Nothing.

Panting heavily through her nose, liquid dripping freely from both sets of lips, on the cusp of orgasm, she tried her best to control herself as 'his' fingers grazed and trailed around her crotch, the lightest touch on her clit sending lights up her spine, before 'his' hand left her body, and she sensed 'him' moving away. She waited, with bated breath, for the next contact. Would 'he' play with her breasts again? Was 'he' about to make use of her pussy or asshole? Would 'he' use his fingers, 'his' cock, or a toy? The latex suit creaked and squeaked as she rubbed her thighs together in anticipation.

But 'he' never came back.

Her breath and pulse quickened. Craning her head up as far as she could, she swung it around, straining her deafened ears to hear if anyone was there with her, making pathetic whimpering noises of pleas and protest. But there was no response.

Her head filled with even more questions, making it heavy, held up only by the rigging. Why did they leave her? Did they not like what she had to offer? Was she too passive? What if they never came back? Would someone else replace them? Would it be a woman this time? Would they be rougher? Gentler? Did they know she was about to cum, and that was why they stopped? Did they want to leave her on edge like this until her time was up? Was it up already? Can't be. It's only been... fuck! How long has it been?

Taking controlled breaths through her nose, she **** herself to calm down. This has to be part of the play. They wouldn't just leave her like this.

Right?