She began to moan slightly, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to grasp the edge of the bench again. I grinned, pushing every last bit of effort into the final stretch. She was near the edge, and so was I. Both of us, our heads thrown back in ecstasy worked each other over and over, building up the tsunami of pressure. I was grunting more now, the effort in a constant battle with the pleasure of the moment. But finally, ever so slowly I felt us going over the edge. For the last ten. I mean, it all just kind of happened without planning??You mean you guys hadn't made up all these rules in advance???Nah, we just let you think we did...we would sort of make up a new rule, when you guys would find a new way to break the old one, and sometimes it sounded almost ludicrous, what we were telling you to do.?Bill seemed disappointed, he was trying to get his head around it. ?Somehow, I thought there was a master plan to my rehabilitation, it sounds even dumber now that there was no. St. Andrew’s crosses, burgundy drapes, we had to build a throne seat and a platform in front of it. All signs pointed to bdsm club, and a very upscale one at that. Everything was really ornate. Drawings on the crosses and stage, the throne had gold inlays. Fancy shit.After all was set up, I had about 2 hours to get the head people of the club to come in and make sure everything was to their satisfaction. I gave them a call once we were done and they arrived eerily soon after I hung up the phone. You'll have to remember to kick me under the table if I'm getting too noisy." Me too! My parents say that when I'm nervous, I talk too much to try to fill any awkward silences." Yeah, Jen used to do that as well - but I think both of you have grown out of it. I certainly haven't noticed you doing it. Or perhaps you're not shy or nervous around me?"She giggled at that comment - we were now far too familiar with each other's 'private' parts to have the slightest trace of self-consciousness.
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