An orgasm with Japanese beads (Part 6)

29.07.2012 | By: Miriam

Miriam hears from Bob again. He prepares a real surprise for her without even taking his clothes off, except his tie...

(PhotoXpress)

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Bob calls me a few days later. The velvet voice on the other line tells me he got my telephone number from Ariana.

We meet at the theatre. He squeezes my hands and kisses me on both cheeks in a friendly way. But the two encouraging kisses contain so much passion that I’m overcome by heat. He has his hand on my knee throughout the show, his warm presence completely enthrals me and I follow the show only in the way of images gently sinking into me.

The show is followed by glasses of wine, deep looks, subtle hints about sex. Then he suddenly grabs my hand and takes me to the car. We drive to his apartment wordlessly, he puts his arms around my waist possessively so that I follow him like a sleepwalker.

In the apartment he takes me out of my red dress in one move, then rids me of the lingerie which was specially chosen for him. When I’m naked in front of him, he looks at me like I was a statue he has just put in his garden. He remains quiet the entire time.

My skin pricks up from the cold and expectation. I reach for his shirt, but he intercepts my hand and shakes his head. He undoes his tie himself and looks towards a pole attached to the frame of the door. What does he want? For me to get up? Does he want to show me where he gets his elegant muscles from?

It’s clear to him that I don’t know what he wants. He just smiles and lifts my hands. He ties my wrists to the pole and looks at me again. He’s still wearing his clothes. I’m exposed to his greedy pleasurable look, because of which my skins feels goose bumps. I feel his eyes on my hard nipples, which are waiting like soldiers for action, orders or anything else. With hands stretched above my head, my breasts are even more exposed. I become aware of a side of them that is being neglected – this is continued to below the armpits. I become aware of the inner side of the upper arms, my stretched belly is purring contentedly like during morning stretching.

Bob disappears for a few minutes and when I become restless, he comes back with a kind of pot for creams, a small Japanese box and a feather. Will he start tickling me, I shudder. He starts sliding the feather down my neck. It doesn’t tickle me, oh no, it sends a rush of blood to my crotch. He makes wide circles around my breasts a few times. He kisses my nipple extremely tenderly, I curve inside even more so that he’d finally take it in his mouth, between his teeth, suck on it, but Bob moves away with a smile and continues the game with the feather.

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Oh, touch me, touch me, I keep repeating to myself, but I respect the silent agreement about silence. When I think his gentle and rough hand will finally slip between my legs, he moves away again and goes behind my back. He continues with the feather again – from the nape of the neck slowly downwards. He circles around my buttocks sensually and unexpectedly spreads my legs decisively. I feel a new hot flash between them. I’m all wet and he hasn’t even really touched me yet. He slides with the feather from the inner side of my thigh up to my knee and goes over my puffed labia. I curve my body and feel my helplessness.

He finally slips between my legs with moist fingers. I scream when the highly anticipated touch occurs and it’s already over. But it leaves an unusual, hot, tingling sensation on my smooth labia. I want him even more, oh how I want him, but I’m also enjoying the prolonging of my arousal.

What’s he doing, what’s he conjuring up with that lubricant? He takes some metal beads out of the Japanese box. There are four of them, dressed in silicon and they seem familiar to me. He puts some unusual lubricant on them and turns me towards himself with his hand on my Venus mound, so that my bottom is protruding into his face. This is the first time I hear him. He emits a moan and he buries his tongue passionately into the unexplored hole. I don’t know what’s happening to me anymore. I’m breathing way too fast, but Bob soon calms me down. Then, something totally shocking happens. He pushes the cold, metal, moist beads into my ass one at a time – one, two, three, four. I’m shocked and I moan louder, but more with pleasure, with each bead.

When they’re all inside me, I hear the zipper on Bob’s pants. My knees are shaking with expectation. I try to look back to see him. He slips across my hip with his left arm, first to my starving pussy and starts circling my mound. He occasionally touches my clitoris. I flinch every time he does this and I feel the beads.

Bob is massaging my crotch and is drawing figure eights or who knows what on my bottom with his cock. Then he finally penetrates my pussy and we pause for a moments in bliss. Oh, it feels so good to be filled up all the way, I feel him so strongly and I know that I’m going to come like never before.

Bob starts thrusting into me, he’s caressing my exposed breasts, sliding down the skin on the inside of my arms. How I missed this and I didn’t even know it! The beads are moving in rhythm with Bob’s cock and the thin wall between the two holes becomes the centre of crazy, unknown pleasure which is washing all over my entire body. When I scream too loudly, Bob shuts my mouth with his hand and continues thrusting deep into me. When I come, I bite his arm and start sobbing. Right after this I feel him freeing himself from the strong grip of my vagina, pulling the beads out and spraying my protruding bottom.