Sarah was awake when I opened my eyes. It was New Year’s Day. It had stopped snowing, the sun was shining, and it was cold.

“Why are you always hard?" Sarah wanted to know, sounding a little displeased.

“I don’t have any control over it,” I responded.

“You poked me with that thing all night.”

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“Sore,” she indicated. “But it’s a good sore.”

“Sore in one or two places or sore all over?” I inquired, concerned that I had hurt her the night before.

“All over,” she indicated.

“I loved playing the game,” she continued, “and you gave me the best fucking I’ve ever had. But let’s agree not to play that game again for a while. It was an interesting experience and very intense, especially the teasing. But it left me really sore.”

“What about you?” she asked. “You really came. That was the most cum I’ve ever seen. You must have shot one stream of cum at least four feet in the air.”

“I’m okay,” I told her. “My arms and wrists are a little sore. The muscles in my back and shoulders ache a little. But I’m okay.”

“That teasing orgasm you gave me was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced,” I told her. “It was certainly the longest. I didn’t stop cumming for several minutes.”

We kissed, confirming our agreement that “Sarah’s Game” would only be played every once in a while.

Just to be clear, I had thoroughly enjoyed the game, teasing Sarah, and being teased.

There was also a foreplay aspect to it. As we picked and read each piece of folded paper, our expectations of what was to come added to our excitement and pleasure.

The sex that night was fantastic. It was likely the best that either of us had ever experienced. At least that was true for me.

But the experience was also intense and exhausting. It was even scary at times, as each of us had the opportunity to completely control and tease the other.

Sarah was right. “Sarah’s Game” was not something that should be played every day, or even every week or month. It was a game that should be saved for very special occasions.

I pulled Sarah close intending to kiss her again. My still hard shaft poked her in the stomach.

“See?” she said, pushing my cock away with her hand.

“Well, there is a way you can make it go away,” I informed her with a little smile.

“Not now. Even my hands are sore. I’d rather make us coffee.”

Sarah put on her robe and stepped out into the kitchen. As I watched her leave the room I realized that she still had my old silk ties knotted around her ankles. I had cut her legs loose following her last orgasm. We had taken a shower together. I had dried her off. Yet, I had not removed the knotted silk ties around her ankles.

I put on my shirt and pants and joined Sarah in the kitchen.

“I need to cut those ties off your ankles,” I whispered as I walked up behind her and put my hands on her hips.

Sarah looked down at her feet, never realizing that the ties were still around her ankles, and laughed.

A few snips with the scissors and she was free.

Coffee was made, and we looked into the living room to view the consequences of our New Year’s Eve celebration.

The living room in the area of the blanket was a mess. The couch had been moved about three or four feet out from the wall; the blanket was wet with cum and her juices; and there were toys, scarves, dish towels, restraints, pieces of my silk ties and folded pieces of blue and yellow paper all over the blanket and floor.

Our housemates had not wanted to travel while it was snowing. Now that the sun was shining, however, we didn’t know when they would be back.

Coffee was essential. Cleaning would be our first task.

I shoved the couch back where it belonged. Sarah picked up the toys.

After Sarah separated the toys into hers and mine, she tossed the feather, scarves, dish towels and tie remnants into a plastic garbage bag.

I picked up all the pieces of “wish and desire” paper and folded up the blanket.

The blanket obviously needed to be professionally cleaned.

The blanket and the plastic garbage bag of “used” toys, scarves, dish towels and tie materials were put into the trunk of my car for safe keeping. We certainly didn’t want our housemates to see them.

The pieces of folded paper that we had opened the night before, and the unused folded paper which had remained in the bowl were put back together for future use. All of it was put into an envelope and placed in a bureau draw in Sarah’s room.

After cleaning up the living room, Sarah and I sat down at the kitchen table for a second cup of coffee.

The week off from school was over, and what a week it had been. Sarah had taught me more about sex in the last week, than I could have learned in years of dating, reading books or watching porn.

Words simply could not describe the sex we had experienced together. It was intense and passionate; it was deep and profound; it was satisfying and pleasurable; it was uninhibited and wild; it was warm and gentle; it was rough and physical. It was all of that and more.

In that one week, Sarah and I had shifted from being “body-buddies” with no emotional ties, to friends who had developed feelings for and cared about each other. The sex was still physical and pleasurable. Now there was an emotional, caring side to it as well.

