Strict Susan
03-20-2006, 1:07 PM
This story is part of another new collection of short stories "Strictly Susan - The Fourth Collection" just published by A1 Adult eBooks. Details on http://www.strictsusan.com/publish
“If you really want to know,” she said abruptly, “I can’t stand sex.”
“Really?” he said, surprised. “That’s a shame. I mean, it’s one of the great joys of life for most people.”
She shook her head. “Not for me,” she said seriously. “I’ve done it, of course. Otherwise I wouldn’t have an eighteen-year-old daughter, would I?”
“You prefer women?”
“I most certainly don’t!” Her eyes blazed with anger. “I’m not one of those.”
“Nothing wrong with it,” he said defensively. “There’s plenty of women do, and there’s no need to keep it secret these days.”
“Well I’m not,” she said, still annoyed, “Are you gay then?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not. I like women.”
“And I like men,” she said positively. “There’s nothing I like more.”
“But if you don’t like sex,” he objected, “What’s the point?”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” she complained. “It was a waste of time even starting to discuss it.”
“No,” he said, “Tell me. I’m interested. Really.”
“All right,” she agreed, “But one more smart-ass comment and I’ll shut up. Got it?”
He assured her he would not say anything silly, and listened with interest as she tried to explain.
It took her several attempts to make it clear, and eventually he understood. It was not very complicated. She simply did not like men on top of her, hated the hot, sweaty thrusting of a man at her, and really had no particular liking for a man’s male parts at all. What she did like was a man touching her, and in particular she loved to feel a man’s mouth and tongue on her.
“The trouble is,” she said, “They can’t keep their hands off me when they’re doing it. I really don’t like being mauled around and fiddled with. Then when they think they’ve done it enough, they insist of doing the thrusting, grunting thing. Yeuch.”
She shuddered.
“Surely,” he said slowly, “You could stop them doing what you don’t like, and just get them to do what you do like. If a man really likes you then if you explained what you don’t like, then he would just do what you do like.”
She shook her head. “You’re all the same. You agree to anything but you’re brains are in your dicks. You think you have a God-given right to have your own nasty urges satisfied, and insist on it the moment you think you’ve given a woman what she wants. It just spoils it all, and anyway I know I’m being unfair. I get what I want, occasionally, and then I want to refuse them the same satisfaction. I just can’t help it. I don’t like it. You would be the same, even if you started with good intentions you just couldn’t help it.”
“Tie them to the bed,” he suggested with a grin. “Then they don’t have the choice.”
She laughed. “What man would agree to that? Particularly if knew he definitely wasn’t going to get it. Not much chance, is there?”
“I would.”
There was absolute silence.
She spoke first. “You would? You like me that much?”
“I didn’t say that.” He tried to make a joke of it. “I just would. Call it an urge, a desire to experience something new and different. You are an attractive woman and yes, if you wanted to do that with me, no strings attached, then I would love to try it.”
“No strings attached?”
“None. None other than those you tie me to the bed with.” He laughed. So did she.
“It would be something a bit more solid than string,” she warned, “I’m not having you breaking free right in the middle of it before I’ve finished.”
“Whatever,” he said airily. “I’ll try it once, and then I’ll let you know if I want to do it again.”
“You are serious?”
“Oh yes,” he confirmed. “I’m completely serious if you are.”
“And you do realise that there is no way you are going to get anything from this? I’m not touching your nasty little bits, no matter how much you beg me to?”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Right then.” Her eyes flashed as though a fire had suddenly been ignited in them. “Give me five minutes and we’ll get started”
“Now?”
“Yes, right now. I’ll go and get it ready.”
She disappeared upstairs. He waited, wondering if this was really a good idea but at the same time excited at the thought of it. She was an attractive woman, although a little skinnier than he really liked. He had known her for a long time, and although they had flirted mildly on numerous occasions over the years, he had never really considered anything more than that. He always assumed that she too had regarded their relationship as little more than simple friendship.
She reappeared. She had changed her clothes or, rather, she had undressed and put on a flimsy black nightdress and now wore a thin gown over it, open at the front.
“Ready?” she asked.
He followed her up the stairs. He had never been in her bedroom before, and he was surprised to see the impressive bed with the huge brass frame to it.
