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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen Becker o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
The Bet (MF, bd)
by John Carter (c) 1990
*****
Her arms were tied to the corner posts of the bed. At
the moment they were just restrained. There was no pressure
unless she tried to pull away. The teri-cloth belt from each of
their robes held her in place more firmly than she would have
imagined.
Her feet were bound to something that kept her knees
apart, wide apart. She wasn't sure what it was, but a broom
stick was her current guess. The blindfold left her no clue that
didn't come in from another sense. It was quite effective.
Somehow the stick held her feet not only apart, but down.
She couldn't tell how it did that. Was it tied to the bottom of
the bed? Mike had blindfolded her before doing anything else so
she wouldn't know what was going on.
The bet seemed serious now. It was still fun, but there
was an edge of determination and a small one of fear. What would
he do to get her to give him the combination?
The chest at the foot of the bed was sealed with a
combination padlock. She had bought it this morning and hidden
the combination under the silverware divider in the drawer in the
kitchen. The numbers swam in her head: Five-fourteen-nine.
Would she be able to keep the combination secret until midnight?
The thought of that filled her with the oddest series of
sensations.
She was naked, of course. He was allowed to do anything
that didn't leave a mark, with the understanding that whatever he
did couldn't have as it's basic purpose causing pain. He could
swat her ass, but only as part of something else, not to cause
her to tell because of the pain.
Or as he'd put it, "I can make you come so much that
you'll do anything to get me to stop."
Her eyebrows had gone straight up at that. It was an
extremely rare event for her to tire out before any boy she had
ever slept with had run out steam. She was almost always ready
for more. The only times she could remember not wanting to
continue had been in the extremely early morning after a very
full day. Today she was rested. She'd slept late. She
expected to enjoy this and then to win the bet.
Put simply, the loser would have his or her pubic hair
removed as the penalty for losing.
She couldn't help grinning as she thought of him on his
back, legs spread, with foam over his crotch as she said, "Let's
be very still. We don't want any accidents down here, do we?"
The idea of shaving his scrotum especially appealed to her.
Something cold hit her left breast. It was only a drop
of water, but being blindfolded she had no warning of it's
approach. It felt much more shocking and ... sort of painful
because of the surprize.
A second drop hit her on the other side of her breast. A
second later a very cold drop hit her nipple. She could feel it
harden as the water slowly ran off.
She heard a small sound near her night table. (The ice
cube being put in a glass?)
Mike's mouth fastened on her left nipple. Again it was
unexpected. This had an effect too. Mike was very good at this
and knew how sensitive her breasts were. She could feel the
familiar desire for him to go on building in her stomach.
It had been 5:30 when he had started blindfolding her.
Holding out till midnight might be fun.
A small moan escaped her lips as his hand lightly pinched
her right nipple.
His hands continued to tease her breasts. Each contact
came as a surprise because fo the blindfold. The warmth in her
stomach kept moving lower. Two things were happening. Her mound
was crying out to be touched and, even without a touch, she could
feel an orgasm building.
She wanted to cause some friction on her sex. Her feet
were tied apart so well that this was impossible. Without a
thought on her part, her hips began to move. He seemed to know
how close she was. He would slow down or remove his hands
whenever her orgasm began to approach too quickly. She loved the
delicious tension of it.
He placed the flat of his hand on her stomach just below
the ribs. Spreading his hand out as far as he could he slowly
began to move down her abdomen. His hand had not even reached
her pubes when she began to come. She was fairly quiet, but she
knew it was obvious to him what had happened.
All contact ceased. She spent a moment waiting for him
to begin again. The cold drop of water fell on the edge of her
slit. For the next few seconds all of her senses were
concentrated on her sex. The second and third drops accentuated
it.
He began rubbing her stomach, his hand coming dangerously
close to her sex, but never actually doing more than brushing the
top of her pubic hair. Again she felt her hips begin to move.
She had expected that it would be easier to hide what he
was happening to her body because of what he was doing to her.
Her body was betraying her again. When his hands began to rub
the inside of her thighs, she began to moan again. He kept
approaching her sex, but not quite touching it.
He shifted position, she could feel the bed depress
beneath her. He was between her legs. She felt his hands
sliding up and down her thighs. He was rubbing, firmly but
gently, the inside of her thighs, beginning at the knees. His
hands massaged the muscles beginning just inside her knee,
progressing slowly up her thigh.
