Dear readers: You're cordially encouraged to go back and read Chapter One of this story to become acquainted with the characters, and the hot finger fucking, of course.
Enjoy. All aboard. I'd appreciate our feedback. This is my maiden venture into a BDSM story line, thanks.
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The sweet taste of Keri's hot, dripping cunt juices lingered on my hand throughout the night on Saturday. Come on, guys (and ladies), confess. You know you do this, too, we all have from time to time. Forsaking hygiene for a few hours so that you can savor the intoxicating, lingering scent of a lover's cum on your hands to memorialize a night that ended far too soon.
Combined with the memory of her incredibly talented and passionate kisses and her teasing hint of obedience, my often disobedient cock throbbed constantly throughout the week in anticipation of our next rendezvous on this upcoming weekend.
I received only one correspondence from Keri during the week, an e-mail message that said only: Come up to my apartment door when you pick me up, I want to discuss something with you.
I had picked her up at the front of her high-rise vestibule last date due to the fact that her young daughter was home with a babysitter, so this revelation told me that I had a invitation into her abode for this date. This offset the normal anxiety whenever a woman informs you she wants to 'discuss something'. Stronger men than myself have run for the hills upon hearing that phrase, it is indeed truly frightening normally for most males just seeking no-strings-attached carnal activities.
Instinctively, though, I sensed Keri had something relevant to share. It was apparent to me that still waters ran very deep inside of this externally subdued, private, yet highly intelligent woman. Intelligent women are always the most creative and adventurous lovers, from my humble perspective.
However, her cunt spoke volumes to me. It was literally the hottest tunnel that I had ever explored, the searing temperature that exuded from within her channels was unlike any that I had ever experienced from a woman, and this was just from mere, though intense, digital explorations. I knew the topic of conversation would be similarly scintillating.
8 P.M. Saturday finally rolled around after countless masturbation sessions during the long week. It was all I could do to declare a 24-hour moratorium and cease-fire between my hands and my own cock so that I had some ammunition remaining for the anticipated skirmish with Keri's pussy, so I stopped my relentless self-assault with one last rousing session behind closed office doors before I departed my office on Friday afternoon. Discipline was not normally my strong point. I would soon be duly motivated to improve.
Keri greeted me at the door and gave me a soft kiss and a warm hug, all rather platonic. She had heeded the request for a skirt, but it was a conservative, tasteful, suede skirt down to her ankles, augmented by leather boots with high heels. She again hovered over me by several inches, which I continued to find extremely arousing. Something about a tall, slender woman in heels.
"My daughter will be home in about two hours, she's at the movies with my sister and her kids, so if its OK with you, I thought we could just stay here?"
As she motioned me to sit down on the couch, she quite obviously noticed me perusing her attire. She raised an eyebrow quizzically as she sat down next to me, on the other side of the couch, a clear signal that we would indeed be conversing first before any extracurricular activities may commence. "Is something wrong?", she inquired, looking disappointed.
I blushed and stammered, diverting my eyes away from her legs, and tried to block out my thoughts of what was hiding beneath the long skirt and boots. Her legs were impossibly long, and I wanted to get between them pronto. However, for now, discretion was the better part of valor.
"No, no, not at all, it's just that, well....."
Keri smiled smugly and uncrossed and then again crossed her legs. It was as if she were reading my mind. (What's that old joke about a psychic breaking up with me very early in the relationship? It means she's very good at her job.)
"If you wanted me to wear a shorter skirt, John, you should have been much more specific. I told you I can be very obedient."
I squirmed on the couch, momentarily rendered speechless, unsuccessfully trying to take inventory of the karma in the room. I had lost control, for now, and was uncertain how to regain it. It was that quick. Keri flipped her hair back off of her shoulders, briefly exposing her chest so that I could see the outline of a lacy white bra beneath her silky cream-colored blouse. Her brown nipples peeked through the fabric, an encouraging sign, I mused.
"Don't fret, John, you'll very much enjoy what I have as accessory items this evening, in due time, perhaps. But for now, I need you to listen, and try to understand. Could you do that for me? I have an intuition that I can trust you."
I nodded as earnestly as I knew how, betrayed only by the involuntary below-the-waist twitching.
Keri sighed deeply. "I don't know what other way to say this, John, so I'll just blurt it out. I'm a sex addict." She stopped to study my initial reaction, but I had my best poker face on. Inside, though, I was thinking, "Tell me you own a golf course and a brewery, too."
I extended my palms upward and rolled my fingers towards me, in the universal 'tell me more' gesture, and attempted to put on my most empathetic face. I'm not certain that I could have succeeded, though. Why, oh why, was my cock so steel hard?
She continued hesitantly, "Well, I guess I should clarify that statement."
"No", I thought to myself. "I pretty much got your point."