“Nice,” he said. “A very nice room.”
“Planning on spending a lot of time in it?” she asked.
“As long as you need me,” he smiled. “I’m not in a hurry.”
“You might regret saying that,” she warned. “I might want you for a long time. I’ve never really had a man like this. They always stop long before I want them to.”
“Are you trying to put me off?” he asked. “We don’t have to do it if you’re not in the mood for it. Maybe we should leave it for some other time.”
The truth was that now he was here in her bedroom he was far less certain about this than when they had talked about it downstairs. He was definitely excited, and more so now that he was in her bedroom and she was so clearly ready and excited too, yet there was something a little frightening about it.
“I’m in the mood for it!” she told him enthusiastically. “And it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the mood or not, as long as you make the effort. It was you who suggested I should tie you to the bed, not me. I’m just warning you that if I tie you then I make all the decisions, and you won’t be going anywhere until I’m completely satisfied.”
“That’s OK,” he told her, the tone of his voice considerably less certain than his words. “I just didn’t expect it to be me when I suggested you should tie a man up to get what you wanted. I didn’t really mean to put ideas like that in your head!”
“The ideas were already there,” she said. “You just confirmed them. I’ve often thought about doing something like this. I even bought some things for it, although I’ve never used them. Look.”
She went to a set of drawers next to the bed and took out two pairs of handcuffs.
“See?” she said. “I thought about handcuffing someone, but tying you properly to the bed is a much better idea. I would far prefer to be on top, and the ties will be far more comfortable than handcuffs for you.”
She indicated the leather straps that hung down at the corner of the bed. They were tied securely around the brass frame, and at the ends were strong leather cuffs that could be buckled around wrists or ankles.
“Right,” she said. “We needn’t waste any time on preliminaries or foreplay. Get your clothes off and lie on the bed.”
As she spoke, she dropped the thin gown she was wearing onto the floor. Her black nightdress was thin and although he could not quite see her body through it, it was flimsy enough to give him more than just the impression of her shape inside it. He gazed at her without moving.
“Well?” she said crossly. “Are you going to do it or are you just going to stare at me all day?”
“You’re very attractive,” he said.
“Obviously. If you didn’t find me attractive, you wouldn’t be prepared to do this with me, would you? Now stop wasting time and get your clothes off.”
Slowly he undressed, uncomfortably aware that she was watching him intently. As he removed his trousers and pants, leaving himself now completely naked, she spoke.
“I see you do find me attractive.”
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I know that’s not what you want.”
“Don’t apologise,” she told him, moving closer to him. “In fact, I could almost be tempted...”
Her hand reached out towards him, heading down towards his hardness. She paused, only an inch or two away from it, hesitated, and then withdrew her hand. She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “That’s not what I want. Come on. Lie on the bed and I’ll attach the straps.”
He lay on his back feeling both nervous and embarrassed. She walked around the bed picking up the straps one at a time and securing first his wrists and then his ankles to the corners. When each was buckled firmly in place, she went round again and shortened the straps, stretching his arms and legs far apart so that he was spread-eagled on the bed.
He suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable. “I’m not sure about this,” he said. “I think I’ve changed my mind.”
“Too late,” she said briskly. “I told you that once I had you tied up I wouldn’t let you go until I had finished with you.”
She clambered onto the bed and knelt astride his stomach. Her nightdress brushed against him, feeling soft and sensual against his skin. She sat back, her nightdress underneath her between her skin and his, the thin material stretched taut between her firm buttocks as it pressed on his hardness and forced it down flat against him.
Instinctively he pushed upwards with his hips.
“See?” she said, “If you weren’t tied up you would already be trying to push your nasty bits where I don’t want them. All men are the same. You just can’t help it, can you?”
“I...” He started to protest that if she had not sat on it then he would not have reacted, but he knew it was a pointless argument. “No,” he said. “We can’t help it.”
“Ha!” she said in triumph, and moved forward up his body ignoring his hardness as it sprang upright the moment it was free of her weight.
“Now we can get on with it.”
Her thighs were either side of his head, and slowly she raised the nightdress as she slid further forward towards his face, letting the material fall around him as she reached him.
“Lick,” she ordered, “And make it good. It’s what you’re here for.”
He licked. He licked, sucked, pressed and kissed.
