat of her womanhood. Would he? DARE he?

"YES!" she almost screamed as the pinwheel rolled across her clit - not breaking the tender skin, but certainly providing an overwhelming and utterly delicious sensation shooting through her entire body. He dwelt there, on her clit, labia, even rolling down toward but not quite reaching her anus - teasing her, driving her increasingly mad.

Suddenly, he stopped.

And "disappeared" again.

Nothing. For moments. Hours. DAYS.

She knew better than to say anything. He'd punish her rather than titillating her - he'd hurt rather than reward. She couldn't say anything.

She couldn't hear him, though, and as her flush faded, as her skin cooled and she began to come back to herself, she wondered what his next delicious torture would be.

She waited. Heart rate slowing. Breath becoming even. And still, nothing.

Without any warning but the brush of air preceding the blow, it came. From nowhere - the sharp sting of his favorite flogger. Hard rubber falls with sharp tips. Stinging, stinging across her thighs - the right side this time. How had he moved over there wothou - THWACK!!! His second blow cut her thoughts in half.

She began to moan in rhythm with the blows as he delivered strike after strike, thigh, belly, thigh, shin, thigh ...

He worked up her right side, then down the left, covering every inch of her now quivering flesh.

And again, just as she began to lose all sense of time and place, he stopped.

Nothing. Her breaths, still short, all that permeated the silence of the room.

This time, he didn't wait an age. He began just before her breath had slowed to normal. The big suede flogger this time. She knew it's kiss well and he skillfully began to work her breasts over with it, tips just grazing her nipples as the falls whistled through the air.

She arched her back in anticipation of each blow - sighing, crying out, screaming, moaning. He beat her mercilessly, over and over the flogger brushed her, kissing her flesh, the valley between her breasts, her nipples. This time the flogging seemed to last forever, rather than the space between. She was flying, she was lost, she was here and not here, she was feeling the entire length of her body throb in rhythm with her racing heart and his strong swift blows.

And then, nothing. Again. She was still floating - he'd succeeded in putting her there, but where did he go?

Her answer came fairly quickly again, as she was suddenly enveloped in his rich, deep scent - she could feel that he was on all fours above her, although he still hadn't touched her with his hands, or any other part of his body.

He waited, his breath mingling with hers, her womanhood becoming more and more wet as she awaited the first thrust of his cock.

And then she exploded with her first orgasm of the evening as he thrust into her suddenly, screaming again in ecstasy. As he thrust, she came, over and over and over, her body wrought with massive waves of sensation pounding in the very core of her being.

He thrust. She exploded. Over, and over.

And then nothing. Again.

Then she smelled her sex close, mingled with the sweet scent of him. He'd climbed off the bed, deciding to reward her obedience with his cock in her mouth. She loved sucking him and eagerly tilted her head back for him, moistening her lips and opening wide.

It didn't take long - he'd actually ridden her for at least ten minutes, wringing every orgasm she was capable of producing from her body, and he came, filling her mouth with the deliciousness of him.

And then ..... nothing.

And the wheel began again.
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