My Weekend in Portland Ch. 06

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It was still raining steadily when I woke up alone, and a watery, gray light was filtering in through Ruth’s bedroom curtains. I heard the shower running.

“Jeez!” I thought, “I’m going to ORDER her to quit bathing without asking. Every time she starts smelling sweaty and sexy, she takes a shower!”

At least her bed retained the powerful, musky smell of sex. I burrowed in and dozed for awhile, until Ruth turned back the covers on one side and slipped in next to me, delightfully nude. But she smelled like scented soap. I stretched out and wrapped her up with my arms and legs.

“Hmmm,” she murmured contentedly. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Why did you take another shower?” I muttered grumpily.

“I thought you might like me clean,” she said quietly.

“I DO like you clean,” I insisted. “But I also like you sweaty and wet and smelling wonderful. Next time you want to take a shower, ask me first.”

I flung off the covers on my side and walked into the bathroom for a pee and a drink of water. I quickly brushed my teeth. When I returned, Ruth was lying in the same spot, a worried look on her face.

“You’re not mad at me are you?” she asked.

I looked at her, considering.

“Maybe you could use a little discipline,” I mused, “a little reminder that you DO need to take orders.” She was silent, eyes downcast.

I found a pair of scissors and a drawer full of panty hose, and in a few minutes Ruth was tied to the bed, spread-eagled on her back. I was careful not to cut off her circulation, but my knots were still good enough to hold her nearly motionless. My old Boy Scout skills came in handy. I stood surveying my handiwork, but the expression on my face must have been ambiguous.

“What are you going to do?” Ruth asked worriedly.

“I’m not sure … but something will come to me,” I said.

My eyes fell on a brandy snifter on her dresser. It held odds and ends including a small, white feather that might have come from an old-fashioned boa. I sat on the bed next to Ruth’s motionless form and she watched me closely as I leaned over and kissed her deeply. She sucked my tongue while it searched her warm, hungry mouth. After awhile I sat up and slowly dragged the feather over her skin from her wrist down the exposed underside of her arm to her armpit, under her breast and down to her waist. She shivered and shrunk away when I hit the “tickle” zone over her ribs.

I concentrated for awhile on her left breast, drawing the feather slowly along the rounded underside then up between her mounds and over the top. I was pleased to see the nipple slowly stiffen, while her areola began to contract. Ruth closed her eyes and turned her head away, breathing Bycasino deeply. I drew the feather slowly, right over the nipple, and Ruth stretched, arching her back to thrust upward. I drew the feather back over her nipple the other direction and she sighed.

For five minutes or more I worked on Ruth’s breast with the feather, until her nipple and areola were engorged and dark and she was panting with desire. “Ohhh, suck me baby,” she pleaded, “Suck me please!” I ignored her entreaty.

Then I stood up and moved to the other side of the bed where I began teasing her right arm, side and breast. This time I took even longer, concentrating on her reaction to each touch, making sure her level of arousal swelled up and up. I glanced at Ruth and found her face and neck flushed a delicate pink, her eyes screwed tightly shut and her mouth gasping for air. Her arms strained against their bonds, fists clenched.

“Please. No more. PLEASE!” she moaned. I didn’t answer.

Briefly I stroked her neck with the feather, then I trailed it lightly down between her breasts, down the groove in the center of her stomach, into her belly button. After teasing her belly button for awhile, I replaced the feather with my tongue, with teasing soft touches. Ruth thrust her hips up eagerly when the feather passed lightly through her pubic bush. Then I was dragging it slowly down the inside of one thigh, then up the inside of the other. She twisted her hips and legs, whimpering, trying vainly to escape.

Still I slid the feather slowly up and down her inner thighs, almost touching the puffy outer lips of her pussy where her thighs met her sex. She was still trying, straining to escape my light, feathery torture. I forced myself to continue, minute after minute.

Finally, then, I tossed the feather away and knelt between her outspread legs looking down at her bound and straining form. My dick stood out straight, painfully hard, bobbing slightly. She stared up at me, panting, a light sheen of sweat covering her face.

“Now!” she whispered eagerly, lifting her head. “NOW!”

I leaned over and rested my weight on my elbows, my face only inches from her crotch. I pursed my lips and blew on her pussy, fanning the thick hair, enjoying the smell of warm skin and sex. I turned and stroked the creamy skin of her thigh with the wet tip of my tongue. Ruth gasped.

I turned my head the other way and trailed my tongue tip up her leg, starting just above the knee and stopping an inch short of her crotch. My nose brushed her coarse pubic hair and I heard Ruth give a brief moan. Using short strokes, I licked my way up the top of her thigh to the little crease where it joined her hip. My tongue followed the crease down Bycasino giriş until I reached her hair. Then I turned my head and did the same on the other side of her sex.