She moaned, squirmed, wriggled and adjusted her position to give him access to every part of her where she wanted to feel his tongue and his mouth.
Gasping, she murmured, “You’re good. Oh shit! This is good!”
“Thanks,” he said, pausing momentarily in his attentions to her.
“Shut up! Don’t talk, don’t stop.”
As she urged him to continue, she slid even further forward to find his mouth. Although she was not at all a large woman, as she pressed down on him he now found his mouth and nose completely covered by her, her flesh forming an airtight seal over him. He struggled frantically to breathe, thinking that she had not realised she was smothering him.
For nearly a minute she stayed where she was, apparently oblivious to his desperate struggling. Finally she raised herself, and he gasped and gulped at the fresh air.
“You really can’t free yourself, can you?” she asked. “I’m sure you were doing your best when I smothered you, so now I know for sure.”
“For goodness sake!” he spluttered. “You might have killed me.”
“I don’t think so,” she laughed, “A minute without air won’t do you any harm. You could manage twice that long at least, although I don’t suppose it would be very comfortable for you. So just get back to doing what you’re there for. I’ll tell you when you can stop.”
*
It was nearly thirty minutes later that it happened. Her eyes were closed, her hands grasping the brass frame of the bed in front of her, wide apart and holding on with enough force to shake the whole bed as her body quivered and shuddered in pleasure. She had almost forgotten who or what was under her, concentrating on the physical sensations he was giving her as he licked and sucked and struggled for breath under her.
Neither of them heard the bedroom door opening and then closing again. Neither of them noticed the movement in the room, nor saw anyone take the handcuffs from the drawer next to the bed. Neither of them had any idea they were not alone until, in a rush of noise and movement, she felt the handcuffs snapped around both of her wrists and firmly attached to the brass bed frame.
“What the hell?” She opened her eyes.
“You’re disgusting, both of you. Absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe you’re doing this!”
“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?”
He heard their voices, realised she had stopped wriggling on top of him, and struggled to see what was going on. Dimly, through the material of her nightdress still draped around his head, he could make out another woman standing by the bed. In more embarrassment than he had ever known, he realised that it was her daughter.
“Just as well I came home early,” the daughter was saying. “Mother! How could you? And how could you with him? It’s just disgusting.”
“What do you mean ‘with him’? With who? You can’t see who it is, can you? Take off these handcuffs at once, then get out.”
“You’re disgusting,” her daughter said again. “You can’t even do it the normal way. Look at this.”
He felt a sharp slap on his hardness and realised that the daughter had done it.
“What’s wrong with this?” she asked her mother angrily. “It looks good enough to me. I wouldn’t be sitting on his face. I’d be shagging this if I had him tied to the bed!”
“Well you haven’t. I have. So I can do what I like. How dare you try and tell me what to do? Get these cuffs off me and get out.”
The daughter was shaking her head. He almost groaned but stifled it at the last minute, realising that she might recognise his voice if he made any noise at all.
“I’m not taking the cuffs off you,” she said. “In fact, I’m going to make quite sure you don’t get off him at all for a while.”
She searched through the drawers and produced two long scarves. Deftly she wrapped them around her mother’s thighs and knotted the ends to the frame of the bed directly underneath where her mother sat.
“There you go,” she said with a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Now neither of you are going anywhere for a while.”
“Just you take these off me right now, young lady, or you’re in so much trouble you won’t know what’s hit you.”
“I don’t think so,” her daughter replied. “You see, I don’t think you really want everyone to know about your activities, do you?”
Her mother was silent.
“So you,” her daughter went on, “Can just stay there for a while and think about your disgusting behaviour. But don’t think you’ll get away without some embarrassment. You do remember that some of my friends I went to school with are coming round this evening? I think they would be fascinated to see what you get up to, and I’m sure they won’t tell anyone else.”
The handcuffs rattled against the bed frame as her mother tried desperately to free herself.
“You’ll hurt your wrists if you go on doing that,” the daughter warned. “There’s no way you can get away until I decide to release you. I hope he’s enjoying himself down there, because he has a very long wait before he sees the light of day again.”
“Now,” she continued, leaning over the bed and grasping his hardness in her hand, “The only question is whether I want to shag him now, later, or leave it to any of my friends to do. It really would be a shame to leave it unshagged, although I suppose it might be nearly as much fun to see how much pain we could cause him...”
