For a moment she stopped, I waited, almost unable to breathe with the sexual tension. When the hands returned to their work I could feel that she had ...urned her rings around and now the diamonds were scratching and bruising my tender flesh. The pleasure was balanced by pain, the sensuality by discomfort. “Is that better my little fuck-slut.” I heard her giggle as I struggled to be free of this craving, this need for pleasure as I thrust into her hands, my hips betraying my need to come at any. . for him. She glanced down a bit when he started describing the dinner and he stopped. "What's wrong, my little sweet one? You may speak freely." "It's just... in front of all those people... I know there was the auction but..." she felt flustered and silly now. "But you were blindfolded then. I know, my little sweet one. And we'll work up to it. I've asked a friend to visit us for lunch so you can get a bit more comfortable with it. How does that sound, my little sweet one?" Was he really. More

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