Angelina sat back and looked over her ornamental creation. It was almost her best ever cock garnishing. Four full rings of cherry gloss color that she would now be obliged to remove in the allotted time. Four rings: four minutes.
Angelina took a few cleansing breaths to oxygenate her blood for her impending oral sprint to Ned's finish line. For this maneuver she would need to brace against Ned's body. She hugged Ned's thighs together for anchorage. Then she lapped his crown V and pushed her lips of his cock head. The clock started running.
Angelina devoted a flurry of plunges, licks, laps, suckles, rubs, harder suction and head bobs all focused on wiping the lipstick off Ned's dick. At the one minute mark, she had coated her face and Ned's groin with the excess saliva escaping her mouth. The action was a rambunctious tumult of caresses. At the two minute mark, Angelina sensed Ned's breathing and the rigidity of his cock getting harder. At the three minute mark, Ned was grunting and verbalizing his excitement. Only one minute left to beat the clock. She gathered her last ounce of energy and sprinted towards the finish line. It was going to be a photo finish.
Angelina gave an internal yip of joy when Ned burst forth with is first rope before the four minutes was reached. She accumulated his salty, slippery goo in her mouth, slathering his shaft with her spunk sodden tongue. Ned was now holding her head rather than her hair, calming her motions on his over-sensitized cock. He had eased his firmness by the time she finally drew off the newly polished rod. The moment of truth was upon them. They inspected her cleaning work.
Angelina used two fingers to wobble the tumescent meat in the daylight. The shaft was mostly clean, a slight ring residue near the base where her tongue efforts were least effective. Ned allowed that she had done all right. But Angelina was a perfectionist and demurred. Angelina had booked a month of residence at TWA in order to vie for the permanent guest instructor position. She looked up at him with imploring green eyes. Could Ned squeeze her into his schedule a few times a week for more practice? Ned said he'd do his best to satisfy her pleas.
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Ned arrived at Coaching Tune-up Suite 2 after a short refraction break. Rosiya was waiting for him. She was the model of efficiency. The bed was made up with white satin sheets, there was an unusually sturdy massage table in the central open space and Rosiya was already nude, ready to go.
Seeing her again, Ned now recalled the East European beauty whose memory had escaped him in Zena office: moderate height, full busty figure, dark features, and oodles of sexual energy. He had not been her primary coach-tutor but had gotten acquainted with her unique gifts in several coaching tuneup sessions. He was particularly fascinated with her missionary poses and recalled how she had overcome a deficiency.
During her academic progression, a persistent coaching note was her reluctance during missionary to fully sense her feelings while being used. Psychological analysis revealed she became anxious whenever a muscular male constrained her beneath his bulk and thrust vigorously into her bodily orifices. This inhibiting fear stemmed from childhood punishments where she was held down while being disciplined. She unconsciously associated the two as one. The coach tutors came to the rescue with an ingenious solution.
Rosiya was restrained and stimulated throughout numerous sessions. Each session gradually tightened the restrains and strengthened the stimulations. Her brain reconfigured the subconscious memories. She now associated restraint with ecstasy. She was cured of the fear and hooked on the depravity.
Rosiya became an expert in the art of bondage orgasms. She gave her domineering masculine mates eye popping orgasms. She generated simultaneous torrents of pleasure to herself, experiencing ripping mental brownouts that echoed in her core. She would demonstrate that form of lovemaking to Ned. She needed his endorsement to teach it as a part of the TWA poise curriculum. Thus the sturdy massage table awaited their mutual research.
Rosiya produced handcuffs. For Ned's tryout of her techniques, Rosiya would only restrain her wrists, giving her voluptuous form freedom of movement to squirm and struggle beneath him. She hopped on the table and positioned her head to lay back over the edge. That was her usual starting posture. She could avoid distracting eye contact during the course of being fucked or, before the man clambered onto her restrained naked body, give him inverted oral foreplay. Ned was impressed with her well thought out preparations.
Ned snapped the chrome steel manacles about Rosiya's cooperatively proffered wrists. She happily instructed him how to fasten the clamps low on the massage table legs, pulling her arms and shoulders over and down. Her ribcage lifted and her back stretched into a cambered arch. Her elevated chest invited the aroused male to tease her rose tipped rack of bounteous breasts. Rosiya adored tit play; it carried her higher into stronger orgasms. Ned completed the confining preparations, few that they were.
