Diane Returns

"How are we doing, Honey?" Diane asked sweetly when she returned. Her husband could only look at her with desperation in his eyes. He had experienced one orgasm after another while she had been gone. "Aw, poor baby is all sweaty," she clucked her tongue as she wiped off the perspiration from his brow and chest.

She nodded down to his crotch, asking, "Does it feel good?"

"Y-yes," he panted. "It feels great. But Diane . . . please . . . I need a few minutes rest."

"Oh, you're doing fine," she answered, grabbing the spray bottle and lubing him up again. "What say we try it at a slightly higher speed?"

His eyes went wide as he saw her reaching for the speed control knob. Shaking his head violently, he weakly muttered, "No . . . no . . . no . . ."

"Now don't make me put a ball gag in your mouth," she warned. "You don't want that, do you?"

Before he could answer, his wife twisted the knob to the right. Instantly the motor shifted to a higher whine and the shaft pistoned back and forth more rapidly.

"Oh, baby!" he cried out, arching his back and thrusting his hips to meet the movements of the auto-milker. He whimpered and moaned, almost sobbing from the pleasure the machine was forcing upon him. Looking into his wife's eyes, he prepared to unleash another load for her.