And I was happy to oblige you. kickoff, I carefully covered your eyes with a silk blindfold, tying it securely behind your head and leaving you in the dark, still with no theme of my intentions. succeeding, I helped you conduct off your wearable. This was n't easy with the blindfold in topographic point screwing with your balance, but still you somehow maintained your poise and made it calculate graceful. Then, clad only in the ashen lacing panties you wore specially for me, I sit you down in a tough - but not uncomfortable - wooden hot seat. Finally, after taking a minute to look up to your perfect, picket, quiet skin, I carefully guide your branch behind you, and with silk restraints, bond them securely to the binding of your chairperson. Your breathing quickens slightly, but I notice it in the quiet stillness of the room.

Now finished, I step back to admire my handicraft and your almost-naked consistency in the dim light, my middle lingering on the hardening shape in the front of your scanty telling me that you 're enjoying this almost as a good deal as I am. A few moments past as I 'm lost in the curves of your body, your irreverent breast and severely mamilla, and I see you shiver in anticipation, the muteness clearly not wasted on you.

I step forward now, standing behind you, placing my hands lightly on your bare shoulders. It is n't cold in here but I can find goosebumps under my touch. I squeeze gently, kneeling down and placing my back talk on your shoulder, kissing your gross skin from your shoulder to neck as you tilt your school principal away from me in a slavish gesture baring more of your neck to my attending. My right manus makes its way down unruffled flat stomach to your hardening putz, lightly caressing your length through the pantie. Your hone lip part slightly and I hear a quiet but enthusiastic gasp.

Encouraged, but still enjoying toying with your body, my left hand CVA over your thorax, tracing lazy circles around your areola. I feel you shift slightly against your simpleness as I kiss up your cervix, my hot breath performing over your uncovered skin. I take your earlobe into my sassing and tease it with my tooth. Sliding my hand under the waistband of your panties, I free your throbbing cock, softly playing my hands up and down your length. Catching a drop of your precum on my index fingerbreadth, I bring it to your undetermined mouth and place it at your lips, and you greedily take my digit into your mouth. I reward you with my depart hand, pinching your nipple and eliciting a groan from you.

Reluctantly, I take my finger from your mouth and place my left wing handwriting on your extremity, this metre gripping you Sir Thomas More firmly, and slowly stroke wax distance of your cock. You arch your cover for me, and I take this invitation to slip my right script down the dorsum of your underclothing. You exhale sharply as my index digit, slick with your saliva, slideway between your cheeks and minx your tight hole, gently applying pressure but not committing. I nybble harder at your ear and increase my step, stroking your tool more urgently. You struggle against your shackle, pushing your torso back and pressing your bud against my playful digit. I hear your breathing quicken and feel your organic structure start to quiver.

I smile to myself, and contain my hand from your prick, and my mouth from your ear. As your eagerly awaited orgasm recedes, you sigh impatiently. I tut, and whisper quietly in your ear, `` Not yet. ``

I withdraw my finger from the backbone of your underwear, and go to educate my outset surprisal for you : a minor vibrating silicon plug, now coated and glistening with lube. I place my remaining hand on the pocket-size of your binding, and you take the confidential information, leaning forward as much as the chasteness will let and presenting your nates to me. I pull aside your skimpy panties and bring the tip of the hoopla to you, pressing gently until you relent and it slides inside of you. With a whimper, the erupt head enters you, and the fireplug slides into topographic point, the slender cablegram leading out to a control in the palm of my eager hand.

Again I smile to myself, and lean closer to your chair, still kneeling behind you. With a electrical switch, I turn the vibrator on, and you gasp audibly, shifting forwards slightly but held tightly by the silk restraints. With one hand I start to toy with your pap again, enjoying the timid gasps the vibrator and my attentions are invoking. With my other mitt I take detention of your cock and part to stroke you slowly, in time with the quiver of the stopple. I lean over your shoulder joint, and place my lips over your mouth and buss you deeply. Pinching, and tugging, I feel you start to tremor as the elusive revolution of your body clear gait and you start to tense once more.

I slow my step and plough off the vibrator, leaving you shuddering and whining expectantly. I lean in and snog you on the cheek while I start to unwrap the simpleness tying your paw to the chair. You shuffle impatiently on your seat as the silk ties get looser, your heavy cock disclosing your intentions. Finally, freed, we stand up together and you press yourself to me, one hand lowered to my crotch, feeling the rigor of my prick through my reduce underwear.

We kiss again with importunity and passion, my hands gripping your ass through your pantie and pulling you to me, your gruelling cock trapped between us. I break the kiss, and pull down your underwear, dropping them to the floor. You do the same to me, and I place my hands on your hips and spin you around, pushing you forwards so that you 're leaning forward over the back of the death chair, my hard pecker pressing between your spread buttock against the pedestal of the stopple still firmly lodged inside you. I lean forward over you and kiss your neck as I grip the floor of the spark plug and starting line to pull it out of you. You moan at the pressure on your hole as the base slips out, leaving you feeling empty.

I lean back a little, giving myself room to location the head of my rooster against your well-lubed and waiting entrance. You moan loudly, and I stroke your cock as I slowly press the tip of my length into your tight hole. Breathing heavily, I push forward until my whole length is buried inside you. For a moment, we 're still while I give you a second to adjust to my grueling stopcock filling you. I start to stroke you dissolute as I draw out and push back in, building up to a unbendable rhythm, my powerful consistence thrusting into you.

My former hand wanders to your bureau, rubbing a nipple between my fingers, toying and pinching. Feeling myself impaled in your tight hole is rapidly bringing on my climax, and I start to stroke you riotous. I tense up and breathe harder, pinching you intemperately now, increasing my pace. I lower my helping hand from your chest to your stomach and pull you forcefully towards me, my cock pressed deep into you, I bite down hard on your shoulder - not hard enough to draw parentage, but hard enough for you to feel it - as I start to climax deeply inside you. Still squeezing your cock, though tight against you, you finally hand your own climax, and shoot rope of sticky semen all up your stomach and chest.

heaving, and spent, I kiss you on the neck and appreciation you around the waist until I catch my breathing space, our underwear, and prop littering the floor around us .