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“If you really want to know,” she said abruptly, “I can’t stand sex.”
“Really?” he said, surprised. “That’s a shame. I mean, it’s one of the great joys of life for most people.”
She shook her head. “Not for me,” she said seriously. “I’ve done it, of course. Otherwise I wouldn’t have an eighteen-year-old daughter, would I?”
“You prefer women?”
“I most certainly don’t!” Her eyes blazed with anger. “I’m not one of those.”
“Nothing wrong with it,” he said defensively. “There’s plenty of women do, and there’s no need to keep it secret these days.”
“Well I’m not,” she said, still annoyed, “Are you gay then?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not. I like women.”
“And I like men,” she said positively. “There’s nothing I like more.”
“But if you don’t like sex,” he objected, “What’s the point?”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” she complained. “It was a waste of time even starting to discuss it.”
“No,” he said, “Tell me. I’m interested. Really.”
“All right,” she agreed, “But one more smart-ass comment and I’ll shut up. Got it?”
He assured her he would not say anything silly, and listened with interest as she tried to explain.
It took her several attempts to make it clear, and eventually he understood. It was not very complicated. She simply did not like men on top of her, hated the hot, sweaty thrusting of a man at her, and really had no particular liking for a man’s male parts at all. What she did like was a man touching her, and in particular she loved to feel a man’s mouth and tongue on her.
“The trouble is,” she said, “They can’t keep their hands off me when they’re doing it. I really don’t like being mauled around and fiddled with. Then when they think they’ve done it enough, they insist of doing the thrusting, grunting thing. Yeuch.”
She shuddered.
“Surely,” he said slowly, “You could stop them doing what you don’t like, and just get them to do what you do like. If a man really likes you then if you explained what you don’t like, then he would just do what you do like.”
She shook her head. “You’re all the same. You agree to anything but you’re brains are in your dicks. You think you have a God-given right to have your own nasty urges satisfied, and insist on it the moment you think you’ve given a woman what she wants. It just spoils it all, and anyway I know I’m being unfair. I get what I want, occasionally, and then I want to refuse them the same satisfaction. I just can’t help it. I don’t like it. You would be the same, even if you started with good intentions you just couldn’t help it.”
“Tie them to the bed,” he suggested with a grin. “Then they don’t have the choice.”
She laughed. “What man would agree to that? Particularly if knew he definitely wasn’t going to get it. Not much chance, is there?”
“I would.”
There was absolute silence.
She spoke first. “You would? You like me that much?”
“I didn’t say that.” He tried to make a joke of it. “I just would. Call it an urge, a desire to experience something new and different. You are an attractive woman and yes, if you wanted to do that with me, no strings attached, then I would love to try it.”
“No strings attached?”
“None. None other than those you tie me to the bed with.” He laughed. So did she.
“It would be something a bit more solid than string,” she warned, “I’m not having you breaking free right in the middle of it before I’ve finished.”
“Whatever,” he said airily. “I’ll try it once, and then I’ll let you know if I want to do it again.”
“You are serious?”
“Oh yes,” he confirmed. “I’m completely serious if you are.”
“And you do realise that there is no way you are going to get anything from this? I’m not touching your nasty little bits, no matter how much you beg me to?”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Right then.” Her eyes flashed as though a fire had suddenly been ignited in them. “Give me five minutes and we’ll get started”
“Now?”
“Yes, right now. I’ll go and get it ready.”
She disappeared upstairs. He waited, wondering if this was really a good idea but at the same time excited at the thought of it. She was an attractive woman, although a little skinnier than he really liked. He had known her for a long time, and although they had flirted mildly on numerous occasions over the years, he had never really considered anything more than that. He always assumed that she too had regarded their relationship as little more than simple friendship.
She reappeared. She had changed her clothes or, rather, she had undressed and put on a flimsy black nightdress and now wore a thin gown over it, open at the front.
“Ready?” she asked.
He followed her up the stairs. He had never been in her bedroom before, and he was surprised to see the impressive bed with the huge brass frame to it.
“Nice,” he said. “A very nice room.”
“Planning on spending a lot of time in it?” she asked.
