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I turn in his arms and face him. I look directly into his eyes. The question is still there. Louder now than on the stairs. But he won’t say it. I lean into him and feel the fullness of him press into me. His arms are once again strong around me. I lean in and very softly exhale…near his neck …but it sounds like ‘yes’. He shifts a tiny bit and looks down at me. The very hint of a smile. His mouth is on me. Warm, wet. Unhurried. The music is building, the song is almost over. He takes my hand and leads me to a corner. It is dark…there is a curtain hanging halfway over a couch. The band has ended its song and the crowd is showing their appreciation. We can feel the applause and of course a hoot or two. He takes the curtain from its pull and the crowd is gone. He moves me to the couch and with his strong, soft hands pushes me to a sit. I feel more than hear the red guitar quietly beginning. It is playing only for us. I let my arms slide down his torso. Soft, but still strong under. But she struggled to do his bidding; there was no telling what the punishment might be if she failed. Squeezing her muscles around the length of rubber, feeling her pulse become one with its tortuous whir, she almost forgot her tortured breasts as she gave herself over to the joy.“Hold it tight,” Rob warned.He slashed a new line across her chest.Nancy hadn’t grasped that her eyes were closed with exertion until the flash of white pain exploded from the darkness. She shrieked, no longer caring who might hear, then almost relaxed as a wave of bliss threatened to take her. She felt the rubber start to slip and clamped her sex tight. Its incessant buzz kept pushing her to the brink of orgasm, but she fought the urge to come by concentrating on the echoes of agony vibrating through her breast. She knew she wouldn’t be able to maintain her hold through the paroxysms of pleasure. Clenching her teeth, sweating profusely, she refused to squeal again when he slapped the crop into the other.
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