"Give me your fingers." She knows what I want, and slips her two middle fingers, wet with her juices, into my mouth. I lick and suck them clean.
"Stand up" I say then, "and take your pants off."
She does, untying the laces at her waist with trembling fingers. I let her stand there for a moment, in just a little tank top, goose bumps forming on her bare thighs, and finish my wine, idly stroking a hand along the outside of her leg.
"Over my lap" I tell her quietly, "you forgot your assignment."
Sarah lies over my lap with a small whimper. I gently stroke her ass, and the insides of her parted thighs, which are wet, and Sarah can't help but squirm a little. My right hand finds her tender, distended nipple and I roll it roughly, pulling another gasp from her. Then parting her thighs a little further with my left hand, and slipping two fingers deeply into Sarah's mouth, I give her a hard series of spanks with no break or rest between, until her ass is hot and red and she is squirming continuously, writhing on my lap. "Shhhh...." I tell her at last, and again stroke and sooth her with my hand on her thighs and ass and lower back. I part her thighs more as she quiets down, lightly roll her inner labia between my slick fingers, then slowly and lightly stroke one finger up the entire length of her slit, from her little, puckered pink ass to the tip of her clit, which is swollen and tender and sensitive. Sarah gives one long, low moan as I do this, and her pussy opens like a flower, and as I touch her clit directly, her whole body gives a jolt. I leave her clit alone, and stroke my fingers back down her slit, and slide a wet fingertip over her asshole, which makes her jump, then slip a finger slowly into her ass, which makes her moan again. The left leg of my jeans is soaked with her juices.
I let her slide onto her knees in front of me. She's a little teary from the spanking, and I kiss the tears away and pull her to me, and sooth her, and kiss her. Soon she's cooing and pressing to me, still on her knees. I move my hands to her breasts, and through the fabric, take her nipples firmly between my forefinger and thumb; not moving, just holding. Sarah soon is slowly rocking her torso in a small circle to increase pressure on her nipples the way she likes, and giving short gasps.
I take my hands away.
Sarah gives a little cry of protest, but I stand, and sling her up with an arm beneath her knees and around her shoulders, and carry her into, then through, the bedroom into the bathroom. I sit her down onto the cold tile of the sink; she gives a small jump as her bare ass hits the chill. I run hot, hot water into the sink, and wet a clean new washcloth, wringing it only slightly, then pulling Sarah to the very edge of the counter, and leaning her back so her shoulders are against the mirror, her ass on the edge, I carefully place the hot, wet washcloth between her legs, completely covering, and wetting, and warming her pubis. I leave it there and take my shaving mug and brush, and with more hot water, whip a lather of thick fragrant white foam in the mug with the stiff bristles.
Sarah is looking at me with wide eyes.
"No way."
I grin. And nod.
"I can't!"
"You better, or I'll stop."
Sitting on a stool in front of her, her legs spread wide by my hands, I remove the still-hot washcloth and taking the marble handle of the shaving brush in my right hand, slowly lather Sarah's pussy with the warm, thick, soap.
The sensation is intense. Sarah's back arches the moment the stiff, soft bristles scrape and spread over her inner thighs, labia, clitoris. At that last, she cries out, and her body jerks as if shocked. I have to carefully gauge her reactions and sounds; I don't want her to come yet, but it's hard. Her body, so keyed up from hours of torment, is sensitive all over. She's on the very brink, and has been since I got home.
Beautiful.
I continue with the brush, stroking, swirling the thousand points of the bristles over her sensitive, quivering flesh. I have to stop several times to let her come down a little. She's breathing deeply and harshly, her eyes closed, except when her orgasm nears and she opens them wide in panic and looks at me in warning.
She's a very good girl.
I stop, finally, Sarah is panting, and take a new razor, and carefully parting her thighs further, stroke the razor over the already smooth, soft, lathered skin. I finish relatively quickly, and spend slightly more time, very carefully, on the sensitive inner area; and finally, placing my thumb directly and firmly on her clitoris, which causes additional writhing and a small cry, make the final few strokes.
Wetting the washcloth again with hot water, I wipe the remains of the foam from between her legs, the warmth, and the roughness of the cloth causing Sarah to squirm and gasp yet again, and I finish with a hard, but short swipe directly up the center of her. I take a soft new towel, and gently dry her thighs and legs, and belly and mound, then stand her up in front of me. Her legs are shaking, and I have to support her for a moment.
"One last thing, baby."
I tip a generous amount of silky aloe lotion into the palm of my right hand, and wrap Sarah's thick dark hair in my left. I tilt her head back roughly, and smooth my palm, slick with lotion, over and around the freshly slick skin of her mound, her pussy, and between her thighs. I do it quickly, almost roughly, manipulating the sensitive lips and folds of her with my hand, working the lotion in, soothing, but heating her at once. Sarah cries out, and almost fights to increase pressure on her core, which I am trying to avoid. She's writhing, her hands on my wrist, but not pulling, just there, her head pulled back by my grip on her hair, lost in sensation.
It takes her a few moments to realize that I've stopped. Her eyes fly open, and now she can't help it;
"Baby. I...baby, please, let me...I...god, please!"
I take her into the bedroom and lift her onto the bed, spread her legs, begin with her feet, alternating kisses and bites as I work my way up over her ankles, calves, thighs. I lay on my belly now, between her legs, her hands in my hair, unconsciously pulling my face into her, her knees bent up, feet flat on the bed, pelvis straining up to my mouth, and slowly, gently, I swipe my tongue the length of her slit, from the smooth, sensitive spot below to the very tip of her piping, aching clitoris. Sarah cries out, hands gripping my hair. I do it again, an agonizingly slow, steady, relentless stroke, this time dipping my tongue slightly into her pussy on the way. Sarah's head is thrown back, she's saying only please, please, please, repeatedly in a low quiet voice. The next stroke comes faster, harder, lingering longer on her clit at the top, pressing, the next again, immediately now, swirling the bud around, and pressing, and fluttering, and another, and another, and I reach up and find her nipples with my hands, and pinch them hard, and Sarah pulls my face hard between her legs, her thighs convulsing in around my head, crying out, arching her back, as her orgasm tears through her in a rush of heat. Her hips are pumping, and she is crying and laughing as she comes in a wave.
She is utterly spent. I come up her body, kissing her belly, hips, breasts, neck, and fit her to me. Her lips find mine and our tongues roll languidly. Her eyes are heavy-lidded and she looks beautiful, and sexual and ripe and dark. I hold her. I lick a drop of dewy sweat from her shoulder. She tucks her head into my neck.
"Baby."
"Hm?" is all she can manage.
"I didn't say you could come."
She only laughs, and punches me weakly in the arm. I smile.
"Good girl."
I kiss her some more.