When he began, his hands barely went half way up her
thigh. She was amazed at how much this focused her attention on
her sex. Each time his hands came a half inch closer, she was
terribly aware of the closer intrusion. She tried pulling her
knees together, but she was bound too well. She couldn't help
herself. She tried several times, reveling in the contact and
the inability to protect herself from his attentions. When he
had closed to within inches of her sex, she found herself trying
to stretch down to meet his fingers as they rose higher. She was
doing it for the third time when she became aware of it.
When his fingers finally touched her sex, she found that
she was embarassingly wet, and very near orgasm, having been
touched only once.
He knelt between her legs. His hands ran back and forth
in ever shrinking circles between the top of her pubic hair and
the bottom of her slit. A circle with his hands and he was
travelling within her pubic hair all the time, only pausing
briefly at the bottom of her slit to tantalize and tease her
before moving on.
Each hand mirrored the movements of the other. They
travelled up the sides of her sex, diverted into the forest of
her hair and then back down until they met at the bottom of her
slit. Three, four, five more times he repeated the maneuver,
each time the distance between his hands shortened.
On the next pass his fingers did not stray out into her
hair. Instead, they travelled up the inside of her slit, running
along in her wetness, pausing at the top of her sex just over the
clitoris, brushing it oh so briefly, and then decended back to
the bottom of her slit only to begin again.
She found herself moaning. She wasn't sure how long she
could stand this. The sensation wasn't yet all that intense, but
her state of arousal was. Without any thought on her part, she
found her hips moving, trying to increase the contact on her
clitoris as his forefingers passed over it.
She was wondering how long she could stand this when he
broke off the pattern, one long finger sliding into her hole.
The feeling of contact was so intense from this, as intense as
she could ever remember it being, that she felt her orgasm begin
almost at once.
Her fear was that he would remove his finger, stopping
her orgasm. She tried to thrust her hips at him, making a sound
that was beyond a moan, nearly a snarl. His finger was replaced
with two, both not only meeting her thrusts, but rubbing her
g-spot at the same time.
She felt that the whole center of her being was turning
to water. The orgasm began in her loins and radiated. Each time
she felt her orgasm begin to subside he increased the force of
his thrusts. It seemed to just go on and on. She was running
out of breath. She felt the room swim around her. Had she not
been blindfolded, her eyes would have refused to focus.
"And what's the first number?" she heard him say.
She was only able to moan in reply.
"I wonder how long you can keep coming?" she heard him
say. "How much do you want to keep the first number secret?"
His fingers concentrated even more on her clit. She had
begun to enter a transition phase where she wasn't so much
coming as she was going into sensation overload. When he would
speak, she didn't always focus on the first few words. As she
tried to catch her breath, which was becoming more difficult, she
found herself struggling against all of her bonds.
It was nearly 9 minutes later when she told him the first
number was 5.
He left her for a time, basking in the warm feeling that
spread through her body. She became aware of his presence when
something soft touched her stomach. It was neither cold nor
warm but it was very soft and, comforting. He placed it just
above her navel. It seemed larger than a hand and longer than it
was wide.
For a time it just lay there, without any real weight or
pressure. A slight feeling of pressure came first, followed by
movement. He was gently moving it across her stomach in small
circles. With movement came definition. It was furry, like a
small mink towel or a rabbit skin. It was larger than the hand
that moved it and it felt very good whatever it was.
He began by rubbing the area between her navel and rib
cage. One one circle he went from her left side, up her side,
past her breast, just touching the side for a second or so as it
went by, continued up her torso to her neck, and up her left arm.
He stopped at her tied wrist and slowly made the trip back down,
passed across her chest above her breasts and went up her right
arm. He continued back and forth several times, sometimes going
over her neck and the bottom of her face, other times passing
over her breasts, never quite touching the nipples.
Again, it was relaxing and stimulating at the same. As
he continued she realized he was again teasing her, continually
coming close to her nipples, never reaching them. He changed the
pattern without warning and was again going over her stomach,
having gone down her right side. He repeated the old circular
pattern, continuing it for a couple of minutes at least.
She became aware of how difficult it was to keep a time
sense without any reference. How long had she been here? (How
many times had she come?) How late in the evening was it? Was
it even dark yet? How long could she keep the last two numbers
secret?
