“One more,” he says.
I nod, eyes closed, even though I know it is not a question.
“Look at me,” he says, very softly but with that tone that makes the difference between an invitation and a command.
I open my eyes, blinking at the light from the window behind him. He is kneeling on the floor, between my widely spread legs. I focus on him but from the corners of my eyes I can see the ropes tied to my ankles and secured to either end of the bed.
He holds up a pencil, unsharpened. I nod yes, craving this, needing this, wanting this. With his other hand, he clicks open a tube of lube and spreads a thin line of the stuff along the pencil’s yellow length. He rubs it all over the pencil and I shiver a little, watching intently.
He has noticed the shivers, the tensing of my legs in anticipation of his next action.
“You are such a good girl, ” he says, and points the pencil towards my mound. I can feel the erasered tip moving my inner lips apart, pushing the hood up, and then gently moving against my hard erect clit. I moan, trying to remain still, wishing he would let me cum. “I’m very proud of you, my little one.”
The eraser moves away from my tormented clit. I sigh a little, missing the touch.
And then I feel him gently slide the pencil in. In the middle of all the others. Gently stretching my pussy a tiny little bit more.
“Mmmmmmmm,yes,” I whisper to him, loving the fullness down there.
How many were there? How many filled me already?
I moan again as he alternates blowing hot and cool breaths towards my clit. He said I was not to come. But he was making it so difficult, so damned difficult. I can feel the frisson rising higher and higher, heading to the forbidden explosion.
And then he stops.
“One more, ” he says.
