Feather

Lois nodded, heart beating in anticipation. While she wouldn't say that she was up for absolutely anything, she had been having fun so far, and...she trusted Maria.

The woman turned around and returned with a metal pole, perhaps two feet long, with straps on either end. It looked like a deranged cheerleader's wand.

"This is a spreader bar." The redhead said. "I'm going to tie these straps around your knees. When I do that, you can't close your legs. Okay?"

"Okay," Lois said, trying to smile. It wasn't much worse than being handcuffed, really...except she hadn't even considered that closing her legs was a freedom that could be taken away. Given away, in this case. She watched Maria work, the woman being careful that the fit was firm but not to make the straps too tight.

"Try and close your legs." Maria said when she finished. Lois flexed her thighs, trying to turn her knees inward...but she couldn't budge it an inch. Her pussy sat there, perfectly exposed and ****, and Lois realized she didn't have any way to cover it.

"Good," The redhead smiled, and impulsively leaned over to give Lois a kiss—just a hint of tongue, quick and affectionate. "Now, for the fun part..."

She drew forth the feather.

It was a peacock's feather, that deep green that seemed almost metallic, shading into the blue-and-black eye near the top. Maria held it by the quill, and gently ran the fine edges down Lois' inner thighs, one after another.

"I'm...not that ticklish," Lois admitted, as the feather flicked over the outside of her nether lips.

"This isn't about being ticklish," Maria said, eyes on her task. Lois felt the impossibly soft flick as the feather brushed her clit. "This is about stimulation...and not being able to do anything about it."

The feathers trailed lazily over Lois' pussy, and she wiggled her hips at the unexpected itch.

"For so many people, sex is just pumping in and out. Then someone cums and it's done." The feather slid down Lois' left thigh, toward her pussy, but never quite arrived. "But sex is more than that. Sex is anticipation." The feather dipped down, suddenly, to stroke Lois' inner lips.

Lois squirmed, a little. It was literally an itch she couldn't scratch, each brush of the feather tip like an insect crawling on her skin, and the stimulation was building, stroke after stroke. Maria smiled as the peacock feather tickled the reporter's pussy, smiled wider as she let it torment the stiff clit over the wet hole...and neither did Lois' lover ignore the rest of her body. The impossible softness flicked at each nipple, ran in a line down her sweaty belly, and on the exposed undersides of her upper arms...everywhere Lois couldn't touch, but wanted to...

It was slow, soft ****. And Maria was loving every minute of it. Lois could see the sweat break out on the other woman's face, in response to her own growing agitation. Already Lois' thighs were sore from straining against the spreader bar, wanting desperately to do nothing more than close her legs and rub one out, but Maria wouldn't let her...no, not yet...and as Lois squirmed she wondered what else this woman had in mind for her.

"Have you had enough?" Maria asked, brandishing the feather.