A Rainy Afternoon

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Couple plays erotic games on a rainy day.
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anon1940
anon1940
79 Followers

Would you like to have me to tease you? That's the question which I posed to Mary one rainy Saturday afternoon when we found ourselves at loose ends staring at the rain drops as they ran down the windows in our living room.

From past experience, Mary was familiar with my ideas about teasing. In particular, she knew that I require her complicity. That is, she knew that my pleasure comes, in large part, from the knowledge that she has agreed to temporarily relinquish control over her own body and to put it, quite literally, in my hands. Of course, her recognition of her own complicity has been the source of much of the excitement which she experiences herself when I tease her body. Nonetheless, exciting as it may be for her, her agreement to relinquish control is an act which borders on self immolation, and, as such, makes her understandably ambivalent about it. Thus, I was neither surprised nor disappointed when she hesitated before responding to my question. On the contrary, I interpreted her hesitation as evidence of the care with which she was coming to her decision.

For this reason, when, after several minutes, she accepted my invitation, I knew that she was committed to accepting whatever torment I might require her to endure, and so, without further ado, I told her to run a hot bath, remove all her clothes, and wait for me in the bathroom. Once she had done so, I joined her in the bathroom and asked her to immerse herself in the water. Because the water was quite hot, at first she found it difficult to relax. However, her body quickly accommodated to the temperature, and soon her face transformed into a beatific smile as her skin became suffused in a delicate pink hue. Wanting her to fully enjoy what was happening to her body and, at the same time, be aware that pleasurable rush of blood to its surface was making her body more sensitive and, therefore, more vulnerable, I had her remain completely passive while I began a thorough and intimate scrubbing of every part of her increasingly pliant flesh.

Lounging in warm water while someone else soaps and washes your body is a sensual experience. However, when that other person begins to probe and delve into every crevice, the sensuality of the experience comes into conflict with inhibitions. Thus, although Mary took unalloyed pleasure in my soaping and scrubbing of her firm limbs, stomach, breasts, back, and legs, her feelings were mixed about the attention I paid to the more remote areas of her body. Nonetheless, I insisted that she keep her arms raised not only while I shaved her armpits but also when, after carefully removing from them the last vestige of hair, I subjected her freshly shaved skin to a gentle but protracted scrubbing with our fingernail brush. Similarly, she found it difficult to stay passive when I prized and held open her buttock in order to introduce a small piece of soap into her rear. However, after the initial embarrassment had passed, she discovered that she could learn to tolerate and even enjoy the indignity of having me watch as her body heated and eventually melted the soap which I had inserted.

When I finished bathing Mary, I helped her out of the tub and had her stand with her arms at her sides in front of the full length mirror on the back of our bathroom door. As I expected, her bath had left her in a mildly dazed state of lassitude. Thus, even though she enjoyed the rub down which I gave her towel, her response was more one of relaxation than excitement. Wanting to reawaken her body slowly after I had dried it, I brought a pillow from the bedroom and placed it on the toilet for her to sit on. I then told her to sit on the pillow with her arms at her sides and her shoulders pulled back so that her breasts would be presented to me without obstruction. In this position, Mary's breasts are lovely. The countervailing forces of gravity pulling one direction versus the strength of her well toned muscles pulling the other results in her breasts assuming an inviting curve, and it was precisely this portion of her anatomy whose invitation I intended to accept.

When she was comfortably settled on her perch, I placed a chair in front of her, armed myself with a hairbrush, and, making sure that I left her with a unimpaired view of her own reflection in the mirror, sat down. Seeing surprise at my activities in her eyes, I explained that I intended to brush her breasts. I assured her that I had no desire to inflict acute physical pain. On the other hand, I did want to make her experience the excitement of enduring sensations from a source over which she had no control. To allay her fears, I told her that, although she would not be permitted to protect her breasts from my attentions, she could request that I desist for brief periods. On the other hand, I warned her that it would be I, not she, who determined when her breasts had been brushed enough.

Having informed her what it was that I had in mind, I brought the bristles of brush into contact with the underside of her right breast and gently drew them back and forth. Although the bristles were barely touching her skin, I made sure that they never left the surface of her breast. After several minutes, my efforts were rewarded by the appearance of a blush which soon enveloped the whole of Mary's right breast. At the same time, Mary's body language made it increasingly clear that the state of lassitude in which she had emerged from her bath had been replaced by a state of considerable agitation as she fought her inclination to remove her breast from the insidious brushing to which I subjecting it. In fact, not only had her brow become knit but the muscles in her neck and arms had become visible as a result of the intensity with which she had begun gripping the edge of the toilet seat with her fingers.

When, after another five minutes, the frown on her face and the subtle writhing of body left no doubt about her desire that I stop, I told her that I would turn my attention to her left breast if she would shift her position in a way which would maximize its availability to me. Without hesitation, she drew back her right shoulder while twisting her torso in a way which brought her left breast into prominence. Keeping my promise, I abandoned her right breast and applied the brush to the pink globe which her adjustments thrust in my direction. At first the change in target afforded Mary some relief, and the tension in her neck and arms receded. However, her relief was short-lived, and my brushing soon produced the same livid blush on the surface of her left breast as she already had on her right breast.

