and how to let it go. Ready?”
“It would help if I knew what I’m supposed to be ready for, Sir.”
“Have you ever squirted?”
Some of us subs at the club have whispered about it between ourselves. My eyes go wide. “No, Sir! Is it real? I’ve heard about it, but . . .”
“Well, you’re about to. Try to relax.” I take a deep breath and blow it out. He starts to stroke into me with the two fingers, and I feel something, an unusual something, like I’ve never felt before.
“Sir, what is . . .”
“That’s your G-spot, sub. I’m ramping it up. It’s going to feel like you need to pee, but you’ll have to learn to let go.” He starts finger fucking me like crazy.
A weird sensation takes me over. It’s like I can’t be still, my hips wiggling and bucking. I’m panting and writhing. “Let it go, little one. Come on. You can do it.”
“But I don’t want to pee . . .”
“It’s not pee, precious. Let it go.”
I concentrate. It seems unnatural to just let loose of my bladder, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. It’s becoming unbearable, and he says, “Your gland is full. You’ve got to let go.” He increases the speed of the strokes, and I start to cry out. “Let it go, Vännan.”
I do; it makes me hideously uncomfortable to do so, but I still do. I hear him yell, “Yeah! That’s it! You did it! Take a look.”
The bed is soaked. My face is hot with embarrassment when he says, “Open your mouth.” I do, and he stuffs both fingers into it. “Suck.”
It’s not urine. It’s kind of sweet and musky. “What is that?” I ask when he pulls them out.
“It’s female ejaculate. You just ejaculated. How did it feel?” He’s put the heel of one hand on my mons and he’s pressing – hard. All the sexual tension I felt in my pussy is disappearing.
“It was, I don’t know, weird but intensely erotic. I want to do it again.”
“Not tonight, babe. I’ve got to clean this up. Now go and clean yourself up a little, take a leak, and get back here. You’re spending tonight in my bed.” When I come back, he pulls a chain from the side of the bed and puts a cuff on me – one with a padlock. “Get some sleep,” his lips murmur into the back of my neck, tickling me as he spoons against my back. “We’ve got quite a day ahead of us tomorrow.
“Come on. It’s not that bad.” I’m stumbling and tripping over roots and branches and all kinds of crap. I’m not much of an outdoor girl, and this is freaking me out a little.
We’ve been hiking for about an hour when I hear him say, “Aw, yeah! This is the place!” When I come out of the tree line, I gasp.
We’re on a bluff above a huge lake. I might’ve hated the hike, but the view is breathtaking. The water is blue and the sky is too, filled with fluffy little clouds. Everywhere there’s green, the trees, the grass, the edges of the water where the algae and stuff grows. It’s gorgeous, and we’re up in the air about eighty feet. “So what are we doing here, Sir?” I ask, unable to understand why we’d hike all the way out here just to look at a lake.
What the hell is wrong with me? I must be a special kind of stupid. I realize that when he tells me what to do.
“Take off everything. Then go and stand against that tree and look at me.” He points to a tree that looks kind of, I don’t know, rough? Scratchy? I undress and stand with my back against it. It’s even scratchier than it appears, and its surface digs into my skin in an oddly exciting kind of way.
Once I undress and turn toward him, I’m rewarded with my own version of the greatest show on earth. He unbuckles his belt, then unbuttons his jeans and unzips them. Once they’re undone, he pulls them down about twelve inches, then reaches up for the waistband of his boxer briefs. He pulls them down to meet the jeans, and his cock is free and pointing straight at me. It’s glorious out there in the sun, a shiny little drop crowning
“It would help if I knew what I’m supposed to be ready for, Sir.”
“Have you ever squirted?”
Some of us subs at the club have whispered about it between ourselves. My eyes go wide. “No, Sir! Is it real? I’ve heard about it, but . . .”
“Well, you’re about to. Try to relax.” I take a deep breath and blow it out. He starts to stroke into me with the two fingers, and I feel something, an unusual something, like I’ve never felt before.
“Sir, what is . . .”
“That’s your G-spot, sub. I’m ramping it up. It’s going to feel like you need to pee, but you’ll have to learn to let go.” He starts finger fucking me like crazy.
A weird sensation takes me over. It’s like I can’t be still, my hips wiggling and bucking. I’m panting and writhing. “Let it go, little one. Come on. You can do it.”
“But I don’t want to pee . . .”
“It’s not pee, precious. Let it go.”
I concentrate. It seems unnatural to just let loose of my bladder, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. It’s becoming unbearable, and he says, “Your gland is full. You’ve got to let go.” He increases the speed of the strokes, and I start to cry out. “Let it go, Vännan.”
I do; it makes me hideously uncomfortable to do so, but I still do. I hear him yell, “Yeah! That’s it! You did it! Take a look.”
The bed is soaked. My face is hot with embarrassment when he says, “Open your mouth.” I do, and he stuffs both fingers into it. “Suck.”
It’s not urine. It’s kind of sweet and musky. “What is that?” I ask when he pulls them out.
“It’s female ejaculate. You just ejaculated. How did it feel?” He’s put the heel of one hand on my mons and he’s pressing – hard. All the sexual tension I felt in my pussy is disappearing.
“It was, I don’t know, weird but intensely erotic. I want to do it again.”
“Not tonight, babe. I’ve got to clean this up. Now go and clean yourself up a little, take a leak, and get back here. You’re spending tonight in my bed.” When I come back, he pulls a chain from the side of the bed and puts a cuff on me – one with a padlock. “Get some sleep,” his lips murmur into the back of my neck, tickling me as he spoons against my back. “We’ve got quite a day ahead of us tomorrow.
“Come on. It’s not that bad.” I’m stumbling and tripping over roots and branches and all kinds of crap. I’m not much of an outdoor girl, and this is freaking me out a little.
We’ve been hiking for about an hour when I hear him say, “Aw, yeah! This is the place!” When I come out of the tree line, I gasp.
We’re on a bluff above a huge lake. I might’ve hated the hike, but the view is breathtaking. The water is blue and the sky is too, filled with fluffy little clouds. Everywhere there’s green, the trees, the grass, the edges of the water where the algae and stuff grows. It’s gorgeous, and we’re up in the air about eighty feet. “So what are we doing here, Sir?” I ask, unable to understand why we’d hike all the way out here just to look at a lake.
What the hell is wrong with me? I must be a special kind of stupid. I realize that when he tells me what to do.
“Take off everything. Then go and stand against that tree and look at me.” He points to a tree that looks kind of, I don’t know, rough? Scratchy? I undress and stand with my back against it. It’s even scratchier than it appears, and its surface digs into my skin in an oddly exciting kind of way.
Once I undress and turn toward him, I’m rewarded with my own version of the greatest show on earth. He unbuckles his belt, then unbuttons his jeans and unzips them. Once they’re undone, he pulls them down about twelve inches, then reaches up for the waistband of his boxer briefs. He pulls them down to meet the jeans, and his cock is free and pointing straight at me. It’s glorious out there in the sun, a shiny little drop crowning
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