P01E21

I put my right hand on the inside of her thigh, and stretched my thumb out to reach for the slope to the vulva. The flesh was soft and smooth, and I let my thumb stroke it gently for a minute. Marcy’s breathing got heavier, and her mouth opened slightly as she kept looking at me. I moved my hand a bit closer, so my thumb reached the labia, continuing and widening my stroke until it ran the full length of her left genital lip. Marcy exhaled in a long sigh as I placed my left hand on the opposite thigh, and copied the same thumb stroke at the other end of her pussy, rubbing both her outer labia in long, parallel strokes. My thumbs, finding no resistance to anything they did, quickly gained audacity. They bended, and as my hands moved even closer together to facilitate them, rounded the edges of her labia and delved into the gorge below, pushing the outer labia outward and away as they did, divulging even more of the pink delicacy in between. After making a short rubbing stop in the valley between outer and inner labia, both thumbs surmounted those and spread them away as well. They found a lush and tender valley, soggy and succulent. Fingertips traveled easy there as the domestic juice lubed their movements, and my thumbs utilized that greedily, exploring the width and depth of their enigmatic and enchanting discovery in a wild symphony of strokes, rubs, taps, and flips. Marcy’s body jerked and jolted under my handling, but her bondage kept her firmly in place and defenseless against my attention.

I let the vigor of the thumbs gradually subside until both thumbs were at rest, doing nothing except keeping the labia spread. Even more juice had appeared, and both her pussy and my hands were slick and sticky. She was panting heavily, still looking me in the eye, as Howard had repeatedly instructed her while I was playing her. Both the anxiety and the anticipation were gone in her glance now, and had been replaced by an expression which seemed to indicate a question, or maybe a request? I couldn’t quite fathom it.

But my exploration was far from complete yet. From my current position I could either dig deeper into her sheath, or move upward to focus my attention on her clit. I chose the latter. As my left thumb backed away from the action, I introduced my right index finger in it as my hand slowly moved towards it, drawing a track upward inside the inner labia, spreading her lips further open as they moved. The target was at the end of it, an amazingly small jut of flesh, yet containing the salience of her sex. It was exposed even more when my fingers spread the labia away from it, making it stand up and out on its own, erect and attentive.

I took a full twenty seconds to make the two-inch journey. When I finally arrived, I made sure it was at the base of the clit, not at the tip. My thumb and finger parted here, each going one side of the clit, their pressure still applied outward, pushing the labia away, so the clit stood out even more alone and unprotected. When my fingers had enveloped her midway on the side of the clit, they reversed their pressure, and pinched the clit between them, taking a firm grip of it at the base, and pulling it outward. Marcy yelped, but that didn’t stop me from locking it in a solid squeeze, and starting a rolling tweak on it between my fingertips.

The result was very satisfying. As she jolted wildly in her remorseless constraints, Marcy’s mouth fell wide open, as if to make room for the initial shriek as I grabbed her clit, which developed into a moan as I continued firmly squeezing and rolling he clit between my fingertips. Her eyes widened, and though she still looked at me, it didn’t appear as if she actually saw anything.

I didn’t give her any room to regain her composure. While she was still getting to grips with the **** on her clit, my other hand moved for her slit. Without further ado, I extended three fingers and wedged them into her. She was completely juiced up by now, and they slid in easily despite their joint size. When they were stuck in as deep as they could, stopping only when my knuckles hit her labia, I twisted the fingers inside her, and bent them upwards. It was of course only theoretical knowledge that her G-spot should be somewhere over there, but I had studied the theory quite well, and I found it. Unrelentlessly keeping up the tweaking squeeze of her clit, my fingers deep inside started a thorough rub of the front side of her womb.

As a finishing touch, I bent my torso forward between her legs so it was just inches away from her face, and hissed at her: “So tell me, little slut… are you more of a clit slut, or more of a slit slut? “

My **** was masterfully devised and skilfully executed, if I may say so myself, and it shattered her defenses by the sheer brutality of its overwhelming might and resolution. Despite all her denial training and all her determination to refrain from orgasm, my words were enough to make her drop the last straw, and she came right then and there.

Howard had said she was a squirter, but I had hardly realized what that really meant. Now I was astonished as a huge fountain sprayed up and hit my stomach and chest as I still leaned over her, then splashed down on her own breasts and face. She was completely knocked off the world; her body shocked and convulsed, testing the limits of her restraints, which didn’t give her an inch of extra wiggling room and left her fighting the voracious orgasm within the tight confines of her bondage. Her eyes focused on some point on the ceiling, and her voice uttered a high-pitched squeal, with clearly recognizable words in it, repeated time and time again: “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry!”, as the waves of delight ripped across her entire body in a continuous stream. She clearly realized the illegal nature of the orgasm, being under my uncle’s denial instructions… and she also realized that she had just lost the thrusts of her husband’s cock into her pussy for another two weeks.

I watched her travel through the orgasm, as the convulsions gradually dwindled into mere quivers and she seemed to return to planet Earth. Her gaze returned to me, and she managed a weak smile.