Hair Brush

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The show was ending and the game she was playing had grown stale. She wasn’t really in the mood for screens anymore. She closed the iPad cover and looked over at him reading a day-old newspaper on the couch. What was she in the mood for?

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said.

He looked up. “OK.”

“Will you please prepare to serve me when I get out?”

He folded up the paper quickly. “Of course.”

The question was fairly rhetorical; their dynamic when it came to intimacy was always that he served her. She asked it merely as a signal to him that she was in the mood and he should get ready. He slid off the couch and crawled over to her. He lifted the edge of her t-shirt and gave her belly a kiss, while one of his hands massaged one of her feet. “How would you like me?” he asked.

This was a good question, and it brought her back to the one she asked herself: what was she in the mood for?

Sometimes she liked him in a sleeveless undershirt and tight jeans or in a suit and tie: the rogue or the gentlemen, either using assertiveness to seduce her, possess her roughly, and make her cry out in release and surrender. Sometimes she wanted him naked and submissive; she’d take him in her mouth, get him slick and hard, and ride him, pinching his nipples to make him moan.

She quickly decided.

“I won’t be needing your penis tonight—unless I change my mind, of course—so prepare the ribbon, cord, and plug. Since this isn’t a night where your manhood is needed, I will prefer you feminine. Choose a nightie to wear.”

“All right,” he said. She looked for any sign of disappointment in his eyes, but couldn’t detect any. Likely he held hope that she’d at least let him stroke himself a little afterwards. “Will you need anything else?”

“Just the hairbrush,” she said, while stroking his hair affectionately. She then saw at least a blink from him. The brush could signal two different possibilities.

She made the shower a long one, deciding to shave her legs. The moment she turned off the taps, she heard the door open. She pulled back the curtain to see him with her towel open wide. In the mist she could see he had chosen the long rose-colored illegal bahis nightgown. It was elegant enough that he didn’t look too ridiculous, but of course, she knew he felt ridiculous— and turned on.

She allowed him to dry her body from toes to shoulders, and she allowed herself a pinch of one of his nipples as he bent over. She took the towel from him—”Wait for me in the bedroom”—and worked on drying her hair herself.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting. In a line beside him was the brush— wood-handled and eminently suitable as a paddle if one chose—the plug and lube, a towel, a red ribbon, and a thick coil of pink nylon cord.

She stood naked in front of him, hands on hips, remembering to put herself in a position of power, and reviewed the items and him for a long moment. “Fine. Let’s get you settled first, so I can begin relaxing.” She lifted her eyebrows and her chin slightly in a slight bob he understood at once. He turned and got on all fours on the bed, facing away from her.

She reached out and enjoyed a moment of caressing his ass through the satiny nightgown, then said sternly, “Pull it up.” After he lifted the gown over his hips, she gave one cheek a slap with the back of hairbrush. “Head down, please.” He dropped his upper body lower, putting himself into an even more submissive position.

First, the ribbon. She squatted down, and just as a tease, gave his balls a lick. He shuddered and she gave his dick a yank down. “Don’t get all excited, now.” Around the balls and over the top of the penis she tied the ribbon, having to work a bit to get the bow right from behind. She had to swat him a couple of times with the brush to get his legs wider. The ribbon had been a decoration of sorts and a symbol for them. She had first used it one time when she had shaved him completely down there, because it had looked so bare and boyish. Now she used it often as a sign of emasculation to him when she didn’t want the use of his penis.

Next, the cord. She pulled his balls down roughly and tied a knot with one end of the cord around the top of them. The cord served as a leash, mostly. Sometimes she tied it around the base of his erect penis to lead illegal bahis siteleri him around, keep him hard, and prevent him from ejaculating. For this night, the balls would do.

Last, the plug. She drizzled lube down the crack of his ass and used the tip of the plug to work it into his tight hole. Teasing him a little, she dipped the plug in shallowly and slowly, before surprising him by pushing the whole thing in. He gasped. “OK, enough of this,” she said. “Tonight isn’t about you. Turn around.” She gave an encouraging tug on his balls with the pink cord.

He quickly, but carefully, to keep the plug in place, pivoted to again face her. He again sat on the edge of the bed, his lips set tightly as he settled down on the plug. She held the brush out. “Get to work, please.”

She sat at the foot of the bed, facing the mirror, where she could see them both. He moved gently behind her and began working the brush through her hair, likely relived it wasn’t a night he got spanked with it. Periodically, he caressed her upper arms and kneaded her shoulders between strokes, and gave small kisses on the back of her neck that gave her goosebumps.

“Hand me your cord,” she said, with an open palm up. He gave her the end and she slowly wrapped the excess slack around her hand until it was taut. As he continued his ministrations, she gave occasional small tugs. Nothing painful; just reminders. Then a firmer tug. “I’m ready to move. It’s time to serve my back.”

He moved out of the way and she crawled up the bed to lie on her stomach. She closed her eyes, and still held the cord in her fist.

He knew just what she liked. She felt the soft kisses move up her calves, upper legs, butt, lower back…and she couldn’t help but let moan escape her lips when he reached the back of her neck. His fingers were also at work, lightly gliding along her legs, putting small pressure points on the long muscles of her back, engaged in concert with his air kisses and small licks. Now and then, she felt the tip of his erectness through the slippery nightgown brushing her flank, and she felt herself getting tingly, relaxed, and yet anticipatory. She resolved to be patient, to hold out and canlı bahis siteleri enjoy his attentions longer. In the past, she would often rush to have him inside her and then the whole thing ended too soon. But she had learned.

After ten minutes more, she signaled him to stop with a sharp tug of the cord. Sighing, she rolled over onto her back. He stood, smiling at her from the foot of the bed. She smiled back. “Is everything still in place?”

He pulled up the gown and readjusted the bow around his penis, reached back and positioned the plug tightly between his cheeks, then nodded. She flipped the cord towards him and he took the end, drew it down through his legs and over his shoulder to hand it back as he crawled up between her legs. He gave the inside of her thigh a kiss as she took it back.

“Wait until I give you permission, girlie,” she said as she again wound the cord tight. Now it pulled his balls back and pushed against his plug as it ran up the crack of his ass. She gave it a yank. “You may now begin. Start slowly. Do a good job and I may let you play with your penis a little after.”

He began giving small licks around her pussy, curling inside her lips and occasionally giving short passes over her clit. She began rolling her nipples though her fingers, and when she wanted him to speed up a little she gave the cord a tug. He had done this a lot, however. Almost any time they got intimate he was expected to make her cum with his tongue. Sometimes she had him use the vibrator, of course, or his hand. The point was, he had gotten quite skilled at giving her what she wanted.

As she got closer and closer, as her spine began arching, as the tingling grew into a pleasurable hazy anticipation, as his fingers dipped inside her and started to stroke lower to her asshole, making her twitch each time, the spring inside her wound tighter and she pinched at her nipples harder.

Then the waves hit and she trembled, yanking the cord over and over, pulling his tongue inside her before it ended and she was ticklish and pushed him away, releasing the leash.

As she caught her breath he crawled up beside her and kissed her neck. “That was very good,” she said. “You deserve a small reward and I will allow you to stroke your cock ten times slowly.”

“Thank you,” he said. As he drew out the ten strokes, she laid her head on his shoulder, on the silky material, and began a contented descent into sleep.

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