Once I was satisfied that her two breasts had been equivalently initiated, I returned to her right breast where I now focused on its nipple and the surrounding areola. In my first visit, I had carefully avoided this most sensitive region. Instead, I had circled the globe of her breast without touching the areola. Now I used the brush to caress her breast by, starting at the base, pulling the brush toward me and having the bristles follow the conic contour of the proffered breast all the way to the nipple at its tip. Each visit of the bristles to her nipple was greeted by a sharp intake of breath, especially when I guided the brush in a way which brought the points of the bristles into contact with the point of her increasingly rigid nipple.

Much to my pleasure and Mary's consternation, the response of her nipple to this treatment seemed to invite more intense stimulation. Pleased by the invitation, I decided to oblige by making the tip of Mary's right breast into a living pin cushion. That is, after placing the head of the brush directly over the areola, I applied enough pressure to be sure that the brush bristles would poke into the skin of her areola at the same time as the nipple itself would be forced to poke into the bristles surrounding it. Because at first Mary found this form of torment too much to bear, I gave her a respite when she begged for one. Nonetheless, from the salacious way in which she twisted her body while it was happening, I suspected that, in spite of the discomfort which it entailed, she found this mild impalement of her nipple very exciting. For this reason, when she had regained her composure and agreed to resume, I told her to lean forward so that her breasts would hang more freely from her body and, as a result, would be more malleable. Thus, when I brought the brush back into position, I was able to manipulate the entire globe via slight adjustments in the way I was impaling its tip on the bristles. After her initial shock at what was happening to her breast, Mary discovered that she was being surprisingly aroused by this new form of self immolation. In fact, after several minutes, she admitted to me, in a voice choked with emotion, that, for the first time in her life, she believed that she could be brought to orgasm through the stimulation of her breasts alone.

I had been long fascinated by the idea of bringing a woman to orgasm in this way, and so her admission greatly excited me and encouraged me to try. With this goal in mind, I studied Mary's reactions carefully and, when I saw that further attention to her right breast would exceed the threshold at which her discomfort might diminish her pleasure, I switched the brush to her left breast, where I stayed until her response indicated that I should return to her right breast. As I continued alternating between her breasts, Mary's growing excitement manifested itself in several ways. For one thing, she renewed her grip on the toilet seat with such strength that beads of sweat started to appear on her face and sweat began trickling down her rib cage. At the same time, she began to undulate her torso in a sensuous dance which caused the breast not being teased to bob and sway in unison with the breast being manipulated by the brush. Also, her eyes, which had become slightly misty, were fixed on her own image in the mirror, where she had a clear view of the torment to which I was subjecting her breasts. Finally, as time when on, she played an increasingly active role in the proceedings. Namely, by hunching her shoulders forward, she was purposefully forcing her breasts into greater contact with the bristles, and at no time did she attempt to protect them from their fate.

I continued this routine for about fifteen minutes, by the end of which time her distended nipples had acquired a deep red glow. When it became clear that she had derived as much excitement as she could from what I was doing and that continuation might begin to lessen her excitement, I put the brush aside and replaced it with my hands. I knew that her breasts would be warm from their ordeal, but I had no idea that they would be actually hot. However, when I cupped her breasts with my hands, they seemed to emit heat into my palms. I was also shocked to find how completely impressionable they seemed to have become. Wherever my probing fingers touched her breasts, they left behind a visible trace of the sort left when skin has been slapped. Thus, when I palpated her hanging breasts and molded them with my hands, their surface became mottled. On the other hand, even though their time under the brush had left Mary's breasts extremely tender, it was clear that their tenderness was of a nature which made them more, not less, receptive to my touch. Confirmation of this conclusion appeared on Mary's face, where a look of ecstasy now replaced the tension which had been written on it, and in her neck and shoulders, where a mild pink flush replaced the earlier strain.

In the hope that it would help her achieve the climax which we were both seeking for her, I began a systematic milking of her breasts. That is, by clasping one breast at a time with both hands, I induced a peristaltic motion in the breast by squeezing it firmly, starting at its base and progressing along its sides, until I reached the nipple, on which I then tugged, in much the same way as one would tug on the teat of a cow. Mary and I had often discussed whether her breasts would produce milk if I were to consistently milk them in the way I was now, and, in the course of experimentation, we had learned that, although no milk was ever forthcoming, Mary derived enormous pleasure from our attempts in this direction. Thus, considering the tender state in which the brush had left them, neither of us was surprised to find that, on this occasion, Mary's response to my milking efforts was overwhelming.

Within minutes she enhanced the availability of her breasts by resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward so that her breasts became more like udders waiting to be relieve of their bounty. Moreover, as I turned her nipples into teats by tugging on them, she began to emit a sort of satisfied cooing sound which bore a considerable resemblance to the lowing of a contented cow. Noting how much she enjoyed having her nipples tugged, I grasped one nipple between the fingers of each hand and, by alternately raising one hand while lowering the other, I made her breasts into a pair of fleshy bellows as they were alternately forced flat against her chest and then pulled away from her body into the shape of cone. Because her sweat had made them slick, I had to exert considerable pressure to maintain my grip on her nipples. Nonetheless, Mary's pleasure in what was happening to her breasts grew and grew until, while, literally crushing her breasts into my hands, she achieved the orgasm for which we both were striving.

Once her orgasm subsided, Mary leaned forward, put her lips next to mine, and expressed her gratitude for my success in relieving the boredom of a rainy afternoon.

anon1940
anon1940
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