He broke off the pattern again, and went over the sides
of her breasts. Going between them in a figure eight, then
circling one, then the other and then back to a figure eight, he
began to really get to her. It had gone from being relaxing to
arousing somewhere up on her arms, and now she actively waited
for him to use the fur on her nipples.
He would come up just so high on her breast, always
stopping just short of her nipples. It began with him stopping
inches from them, then an inch from them, then less than an inch.
She tried not to react, not to moan again, not to encourage him,
but it escaped her when he finally ran the fur over each of her
nipples in turn. He may not have noticed it. It was quiet and
he was kissing her as she moaned, his tongue invading her mouth.
After he'd stopped running the fur over over her breasts
and had returned to her stomach, she noticed the lingering taste
of mint and realized he'd brushed his teeth before beginning to
work on her.
He began doing what he'd done to her arms to her legs.
His hand passed down her left leg, going all the way to her foot.
The fur did interesting things to the bottom of her foot. He
travelled back up the inside of her leg, parting from it only
inches from her sex and travelled back down to her right foot.
Then the thought occurred to her, He was going to play the
same game with her down there that he had played with her
breasts. A quick intake of breath followed that thought.
And he did. He played the game of approaching her sex,
coming closer by millimeters at each pass. When he could not
possibly come any closer, and her loins were on fire, he circled
her mound.
She was amazed at how sensitive her stomach had become.
"We both know you're going to come now." she heard him
say. "We both know I don't have to touch you any more than I am
now."
She knew he was right. She had waited for the touch on
her sex, for his finger, or she had hoped, his member sliding up
her incredibly slick opening. She felt herself blush as she
thought that he could easily have been watching every movement of
her sex, literally looking directly inside her as she became more
and more aroused.
The sound of his voice caused it to start. She felt
herself coming. She wanted to curl up, to hide what her sex was
doing from him, but bound as she was, she could hide nothing.
Not knowing where he was, she could not know if he was observing
her face (what she must look like), her body, or directly into
her sex. She imagined him watching her vagina opening and
closing, out of her control. The thought made her orgasm more
intense, and at the same time his voice gave her something
between a command and play by play announcing of her reactions.
She realized that for the moment she was the center of
his universe, all of his attention was focused on her. Just now,
nothing other than her gyrations, her squirmings, her movements
were important to him.
Yes, it was grand!
He kept her either coming or close to it for some
minutes. It was less intense than the last one, but somehow more
delightful. When he allowed her to stop, she breathed a sigh of
relief.
It didn't last. She had barely thirty seconds before he
used his bare hands on her breasts. He knew how aroused she was
and used it, playing her like a violin. He had her coming, even
more powerfully within seconds. After a full minute of orgasm
(He had timed it by the night stand clock) he asked her for the
second number.
She refused.
He forced her to remain either on the brink or in an
orgasm for the next four minutes, then he asked her again. This
time she refused, but was not able to concentrate enough to stick
out her tongue as she had last time.
He asked her a third time as his finger entered her
exceptionally wet and very ready vagina. She was able to hold
off three more minutes (and four orgasms) before telling him the
second number was fourteen.
He continued to make her come for an additional five
minutes telling her that proper young ladies didn't stick out
their tongues at gentlemen.
She wondered how late it was. It must be several hours
now. She was surprised at how intense her last set of orgasms
had been. The last one had started so slowly and had been so
strong at the end.
She felt something small resting on her stomach. A
moment late she felt a second object resting near it. As
before, she couldn't place it from the limited contact.
Something touched her side. This was still fairly
soft, but compared to the fur it felt very stiff. This firmer,
stiffer touch went up her side. If she listened very intently
she could hear it make contact with her side each time it was
moved forward. It went up her left side, making a short detour
up the line of her ribs and then continuing back up her side.
The warmth in her loins hadn't quite extinguished
itself after his last episode. It began coming back to a boil
almost immediately. How long had she been here? Her vagina
ached for him, not his finger, not his tongue (and where had
that been, she pouted) but his cock, hard and strong thrusting
into her. The feeling slowly became an ache. It had been
there all the time. She was only now becoming really aware of
it.
He was now scratching <?>, brushing <?>, rubbing <?>
the side of her breast. He was going around it in circles, not
ever touching her nipples. What was that he was using?