Ruth’s pussy looked delicious, through her thick hair I could see her darker outer lips swollen open to reveal the delicate, glistening pink of her inner labia. I slid my hands under her buttocks, lifting and positioning her hips to begin feasting. First I ducked my head and delved through her pussy hair to lick the tiny patch of skin between Ruth’s pussy and her tiny, puckered asshole. She tensed. I drew the tip of my tongue slowly up one side of her pussy, tracing the thick outer lip, then I returned to the bottom and traced up the other lip. Her hips jerked upward and she moaned.

“Please, please, PLEASE!” she insisted.

For a long time I teased the sensitive skin of her crotch with my tongue, roaming from her asshole to the dense hair at the top of her slit, occasionally turning my head to nip lightly at her smooth inner thighs. I made long strokes up and down, coming as near as I could to her slit without pushing inside. Ruth responded first by helpless gasps, then long frustrated moans as she thrust her hips again and again, seeking contact and relief. Suddenly I stopped and raised my head.

“What do you want?” I said.

Momentarily confused, she didn’t answer, and I repeated my question.

“What do you want?”

“I want you,” she said softly.

“Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” I said.

“I can’t say it!” she complained weakly.

“Say it or I’ll stop right now,” I threatened.

“I want you to lick me,” Ruth said, voice low and quavery.

“Where do you want me to lick you?”

“I want you to lick my pussy,” she said, gaining strength.

“What else?”

“I want you to lick my pussy and put your tongue inside me, and … and suck on my clit!” she said.

“Say it again!”


I answered by driving my tongue, finally, between her outer lips, pressing apart her thin, soft inner lips and plunging deep into her slick, wet opening. The delightfully tart taste of her pussy juice was on my tongue. I pulled out and drove my tongue inside her again, and again, and again. She cried out with each penetration, and I could feel her body straining against her bonds.

Pausing a moment, I licked around her opening, then penetrated her again, pushing my tongue as far inside her as it would go, again and again. My face was wet with her juices from eyebrows to chin. Finally I stopped tongue-fucking Ruth’s pussy and began licking my way in short strokes up the channel from her opening Bycasino deneme bonusu towards her hooded clitoris. Reaching the top of her pussy, I licked a wide circle around her clit, careful not to touch it. Then I licked around it again, a slightly smaller circle, and again, the edge of my tongue touching her bump. She gave a low, short moan, her hips jerking.

Wrapping my arms around the tops of her thighs, I locked my mouth at the top of her slit and continued circling her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. Then I switched and began flicking my tongue tip back and forth across her little bump, touching it so lightly that I sometimes missed altogether. Now Ruth’s whole moaning body began to stiffen, her back and legs arching to hold her hips suspended off the bed, offering her sex to my mouth. I could feel the muscles in her lower abdomen tighten until they were hard and flat. At the same time, I increased the flicking of my tongue across her clit and slowly pushed my first finger into her pussy and my slick, wet middle finger up her asshole.

For a breathless moment there was no reaction, then Ruth’s body began to convulse and she screamed a hoarse, wordless scream that filled the room, stopped, then filled the room again. “AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH!” I had to struggle to keep my mouth on her pussy, my tongue flicking her pearl, as she repeatedly threw her lower body completely up off the bed. Her wildly bucking hips effortlessly lifted the weight of my upper body.


It seemed her climax would never end, but Ruth’s shouts and screams eventually turned into moans, then sighs, then silence. Her body went limp and her convulsions subsided into tiny, uncoordinated hip thrusts before she became altogether motionless. I kept my mouth on her pussy, but now avoided her too-sensitive clitoris and contented myself with short licks in her slit and opening, tasting her flowing juices.

I lifted my head, finally, from her damp crotch and moved up to straddle her waist. Ruth’s face was relaxed, her mouth slack, tear tracks running down from the corners of her eyes. Taking the scissors from the nightstand I carefully cut the bonds on her wrists and ankles. She remained spread-eagled, limp. Lying down, I pulled her onto her side, into my arms, her face pressed against my throat and my left thigh pressed up between her legs into her soaking crotch. I pulled the covers over us and held her like that, motionless. After 15 or 20 minutes she began to whisper, so faintly I could barely hear.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a tidal wave and survived, somehow. But all my strength is gone. I’ve washed up on the beach and I can’t move.”

She was silent again for awhile.

“Do other women feel like this?”

Before I could think of an answer, I heard the doorbell ring downstairs.

(End of Chapter 6 of 15)

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