Ecstasy in the White Room

“I know.” The words crack as he flexes his finger inside me and, to signal compliance, I grip hard, wiggling again against the chair.

“Very well,” he responds, his voice alive with excitement. Then, pulling out his finger, he rolls me over until I’m half standing, half leaning against the back of the chair. I gasp as my hot red buttocks press against the cool white leather, then let out another gasp as Simon comes at me from this new angle and jams his hand back between my legs.

He pushes two fingers inside me this time, and settles his nimble thumb squarely on my clit. With his other arm holding me firmly around my waist, beneath my fastened hands, he works me ruthlessly, roughly...just the way I like it. He doesn’t reprimand me this time when I moan and grunt and cry. Or when I mash myself against him, longing to grab at his shoulders and his back and his gorgeous muscular arse as he makes me come.