---------------------------------------------------------------
He took the pastry brush again to her breast. The skin
reacted to the soft filaments passing over it. He watch
the goose flesh appear as he passed over. When he had the the
left nipple completely hard he moved on to the right one. He
began at her ribs, slowly moved in circles up the crest of her
right breast, and with not the least bit of hurry approached
her nipple. He looked on, watching her nipple harden.
He shifted on the bed. Again his shorts were binding
his member. With his free hand he made an adjustment. The Ice
on the back of his neck was calming him down after each
installment, but it's effect was lasting a shorter period with
each application. He wondered how long he would be able to
keep his cock in his shorts and out of her. When she had begun
moaning last time he had nearly forgotten about their bet.
He was beginning to wonder which of them would give in
first. He shifted again, trying to find a position where his
shorts didn't bind. He looked at her body, totally helpless
before him and knew if he were to enter her he'd wake up
tomorrow without a hair below his navel.
--------------------------------------------------------------
She felt the fire in her loins grow. There was a
second fire in her chest, beneath her breasts. She couldn't
imagine being as cool as he was being if she were doing this
sort of thing to him. She was amazed at his self control.
And what was he using on her breast?
One of the objects on her stomach fell to the side of
the bed.
She felt it on her left side. It was hard, and perhaps
three inches long. It seemed to be rectangular with each of the
remaining sides less than an inch long ... which described
everything from a ball point pen to a chisel.
"If you were able to see what was on your stomach you'd
be at least a little apprehensive, maybe even frightened." Came
his voice, soft like a silk scarf running along your leg.
"What the hell was that thing?" She wondered.
Her arms were tied above her at the head of the bed. Her
feet were tied to a pole <?> two or three feet apart and that was
firmly fastened in some way to the bottom of the bed. She was
naked of course. She had lost track of the number of times she
had come. She'd already given him two numbers of the three digit
combination. Her ability to withstand whatever he was doing or
going to do would determine which of them had pubic hair come the
dawn.
Her nipples were extremely sensitive at the moment. He'd
used something that (brushed?) her breasts and had touched every
square millimeter of her flesh except for the nipples themselves.
Not only were her loins on fire, desperate to have him penetrate
her, but her breasts were equally needing of attention.
"I want you to know no matter how much you would worry,
I've made sure they are not TOO tight." Again his soft voice
played on her.
He found himself staring at her body for seconds at a
time without realizing that he had lost concentration on the
problem at hand. His cock was as hard as he could stand. Her
smell maddened him. He bit down on his knuckle to allow him to
focus again. He quietly took a deep breath and went back to
work.
One of his bare hands touched her stomach. He gently
scratched her just below the navel with his nails. His hand
drifted down a little lower, just touching the top of her hair.
The gentle scratching continued.
"I intend to carry out the rules of the bet to the
letter, and WHERE POSSIBLE, minimize your pain."
The hand drifted down further into her pubic hair. The
rough contact on the sides of her breast continued. He would
halt one, keeping it in contact while the other began to move.
In this way her focus kept switching from place to place, but
without any calming of the fires his touches were exciting.
His hand drifted down. All of his fingers were in the
hair on her mound. He forced her to focus on the lack of
attention her clit and her pussy were getting. She successfully
stifled a moan. His hand cupped the whole area of her sex,
touching all of the exterior surface, penetrating her not at all.
"When I put this on your breast, I want you to come. Do
you understand?"
She refused to respond. If she answered, she knew that
he would easily be able to bring her to orgasm with his voice
alone (yes, she was as horny as that). She closed her eyes tight
and pretended to hear nothing.
"I have Ice in the kitchen if you need encouragement to
answer my questions." As he spoke his index finger insinuated
itself into her slit, not really penetrating her, only touching
her wetness.
Not penetrating her was very difficult. The ice from the
kitchen would be helpful now, pressed against the back of his
neck, the melted water trickling down his back. "Being tied
during this was the easy part," he thought. "Knowing that she
was ready, wet, and eager and there for the taking without taking
advantage, now that was the difficult part."
She stuck her tongue out at him again. "I understand."
she said, amazed at how husky her voice sounded.
He reached down and picked up the clothes pin. He had
stretched it's spring earlier to make sure that it didn't pinch
too tightly. As he attached it to her hard left nipple, he was
pleased to note that she first grasped in pain before being
overcome by the intensity of the sensation. He heard the
familiar sound of her orgasm as he attached the second one to her
right breast.
