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songs of the clitoris and time taken....

11:15 am Wednesday, 13th November, 2013

When J.B was ready to continue i placed her on her back on the bed. I looped a prepared length of cord around each of her plump knees and tied the other ends to the broad bedstead - her posture was now not dissimilar to a traditional birthing position (knees pulled back towards her breasts, thighs splayed, cunt exposed).

J.B., in my opinion, made a very pretty picture then. Her hair, not quite lank with sweat, was a vivid spray of red across the linen pillow, her breasts heaving heavily, her thighs shivering with anticipation. Almost obscured the hilt of the skipping rope- as it was still lodged in her anus - twitched as little shudders of something approaching pleasure passed along her aching spine.

And then, as always, there was the clit - that bud amongst the wetted petals of the flower. Being otherwise so pale the full pinkness of J.B.'s wetted cunt was almost raw almost blooded it was so vivid against her flesh. Her labia -engorged - had parted, and how she glistened as a creamy lavish of wetness ran over those livid inner lips and streamed down and between her white cheeks. And there nested in the unfolding flesh that pearl of a clit, so hardened now it pronounced itself beyond that pretty little hood and almost winked to see the light after so long.

J.B. gathered up the weight of her breasts in her hands and her limbs stiffened in anticipation. There is no part of the body that exists in isolation from the mind. The min, therefore, anticipates sensations long before any actual physical contact has been made. So, in that moment, it was J.B.'s exquisite mind that was already reacting - had already experienced (in a way) the brush of breath, or tip of tongue along the little shaft of her clit.

I took up the skipping rope and draped a loop of it so that stroked her inner thigh, letting it trail softly and slowly from her plump and pretty knee until it almost swung against her swollen lips... almost. J.B. bit her lip and arched her back, and tried to press her hips forward (the loops around her knees prevented that) to meet the tiny weight of the cord.

'Fuck...!' she breathed softly.

As she anticipated the same sensation to be repeated i altered the weight of the cord and brought it down sharply on the topmost part of her inner thigh. Her clit ruddied with blood swelled again. The pulse of it was almost visible then. I struck again on the other thigh.

'Fuck...!' she gritted through her clenched teeth.

Now i allowed the loop of cord to draw between that lovely cleft of cunt and trail a creamy path from between the cheeks of her arse and all the slow way up over the dips and swells of her. As it passed over her clit she whined, again struggling to maintain contact by the adjustment of her back and hips. She sighed as i withdrew even that small comfort. I stroked the wetted cord across her petted lips and she licked at it while it was there - would have sucked it dry, if i had let her.

And all the time her clit pulsed and the neck of her cunt gasped and undulated.

'Please...!' she whimpered.

I stung her swells with a single stroke, so close to her clit that she would have felt the air cool around it even as the heat of the blow extended. Now that she anticipated that last and spilling blow i lowered my head between her thighs let her feel the heat of my breath - the near brush of my lips.

It is all about textures. Each texture of touch feeds the next and the next. The contrast between each heightens the next sensation until even the lightest touch can be beyond any sensation. J.B.'s mind and her clit were, i felt, at last... one. They were melded now into one sensation - the imagined and the realised touch were.. one.

I tugged a plump lip with my teeth and then raised myself above her. Planted my feet firm and with some rhythm now stroked the cord against her clit.. twice... three times.. and then struck an almost weightless blow directly on the bud and so she spilled then. A great gush of pale, fragrant, waters spilled out of her. And she was beyond even sound at that moment - other that splash of her waters as they broke across the bed...

As the wave of her orgasms gathered i filled her with the wooden dildo (specially made) and fucked her to the same rhythm as the waves so that they only increased, and her clit, that lovely swell, almost burst (she said.. later).

When she was spend i lowered my head again kissed her wilted clit and she thanked me for that.

it was a very tender.. kiss.

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