Ned lowered his shorts, exposing his flaccid penis. Rosiya summoned him with a wink and head bob to the top end of the table. She tilted her head back even further. Ned was a quick study and understood the solicitation. He moved his groin near her inverted face. Ned's hands lovingly caressed her cheeks, neck and straining arms, letting Rosiya sense his enthusiasm for the impending connection. Rosiya used her extended tongue to skillfully raise his rod tip to a level that aligned with her opened lips. Unable to move her body, Ned would control the depth and pace of the facial foray.
Ned gave Rosiya just the tip to tickle, then the knob until he stiffened sufficiently for greater depth. He thrust moderately, then deep, holding for a slow five count before partially withdrawing. Rosiya caught her breath. When Ned thought her ready, he drove deep again, then pulled back and wiggled around in the shallows. The varied motion brought on a varied response.
Rosiya sucked hard whenever Ned kneaded and fondled her defenseless boobs. She sucked even harder when Ned twitched and tugged on her attractive nipples. He leaned in to kiss and suckle her delectable enflamed areolae, bracing against the table for added stability to thrust his cock in long strokes. The pace was faster and faster until it was beyond Ned's command to stop the burst of sperm that spewed forth into her oral cavity, filling it with a milky salute to her expertise.
Ned collapsed from the high he felt, resting his face in Rosiya's cleavage. His balls weighed on her face; his belly against her chin. She patiently waited for his bodily recovery. When Ned was cognizant of his surroundings, he let his sticky rod slip out, pulled back and leaned over to place a kiss on Rosiya's reversed lips.
Ned reached down to unfasten the cuffs when Rosiya stopped him with some hurried words.
"Wait! Don't you like my breasts? Wouldn't your cock adore a boob tunnel ride?"
"Not just this minute; the busy little guy needs some rest."
"Take your time; I'm not going anywhere."
Ned shuffled to the bed and stretched out on the satin sheets, throwing an arm over his eyes and napping for an hour. Feeling refreshed, he come back to the tied up Rosiya who had partaken of her own rest, though not in quite the same comfort.
Rosiya directed Ned's attention to the oils and lotions in the under-table cabinet. The assortment included fruity, flowery and unscented unguents. Ned smelled and wrist rubbed several samples until he selected a jasmine scent. He slathered the balm lavishly on Rosiya's tits, slipping and sliding his palms around as he kneaded and squeezed her generous mounds. Rosiya lauded his labors with gleeful moans and sighs. Rosiya's growing excitement was matched by Ned's growing erection. It was time to get to it.
Ned swung a leg over her body and mounted up. Fearing he had jumped too soon, Ned was delighted when Rosiya showed him where the table was fitted with a handy crank. The headrest wedge could tilt Rosiya's head forward. He worked the mechanism until Rosiya's chin rested on her collar bone and her mouth was positioned to assist with the tit fuck.
Ned cradled his fat prick in the warm slick tunnel. His hands pressed her boobs against his pole; Rosiya's hands, literally tied up elsewhere, were unable to assist. Ned thrust himself to and fro between her mounds. He paused occasionally to waggle the separate globes in counterstrokes, using their spongy elasticity to massage his rod. If he halted on the high point, Rosiya would lick the head. She would kiss it when it was closer still, and suckle it if Ned lunged far enough. He alone controlled her access to his cock. Rosiya played along; the jasmine taste reminding her of a soothing cup of spring tea. The rigid cock poking her chin and lips reminded her that she must avoid being a completely docile participant in this escapade.
Rosiya must have played her erotic role well. Ned played a long time before he peaked and sprayed her lips, chin and cheeks with his spunk. Rosiya lay passively, picking at the goo with her tongue where she could find it. Ned would have helped Rosiya with finger scoops but he was still dazed by his orgasm. He panted out longer and shallower breathes until he established the strength to dismount. Ned found towels beneath the table and gently daubed her face. He wiped up the excess oils on her tits but left a fine sheen that looked invitingly erotic to him.
