The woman lowered her hands and gingerly pulled the cups off her breasts, whimpering softly as the points of the tacks scraped against her tender flesh.She did not turn around until she had raised her hands to cover her breasts, shielding her modesty from Rob’s sight. The bra dangled from her right hand.He said, ?I’d like to see that,? and took the bra in his hand. She relaxed her fingers enough to let him take it from her.The leather cups were stiffer than he anticipated. Mostly because, as she had said, there were dozens of thumbtacks glued to the inside of each cup, probably with a good strong epoxy. They were packed so densely that almost no leather could be seen between the broad heads. While he was examining the torture device, she was scanning the room, looking for her shirt. She wanted to cover herself and saw that it was not lying across the back of the chair where she had put it.?Where’s my shirt???Umm. It’s safe. Don’t worry. I haven’t lost it.??Give it to me.??Soon. Not. "I masturbated furiously now, eager to retain my stiffness and then, as I knew would happen, I felt that deep sensation that told me that my orgasm wouldnot be long. Six or seven strokes later and I was on the brink. Rachel held out her hand knowingly and with a further half dozen strokes I delivered anotherorgasm into it. A further small puddle of white joined the rest as my balls racked with seizures and a deep ache set in."You're almost empty now, but thats not enough." Rachel instructed.She worked my fresh ejaculate into her fingers in a lazy cat-like way."Twice more tonight I think, " she mused.I continued wanking. My prick was no longer rock hard. Rachel made herself comfortable and turned on the TV, settling back to watch."Keep wanking yourself." she told me.I stood by her chair abusing my cock. Slowly her right hand reached out and curled around my balls, fondling them. My stiffness returned, my wanking became furious as I struggled to comply with her request for more. A.
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