As we sat and sipped our coffee and talked about “us”, the reality of school and living with two other people began to set back in.

Sarah was adamant that nothing was to be said to either Dave or Julie about the happenings of the week; there would be no sex while Dave and/or Julie were in the house; and, while it may be difficult for both of us, sex would have to wait for the weekends when we could be alone.

I went out that afternoon to buy some food to re-stock the kitchen. Sarah took a hot bath and retreated to her room to draw and read.

I returned home in the late afternoon. Since we had not heard from Dave and Julie regarding their travel plans, Sarah and I decided to go to a restaurant further up the coast for dinner.

When we returned, Dave and Julie had arrived back home. They had brought food and several bottles of wine, all left over from their New Year’s celebrations.

We gathered in the living room and talked about the week off. The three of them drank wine; I had a few beers.

We all went to bed about the same time. School for each of us would start the next day.

The same weekly routine we had experienced earlier in the school year set in quickly after the holiday.

I only saw Sarah at the house three times that first week. To make matters worse, it snowed heavily again that first Friday, causing Dave and Julie to stay at the house for the weekend, rather than risk a drive home.

The second week was no different, each of us into our school work, with few opportunities to socialize.

Adding to my sexual frustration, Dave had developed a bad cold and so he and Julie stayed at the house for the second weekend in a row.

Having had sex almost every day and night for a week, and then to be shut off completely for almost three weeks, was both frustrating and difficult. All Sarah and I could do was share quick looks and glances, suggesting what we both wanted, but could not yet have.

Sometime near the end of January, as I was just falling asleep, my bedroom door opened and Sarah snuck into my bed.

“I’m sorry," she said, “but I’m just getting my period, I’m horny, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I really need some attention.”

My room was cold, and, of course, it was directly next to Dave and Julie’s room, so I suggested we go downstairs to Sarah’s room, which was always warmer.

But, as Sarah pointed out, it was warm under my bed covers; she had brought a small towel to place in her mouth, anticipating that she might make some noise; and she was concerned that Dave and/or Julie would hear us both going down the stairs to her room.

In any case, Sarah’s room was right under Dave and Julie’s room. If sounds of pleasure were to be heard, it was just as likely that they would be heard from Sarah’s room as from my room.

We stayed under my warm bed covers.

Sarah’s physical soreness had long since gone away. But her on-coming period had caused her nipples and breasts to become sensitive. Soft sucking and licking was okay, but no rough nipple play or hard squeezing would be tolerated that night.

Sarah, who had taken off her robe and wore nothing underneath, urged me to slowly and softly play with her clitoris only; no fingers were to be inserted, and no penetration.

She would cum quickly, she told me, and probably more than once.

I did as asked, sucked on a nipple and slowly ran my fingers over her stomach, her tuft of pussy hair, and around and over her clit.

Sarah was definitely horny, turned on, and very needy.

Her clit was very sensitive to my touch, which provoked both pain and pleasure.

At first we kissed and tongue wrestled. Sarah slowly shifted from kissing to moaning as we played and our passion increased. Finally, there was a need to have the towel she had brought placed firmly in her mouth, muffling, as best she could, the sounds of pleasure she was making.

Sarah desperately wanted cum. She did not want to be teased.

There is a time and place for teasing and making Sarah beg to cum, and this was not it.

This was more down and dirty sex time. This was concentrated, intense clitoral play with a woman who had experienced no sexual release for almost three weeks, who was super horny, and who needed to cum, maybe even two or three times, as she was beginning her period.

It did not take long. I sucked on one of Sarah’s hard nipples and flicked my tongue over it, while I ran my wet fingers around the sides of and over her clit.

Sarah bit down hard on the towel, she moaned almost continuously, and her eyes grew wide, signaling to me that she was about to explode.

Unless Dave and/or Julie were in a deep sleep, they had to have heard Sarah cum.

Despite the towel in her mouth, Sarah made noises that could be heard throughout the house. The bed shook and the springs squeaked as Sarah’s body jerked up and down on the mattress and as she grunted and moaned through her lengthy orgasm.

The towel fell from Sarah’s mouth, and she placed her head on my chest as she tried to catch her breath.

“Thank you!” she said when she could finally put two coherent words together.

“Do you want to cum again?” I asked, knowing that Sarah could usually cum several times, but unsure of just how sensitive she was.

“Give me a minute,” she responded.