She was overcome by the sensations. His hand was
replaced in her awareness by the points of pain/sensation on her
nipples. She found herself thinking, "They hurt so good!" as she
was washed away by the feeling. Somehow she knew that they only
felt tight, that the sensation was mostly from her nipples'
hardness, not from the squeezing they were receiving (from
WHAT?).
And of course, she was coming. She was not even aware of
the sound coming from her throat, the low sound of a woman in the
throws of passion. The orgasm seemed centered in her brests.
She squirmed under the unrelenting sensation that the clothes
pins placed on them. She was totally bound, totally immobile,
and still she squirmed. When he began moving his hand, she
didn't begin coming harder, she just reached a new plateau of
sensation, the orgasm no longer centered in one place. Instead
her whole body seemed to be coming. She could feel her vaginal
opening throbbing less than an inch from his finger, begging for
attention. She could feel an orgasm that seemed to radiate from
her whole being.
Watching her toss and turn as she came was getting to be
too much for him. He could actually see her vagina opening and
closing; thinking about how that would feel on his cock was too
much for him. "I should have brought the ice from the kitchen"
he found himself thinking.
As he touched her clit, she heard him say, "And the final
number?"
She bid down on her lip to avoid answering. She knew
somehow that this was unfair. She wasn't sure how, but she
couldn't remember being this high before, hadn't thought that
there would be a way for him to use her body against her this
effectively.
"And when you tell me what the last number is, I'm going
to go down on you until you beg me to stop."
Something higher pitched than a moan escaped her. For a
moment she couldn't remember the last number, but seconds later
she said a single word, "Twenty-two."
Seconds later, the clothes pins still on her nipples, she
felt his tongue going up and down her slit. Of course she came
again instantly, and very strongly from this. She thrust her
loins against his mouth, trying to get his tongue to replace the
cock she desperately wanted. His left hand gripped her ass. For
a short time she simply reveled in the sensation of his contact
with her then she felt her left leg free.
She nearly wound it about him. The freedom after her
confinement was incredibly powerful. Moments later her right leg
was also free. Both of his hands gripped her now.
After a particularly powerful orgasm, he pulled away and
then was on top of her, in her. Still blindfolded, she could
only feel him, noting that his shorts were still on, only pulled
down a bit at the sides. "He couldn't wait." she thought.
He was terribly aroused. He could only last a couple of
minutes before he exploded in her belly. He collapsed and lay on
her for a moment. His hand slipped up and untied her arms,
lastly taking off her blindfold.
Blinking into the light she saw that the clock now said
11:58. It changed to 11:59 as she watched. She wound her arms
around him cradling him until she saw the clock change again. It
was reading 12:05 when they sat up.
"Do you want me to use something like NAIR or just a
razor?" He asked.
"Shouldn't you try the combination first?" She grinned at
him.
He tried the lock a second time. Of course, it refused
to open. Each time he glanced her way she was grinning.
She refused to speak to him. Instead she just took his
shoulders and laid him down in her old space on the bed. She
tied his hands to the two corners of the headboard, and with a
little more difficulty, tied his knees apart with the board at
the foot of the bed.
Giving him a long lingering kiss, she blindfolded him and
left the room.
As she had tied him, he had become hard again. He was
pleased to have thought up the blindfold, though more pleased to
have used it than to have felt it's disorienting effects.
Her smell was still strong in the room. As he noticed
it, he could feel himself becoming harder. He was glad the bet
had limited her winnings. He knew he couldn't have stood the
amount of teasing that she had evidently taken in stride.
He could hear the shower running. It went on for some
minutes. He could smell her scent still on his lips. It was
very tantilizing to be aroused (physically), have her smell on
himself and not to be able to touch himself.
The shower stopped. He heard her enter. A moment later
he felt a hot wash rag wrapped around his cock and balls as well
his lower stomach.
He could feel the warmth from the wet cloth seeping into
his loins. There was a gentle tugging and the sound of scissors
at work. He felt each section of his pubic hair trimmed in this
way. This was followed by a second warm wet cloth going over the
trimmed area in a wiping motion. He heard her soft steps going
to the sink in the bathroom and water running.
