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ght that this was just a temporary part of our role-playing and that sooner or later she would want to resume our normal lovemaking routine. I was wrong. At the end of every session Wendy finished me off without showing the least interest in having me enter her. It got to the point where I’d been disappointed so many times that I just stopped expecting it myself. As time went on and our roles beg

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an to extend more and more into our regular lives, the idea that I might put my penis inside Wendy seemed absurd to me. After a while, the thought of penetrating my wife seemed such a sacrilege that I doubted I could even maintain an erection long enough to do it. However, now Wendy was talking of not even bringing me off manually. Did she really mean that? Or was she just being cruel? Wendy l

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ightly ran her long red nails along the underside of my swollen cock. It gave a series of little jumps. She laughed. Poor little thing, she said. You look so uncomfortable. I suppose you’d like me to pull you off? Yes, mistress. She flicked my cock with her finger, hard. Bad girl, she said. Wrong answer. Looking me straight in the eyes, she slowly, purposefully unsnapped the crotch of her leot

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ard. Then she slowly ran her finger over the lips of her shaved pussy. Her creamy white shoulders shivered slightly and her dark eyes narrowed as she stroked herself with her finger. She let her eyes travel the length of my bound, naked body, from my face to my toes and back again. Who’s slut are you? My voice trembled. Your slut, mistress. Will you do anything I ask? Yes mistress. br Without

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question? Yes mistress. Wendy looked to be at the brink of orgasm when she suddenly stopped stroking herself. She reached down and slowly painted my mouth with her wet finger. I closed my eyes and licked the taste of her off my lips. Then I opened my mouth and gently started sucking Wendy’s finger. She pushed her finger slowly in and out of my mouth. I didn’t realize what I was doing at the ti

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me. It just seemed so perfectly natural. That’s it, Tim, Wendy said encouragingly. You look so cute like this. I don’t know how long I sucked Wendy’s finger, but eventually she climbed onto the bed. She straddled my head and imprisoned my face between her lean, strong thighs. Still bound, I desperately licked Wendy’s already wet pussy, making it even wetter, while she loomed above me like a be

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autiful goddess, massaging her pert, pretty breasts, which she had removed from the little cups built into the lacy cups of her leotard. I slurped and swallowed Wendy’s juices as I worked my tongue over her swollen clitoris. Soon, I felt the tell-tale little tremor that told me her orgasm was imminent. She reached behind her, grabbed my balls and squeezed, and I moaned in pain as I finished br

inging her off. Several minutes later I was lying on my side, spooned against her, ankles re-cuffed together, wrists behind my back. She had slipped a condom over my penis, as usual, after noting that I was beginning to leak. Now her soft right hand was around the shaft of my hard cock and she was slowly and teasingly pumping me. With her other hand, she played with my stiff nipples, still ten

der from the clamps. She brought me right to the edge of cumming and then she stopped, over and over again. Every time I was about to shoot she would squeeze and let me go, leaving me hanging. After so much of this torture, I was reduced to a jittery, trembling wreck. You are so good like this Tim, Wendy crooned into my ear. This is the way you need to be. So open. So honest. So vulnerable. We

ndy, please… It’s okay Tim, she said, her hand once again pumping my cock. You want to wear panties. It’s okay, really it is, honey. Had I said that? Yes, of course, I did. I couldn’t stop myself. I had been answering her questions all along, unable to censor myself at all. She brought me to this point every time we had sex. My life had already changed so much as a result of telling her my fan

tasies. Was I really prepared for it to change more? And shoes…don’t be embarrassed, honey. I think you’d look perfectly adorable in platforms. Big clunky sandals you can hardly walk in. Shall we paint your toenails? Oh yes, that got a reaction. We’ll use pink polish to start, something you have to look twice to see. Or maybe we should just go all out and paint them black like those mall girls. What do you think? She slowed her rhythm, interrupting what seemed my inevitable orgasm, and I moaned in frustration. My hands twisted helplessly in

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