For several minutes we lay there, our bodies intertwined. I softly played with her breasts and nipples, and we exchanged soft, little kisses.

When I thought she might be ready for more, I spread her legs and ran a finger up along her wet slit. Sarah moaned. She reached down and took my hand and positioned my finger on her clit.

“If you want to make me cum again, just do this,” she instructed, as she moved my finger over her swollen clit.

I was a little more aggressive this time, as she seemed to be able to tolerate more direct contact with her love nub. 

I sucked on her nipple and flicked my wet finger over the exposed head of her clit. I knew she was getting close when she reached for the towel and put it back in her mouth. I twirled her clit around between my fingers and thumb, rubbing it, pulling on it, flicking it with my fingers.

I played with her, knowing that I could keep her on the edge for a while.

I took my time and slowly moved my fingers over her clit, stopping at times just to run a wet finger directly on its exposed, sensitive head. I could feel the pressure, intensity and pleasure building in her body.

She moaned through the towel and her body twitched and jerked.

With her eyes opened wide, Sarah produced a long, low moan and a little nod of her head, a signal that she was getting ready to cum.

I twirled her clit between my wet fingers, gradually putting more pressure on it as it poked out from under its little hood. Sarah held onto me tightly, digging her fingers into my arms and shoulders. I loved the look in her eyes, silently begging me to rub her clit harder and faster.

And I loved the sounds she made, as the tension in her body was building once again.

She arched her back and her body stiffened as the release she needed and spasms of pleasure began to overtake her body and mind.

Her eyes were stretched wide open, almost with a look of fear. The sounds and noises she was making came quickly. They were more rapid, muffled sounds than a long, continuous moan.

This time, when her orgasm overtook her body, she screamed and the towel fell out of her mouth.

I put my hand over her mouth to muffle the noises until Sarah began to relax, letting her limp body fall down partly on mine.

She lay partly on my chest as she enjoyed the aftermath of pleasure that had swept through her body.

Sarah’s hand was already on my hard manhood, as she recovered from her orgasm.

Nothing was said.

She moved down under the covers, and I felt her warm, wet mouth encircle the head of my cock. She stroked me with her hand as she sucked on the head, bringing me to the edge within a few minutes. 

Despite the cold room, I threw the covers off both of us so I could watch her work her mouth and tongue on my cock.

“Cum in my mouth,” she whispered, looking up at me with almost a pleading expression.

She handed me the towel and put her mouth back over the swollen head. I put the towel in my mouth and anticipated the wonderful moment of release that I needed and was about to experience.

She sucked on the head of my manhood, ran her tongue along the sides of my hard shaft, and stroked my cock with both hands. Pre-cum oozed out and ran down the shaft, making my cock slippery in her hands.

Again, there was no teasing involved. Sarah was doing her best to make me cum and to do it quickly.

Like Sarah, I did not last long.

I arched my back. I pushed my head against the headboard. I plunged my cock deep into Sarah’s mouth. Sarah sucked hard on the head of my shaft.

My release consumed me, and I unloaded all of my milky-white cum in four or five powerful spurts. Each spurt struck the back of Sarah’s throat.

Sarah somehow took it all, swallowed, and kept on milking my shaft to get every last drop of cum.

Despite my having cum in her mouth, and while my body still shook with pleasure, I pulled Sarah up to me and kissed her hard, burying my tongue in her mouth. We kissed for several minutes, swapping a mixture of saliva and cum.

I finally slumped back onto the bed, with one arm still around Sarah.

Nothing was said.

With her head on my chest, one leg swung over my body, and her hand still surrounding my soft shaft, we drifted off to sleep.

Sometime around 6:30 a.m., Sarah silently slipped out of my bed and returned to her room.

As we moved into February, I was alone in the house for the first weekend, as Dave and Julie had gone home and Sarah had gone to visit her mother.

Before leaving, however, Sarah had slipped a brown envelope under my bedroom door. In it were all of the pussy, ass, cock and nipples pictures she and I had taken on New Year’s Eve, as well as some pictures she had taken of Trish which were on one of the rolls of film we had used.

After viewing each picture closely, I put them back into the envelope and placed the envelope inside one of my book bags for safe keeping and future viewing.

Finally, there was an upcoming long weekend when Sarah and I would be alone in the house.

The anticipation of that long weekend was killing me. During classes, while reading or driving, each time I saw Sarah, it was all I could think about.

I hoped that Sarah wanted me as much as I wanted her.