She gets wet and bothered

“Tell me.” Alison turns in my arms, so her face is just inches from mine. “Tell me exactly what you'd do with your new raw **** when you first brought her home.” Her breathing is rapid and shallow, and I see the color in her cheeks; this young woman has it bad. “Would you keep me in chains?” Her gaze drops for a second, but her hand tightens on my arm. “Would you toss me onto your bed and **** my legs apart to make it clear how I'll have to serve you?”

“I might do that, if I thought you were ready.”

“I couldn't stop you,” Alison crosses her wrists and lifts them high over her head, “not if my wrists were tightly chained. All I could do was hope you don't violate me ... beg you not to claim me with your cock ... plead with you to be gentle with me.” Her body presses closer, and she rubs up and down against my frame like a dog in heat.

“I think we are getting ahead of ourselves.” I carefully separate our two bodies before my erection grows any bigger. “You take those books upstairs; I'm going to catch the news.” Alison looks a little surprised and confused by my dismissal, and I wonder if she too thought she'd end the evening pleasing me with her sweet body. Don't get me wrong, it is tempting, especially because of how good she looks at the moment. For now though, I am content with the memories of Alison writhing under me last night; I figure it wouldn't hurt to let her simmer a little before I turn the heat up again at the end of the week. “I imagine you have schoolwork to do, Angel, so don't let those books keep you from doing well in your classes.”

“Oh, I won't, Mr. P.” The response comes out reflexively, but I am experienced enough to know that she is going to up late at night reading through at least one of the books. Alison retreats with a shy smile on her face clutching the bag and my suspicion that she's going to start working on the reading that I assigned instead of her regular courses grows even stronger.

The next few days pass relatively normally, the only change in the routine is that Dick does not come over for his usual booty call on either Monday or Tuesday. I try to explain my satisfaction at this change in routine to the fact that I won't have to listen to her bed banging, but I'm pretty sure that there is more to it than the peace and quiet. On both days Alison disappears to her rooms after dinner instead of watching TV with me and I miss her quiet company. Monday, she comes downstairs for a cup of decaf and a flaky apple pastry at halftime, but on Tuesday evening she is unusually quiet during dinner and her snack sits uneaten by her perch on the couch.

The muffled sounds coming down the stairs are so quiet that at first, I not quite sure what I'm hearing, but when I turn down the TV it becomes a little clearer. Soft moans and whimpers accompanied by a soft scraping sound are pretty clear and after turning up the volume again I creep up the steps to confirm my suspicions.

She's lying naked on the bed with her legs spread open wide masturbating furiously with her fingers jerking against the top of her sex. This is no gentle stroking; the poor thing's face is twisted in a frenzied mixture of desperation and euphoria as she jills her fingers wildly.

It is not hard to figure out what has brought on this feverish bout. Sparrowhawk's The Slavegirl of Akkadis lies on the floor near the bed, apparently knocked down by Alison's wildly gyrating body. Her moans are punctuated by broken phrases and muffled grunts and as I stand there in the dark, I can make out bits and pieces of the young woman's dark fantasy. Her eyes are clenched tightly shut and her mouth is open as she gasps out bits and phrases.

“Noooo....Don't touch me! You beast ... you monster! Aaggh, augh, ughh ... please I'm not that kind of girl ... uugh ... oh No! ... I've never ... please don't make me ... not that ... oooghhh, Dear God, PLEASE!” I might be wrong, but it sounds to me like she is pleading not for mercy from her tormentor, but for the orgasm that, so far at least, seems to have eluded her.

I take one step back down the steps, when it occurs to me that there is no real reason that a have to go, from what I could tell from the brief glimpse it seems like Alison needs a man to give her the relief she is craving.