“As long as you need me,” he smiled. “I’m not in a hurry.”
“You might regret saying that,” she warned. “I might want you for a long time. I’ve never really had a man like this. They always stop long before I want them to.”
“Are you trying to put me off?” he asked. “We don’t have to do it if you’re not in the mood for it. Maybe we should leave it for some other time.”
The truth was that now he was here in her bedroom he was far less certain about this than when they had talked about it downstairs. He was definitely excited, and more so now that he was in her bedroom and she was so clearly ready and excited too, yet there was something a little frightening about it.
“I’m in the mood for it!” she told him enthusiastically. “And it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the mood or not, as long as you make the effort. It was you who suggested I should tie you to the bed, not me. I’m just warning you that if I tie you then I make all the decisions, and you won’t be going anywhere until I’m completely satisfied.”
“That’s OK,” he told her, the tone of his voice considerably less certain than his words. “I just didn’t expect it to be me when I suggested you should tie a man up to get what you wanted. I didn’t really mean to put ideas like that in your head!”
“The ideas were already there,” she said. “You just confirmed them. I’ve often thought about doing something like this. I even bought some things for it, although I’ve never used them. Look.”
She went to a set of drawers next to the bed and took out two pairs of handcuffs.
“See?” she said. “I thought about handcuffing someone, but tying you properly to the bed is a much better idea. I would far prefer to be on top, and the ties will be far more comfortable than handcuffs for you.”
She indicated the leather straps that hung down at the corner of the bed. They were tied securely around the brass frame, and at the ends were strong leather cuffs that could be buckled around wrists or ankles.
“Right,” she said. “We needn’t waste any time on preliminaries or foreplay. Get your clothes off and lie on the bed.”
As she spoke, she dropped the thin gown she was wearing onto the floor. Her black nightdress was thin and although he could not quite see her body through it, it was flimsy enough to give him more than just the impression of her shape inside it. He gazed at her without moving.
“Well?” she said crossly. “Are you going to do it or are you just going to stare at me all day?”
“You’re very attractive,” he said.
“Obviously. If you didn’t find me attractive, you wouldn’t be prepared to do this with me, would you? Now stop wasting time and get your clothes off.”
Slowly he undressed, uncomfortably aware that she was watching him intently. As he removed his trousers and pants, leaving himself now completely naked, she spoke.
“I see you do find me attractive.”
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I know that’s not what you want.”
“Don’t apologise,” she told him, moving closer to him. “In fact, I could almost be tempted...”
Her hand reached out towards him, heading down towards his hardness. She paused, only an inch or two away from it, hesitated, and then withdrew her hand. She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “That’s not what I want. Come on. Lie on the bed and I’ll attach the straps.”
He lay on his back feeling both nervous and embarrassed. She walked around the bed picking up the straps one at a time and securing first his wrists and then his ankles to the corners. When each was buckled firmly in place, she went round again and shortened the straps, stretching his arms and legs far apart so that he was spread-eagled on the bed.
He suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable. “I’m not sure about this,” he said. “I think I’ve changed my mind.”
“Too late,” she said briskly. “I told you that once I had you tied up I wouldn’t let you go until I had finished with you.”
She clambered onto the bed and knelt astride his stomach. Her nightdress brushed against him, feeling soft and sensual against his skin. She sat back, her nightdress underneath her between her skin and his, the thin material stretched taut between her firm buttocks as it pressed on his hardness and forced it down flat against him.
Instinctively he pushed upwards with his hips.
“See?” she said, “If you weren’t tied up you would already be trying to push your nasty bits where I don’t want them. All men are the same. You just can’t help it, can you?”
“I...” He started to protest that if she had not sat on it then he would not have reacted, but he knew it was a pointless argument. “No,” he said. “We can’t help it.”
“Ha!” she said in triumph, and moved forward up his body ignoring his hardness as it sprang upright the moment it was free of her weight.
“Now we can get on with it.”
Her thighs were either side of his head, and slowly she raised the nightdress as she slid further forward towards his face, letting the material fall around him as she reached him.
“Lick,” she ordered, “And make it good. It’s what you’re here for.”
He licked. He licked, sucked, pressed and kissed.
She moaned, squirmed, wriggled and adjusted her position to give him access to every part of her where she wanted to feel his tongue and his mouth.