As she returned, she said, "Try not to wiggle. We don't
want any accidents now do we." What was worse was that she
giggled as she said it. He felt a cool lime foam spread over
his lower abdomen.
His erection continued unabated. He felt the razor shave
the hair as she worked her way from right to left on his pubes.
She seemed to take delight, judging from the odd giggle, in
gripping the base of his shaft and pulling it to one side to
allow a smoother, more thorough trim. At the half way point she
put the razor down and gripped his balls in one hand and his
shaft in the other.
"Are we having fun yet?" She tried to say it with a
stern voice, but couldn't keep the correct tone. Regardless of
what he thought of the proceedings, she was certainly having her
own fun over this.
"I don't know that 'fun' is exactly how I'd describe it
..." he began. His train of thought was interrupted by her mouth
beginning to envelope his straining member.
After a few seconds she released it. "Just how would you
describe it?" Without waiting for an answer, she went back down
on his member. Her teeth gently stroked the sides of his cock.
"Its an odd feeling. Kind of kinky, and a little bit
scary."
Coming up for air, she asked, "How is it scary?"
"Part of it is your having that razor next to my
privates, part of it is just being bare there. I've never had
this done before. It's going to really feel weird."
Taking his cock from her mouth, she picked up the razor
and continued her work. Working slowly, she had the area above
his cock smooth in a few more minutes. Her constant use of his
cock as a lever helped to insure that his attention was firmly
pressed on the task at hand.
She put the razor down, slid her body along his until her
mouth was next to his. She kissed him, sliding her tongue deep
into his mouth, running her hands over him at will.
"Now, I want you to be a good boy and be very still for
this next part." Her left hand slid back, gripping his cock.
"It would be very funny taking you to the Emergency room if I
slipped, but it will upset my plans for the rest of the evening.
Will you try and hold still."
"Yes. I'll try." His voice was rasping, barely under
control.
"I'm glad you're going to be a good boy." she answered,
kissing him again, never relinquishing her grip on his straining
member, her thumb running back and forth over the head.
She spent over a minute slowly slinking back down his
body. Getting off of the bed, she wiped down the area she had
shaved with the cooling wash cloth. Taking it and the razor to
the sink, she rinsed both of them in warm water. She wrung out
the cloth and returned to the bed again. Taking his shaft and
scrotum, she bathed them with the warm cloth.
Giving his cock a kiss, she began shaving the hairs at
the base. She took extreme care. The process of shaving his
cock took nearly five minutes, by itself. There were no nicks.
Had he been able to see her face, he would have known how
seriously she was taking the project. As it was, her wistling,
'Singing in the Rain', slightly off key, gave him no such
confidence.
When she was finished, she took the whole length of his
member into her mouth, reveling in it's smoothness. She found
one rough area. She applied more shaving cream to it and trimmed
the last of it's stubble. She wiped it down carefully with her
wash cloth. When she was satisfied it was smooth, she double
checked the entire base with her tongue.
She ran her left hand over his cock and now bare abdomen.
"How does that feel?" she asked.
It took him several seconds to answer. "It feels really
strange. It feels like I'm more naked." Her hand continued to
stroke him, "It feels like I'm totally helpless. If I wasn't
tied up, I'd have told you to stop. I wouldn't have ..." Her
thumb smearing a drop of emission from the tip of his cock over
the head caused him to falter, " ... have the nerve to go through
with it on my own."
She took his cock totally in her mouth. Now it was
completely smooth. Releasing it, she said simply, "Now you hold
still. This part will be more difficult."
Ten minutes later she had his scrotum smooth as well.
She took an extra few minutes to trim the hair on his
legs where it would rub against his cock and balls. She enjoyed
it so much that it was hard to know where to stop. She took a
pause every couple of minutes to suck on his nice clean cock, or
whenever she judged he was about to object. A couple of times
she took his balls in her mouth, amazing herself at how different
it felt to do this with no hair to get in the way. At last she
trimmed, with great care, the area between his scrotum and anus.
Then, deciding that he had, after all, been very good,
she untied him, placing a finger on his lips as he began to
speak. She took his cock in her mouth, cupped his balls in her
hand, and penetrated him with her finger as she sucked on his
long suffering cock. After a moment she shifted position and
placed her furry sex over his mouth as well.
She began pumping into him in time with the bobbing of
her head.