Archive-name: Bondage/bet4.txt Archive-author: John Carter Archive-title: Bet, The - Part 4 He knelt between her legs. His hands ran back and forth in ever shrinking circles between the top of her pubic hair and the bottom of her slit. A circle with his hands and he was travelling within her pubic hair all the time, only pausing briefly at the bottom of her slit to tantalize and tease her before moving on. Each hand mirrored the movements of the other. They travelled up the sides of her sex, diverted into the forest of her hair and then back down until they met at the bottom of her slit. Three, four, five more times he repeated the maneuver, each time the distance between his hands shortened. On the next pass his fingers did not stray out into her hair. Instead, they travelled up the inside of her slit, running along in her wetness, pausing at the top of her sex just over the clitoris, brushing it oh so briefly, and then decended back to the bottom of her slit only to begin again. She found herself moaning. She wasn't sure how long she could stand this. The sensation wasn't yet all that intense, but her state of arousal was. Without any thought on her part, she found her hips moving, trying to increase the contact on her clitoris as his forefingers passed over it. She was wondering how long she could stand this when he broke off the pattern, one long finger sliding into her hole. The feeling of contact was so intense from this, as intense as she could ever remember it being, that she felt her orgasm begin almost at once. Her fear was that he would remove his finger, stopping her orgasm. She tried to thrust her hips at him, making a sound that was beyond a moan, nearly a snarl. His finger was replaced with two, both not only meeting her thrusts, but rubbing her g-spot at the same time. She felt that the whole center of her being was turning to water. The orgasm began in her loins and radiated. Each time she felt her orgasm begin to subside he increased the force of his thrusts. It seemed to just go on and on. She was running out of breath. She felt the room swim around her. Had she not been blindfolded, her eyes would have refused to focus. "And what's the first number?" she heard him say. She was only able to moan in reply. "I wonder how long you can keep coming?" she heard him say. "How much do you want to keep the first number secret?" His fingers concentrated even more on her clit. She had begun to enter a transition phase where she wasn't so much coming as she was going into sensation overload. When he would speak, she didn't always focus on the first few words. As she tried to catch her breath, which was becoming more difficult, she found herself struggling against all of her bonds. It was nearly 9 minutes later when she told him the first number was 5. Part 4 He allowed her to catch her breath for an interval. He massaged her feet, relaxing her. He moved up to her calves. His strong fingers slowly forced her tense muscles to relax. His hands went to just above her knees and repeated the process. Instead of continuing the process on the inside of her thighs, as she expected, he maneuvered his hands to the outsides of her thighs. As he moved up her body, his hands slid under her thighs, finding tight muscles there as well. His hands were having the effect of compelling her to relax. She was surprised at how tight her leg muscles had become. After an interval of relaxing her, his movements began to have a second effect. They began to stimulate her. She still felt the relaxation creep over her, but the nearness of his hands, the off hand way he stroked whatever he wished, was having it's effect on her. The way she was tied caused her knees to be constantly apart. Her inability to remain still for any length of time was having another effect; unless she was very careful, she could feel her sex opening. From time to time she would lose contact with him. The idea that he might be looking at her from any angle at all, possibly looking directly into her sex (and without her being able to know or do anything about it) was all at once, disconcerting, arousing, Kinky, and shameful. When he resumed touching her, she always wondered what he had been up to, and he did this often enough to confuse her thoroughly. His hands continued their movement up the outside of her thighs, under her thighs, never touching her sex, but always being near to it. When he moved up her body to rub the tension out of her bottom, he actually lifted her body off of the bed an inch or two. Again she was surprised at how tight her muscles were. His hands were most thorough. He rubbed every inch of her bottom. When her muscles began to relax, he expanded the area his hands worked on. As her muscles became nearly limp, he continued his calmly possessive massage to her nether opening. She was expecting him to penetrate her immediately. Instead he began to slowly massage that as well. His hands made a new movement and for the first time in several minutes ("How Many?" she wondered to herself) touched her sex. Freshly lubricated, his fingers began to massage that tightest of all muscles, returning for lubrication as often as necessary. This odd caress effected her in an equally odd way. She, at first, felt invaded by his attention, even though he continued to stop short of penetration. Then it began to relax her. This might have continued longer had he not continually rubbed her sex ever so lightly. That gesture changed the chemistry of what was happening. His attention to that most secret part of her caused her to focus on it almost exclusively. Being on her back, and tied that way, made the feelings coming over her seem safer. It would take substantial changes in her situation to position her for him to enter her with his member. She was at an angle where, from that at least, she felt safe. When she had begun to relax and enjoy his caress he added an extra movement. His fingers began to lightly probe the sides of her opening. At first this was only an extra stimulation, but it became more and more noticible, more and more important as the minutes passed. She found herself thrusting her bottom back at him, begging with her body for the penetration that had frightened her so much sparse minutes ago. Realizing what was happening to her, she felt a flush that was part curiosity at what she would do next, part confusion at what had already happened, part shame, and part active interest in the process. Then she felt the stimulated feeling change to something else. His fingers had still not penetrated her, but deep in her loins she felt the approach of another orgasm. Before she could think to hide it, another moan escaped her. "I don't suppose that you want this enough to tell me the second number in exchange for my entering you?" He asked in a husky voice. She was glad to know that this was effecting him as well. She grinned at him (she hoped he was looking at her face [considering her state of dress, a major assumption]) and said, "Enter me?" She said, trying with all her might to feign indifference, "Were you thinking of that?" She almost carried it off. Her voice broke on the last word. The orgasm had continued to grow. He slid a well moistened finger slowly into her dark passage just as the explosion hit. Without touching her front he kept her coming for nearly three minutes. --