Gasping, she murmured, “You’re good. Oh shit! This is good!”
“Thanks,” he said, pausing momentarily in his attentions to her.
“Shut up! Don’t talk, don’t stop.”
As she urged him to continue, she slid even further forward to find his mouth. Although she was not at all a large woman, as she pressed down on him he now found his mouth and nose completely covered by her, her flesh forming an airtight seal over him. He struggled frantically to breathe, thinking that she had not realised she was smothering him.
For nearly a minute she stayed where she was, apparently oblivious to his desperate struggling. Finally she raised herself, and he gasped and gulped at the fresh air.
“You really can’t free yourself, can you?” she asked. “I’m sure you were doing your best when I smothered you, so now I know for sure.”
“For goodness sake!” he spluttered. “You might have killed me.”
“I don’t think so,” she laughed, “A minute without air won’t do you any harm. You could manage twice that long at least, although I don’t suppose it would be very comfortable for you. So just get back to doing what you’re there for. I’ll tell you when you can stop.”
*
It was nearly thirty minutes later that it happened. Her eyes were closed, her hands grasping the brass frame of the bed in front of her, wide apart and holding on with enough force to shake the whole bed as her body quivered and shuddered in pleasure. She had almost forgotten who or what was under her, concentrating on the physical sensations he was giving her as he licked and sucked and struggled for breath under her.
Neither of them heard the bedroom door opening and then closing again. Neither of them noticed the movement in the room, nor saw anyone take the handcuffs from the drawer next to the bed. Neither of them had any idea they were not alone until, in a rush of noise and movement, she felt the handcuffs snapped around both of her wrists and firmly attached to the brass bed frame.
“What the hell?” She opened her eyes.
“You’re disgusting, both of you. Absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe you’re doing this!”
“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?”
He heard their voices, realised she had stopped wriggling on top of him, and struggled to see what was going on. Dimly, through the material of her nightdress still draped around his head, he could make out another woman standing by the bed. In more embarrassment than he had ever known, he realised that it was her daughter.
“Just as well I came home early,” the daughter was saying. “Mother! How could you? And how could you with him? It’s just disgusting.”
“What do you mean ‘with him’? With who? You can’t see who it is, can you? Take off these handcuffs at once, then get out.”
“You’re disgusting,” her daughter said again. “You can’t even do it the normal way. Look at this.”
He felt a sharp slap on his hardness and realised that the daughter had done it.
“What’s wrong with this?” she asked her mother angrily. “It looks good enough to me. I wouldn’t be sitting on his face. I’d be shagging this if I had him tied to the bed!”
“Well you haven’t. I have. So I can do what I like. How dare you try and tell me what to do? Get these cuffs off me and get out.”
The daughter was shaking her head. He almost groaned but stifled it at the last minute, realising that she might recognise his voice if he made any noise at all.
“I’m not taking the cuffs off you,” she said. “In fact, I’m going to make quite sure you don’t get off him at all for a while.”
She searched through the drawers and produced two long scarves. Deftly she wrapped them around her mother’s thighs and knotted the ends to the frame of the bed directly underneath where her mother sat.
“There you go,” she said with a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Now neither of you are going anywhere for a while.”
“Just you take these off me right now, young lady, or you’re in so much trouble you won’t know what’s hit you.”
“I don’t think so,” her daughter replied. “You see, I don’t think you really want everyone to know about your activities, do you?”
Her mother was silent.
“So you,” her daughter went on, “Can just stay there for a while and think about your disgusting behaviour. But don’t think you’ll get away without some embarrassment. You do remember that some of my friends I went to school with are coming round this evening? I think they would be fascinated to see what you get up to, and I’m sure they won’t tell anyone else.”
The handcuffs rattled against the bed frame as her mother tried desperately to free herself.
“You’ll hurt your wrists if you go on doing that,” the daughter warned. “There’s no way you can get away until I decide to release you. I hope he’s enjoying himself down there, because he has a very long wait before he sees the light of day again.”
“Now,” she continued, leaning over the bed and grasping his hardness in her hand, “The only question is whether I want to shag him now, later, or leave it to any of my friends to do. It really would be a shame to leave it unshagged, although I suppose it might be nearly as much fun to see how much pain we could cause him...”
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