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* Queer Fiction
* Kinky Erotica
* The Softer Side
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The Bathroom Mirror
by Julius © 2009
The table, a sheet of plywood with three jig-sawn openings, rested on trestles. Brenda rested facedown on the table. Her hands and feet were secured to the corners. She was blindfolded and naked, save for her little, white, cotton panties.
Her breasts, pointing floor-ward jutted through two of the holes. Her nipples were clamped and the clamps were joined by a chain.
Every ten minutes he removed the clamps and gently massaged her nipples with fingers and thumbs. Even if she complained of the pain when he took off the clamps, she enjoyed the massage. So did he, crouching under the board, playing with her protruding breasts.
"I have to pee John." She waited for a response but got none.
"I'll have to go soon." There was urgency in her voice.
"Soon my dear, soon." He tried not to sound pleased. He'd been waiting, hoping she'd ask sooner, rather than later.
He reached for the big, plastic pop-bottle and hung it carefully on the chain between her nipples. She sucked air between her teeth as the clamps pulled a little harder but she made no complaint.
John crawled out and stood. He was naked and his cock waved as he moved. He was acutely aware of his erection and the torment of having her so near, so willing but, for now, so unavailable.
He slid the bowl, on its box, under the third opening, under her pussy.
"What are you doing?" asked Brenda.
He didn't answer but glanced at the clock and stood waiting for the ten minutes to elapse.
"I told you, I need to pee and the clamps are hurting and this board is all splintery."
"You know you're loving every moment my sweet."
He smiled and reached to caress her ass. He was loving it, loving challenging her, loving her helpless nakedness. She always complained and begged to be let go but this was their game, their foreplay.
Time to take the clamps off again. He got to his knees and moved under the makeshift table. He grimaced, next time he'd make the trestles taller.
"Yes," she murmured and he carefully removed the first clamp and Brenda gasped above him. "Oh John, that hurts!"
He removed the other and she squealed.
Gently he caressed the skin of her breasts around her nipples wondering at the softness, the silkiness of her skin. The nipples were big now and an angry red. Brenda moved on the board above him as he played with her.
His cock was drooling. Taking some precum on a fingertip he anointed her left nipple with it. Above him, she struggled in her bonds.
"Ow!" she squealed, "splinters are sticking in my breasts."
"Be still then." He continued toying with her nipples, loving their hardness, their size.
"John, I have to pee!"
He clipped the clamps carefully back on her nipples, loving her cries of pain and protest.
"What are you doing now? You have to untie me."
"I'm putting the tube from the basin, into the bottle that's hanging from your nipples."
There was a long silence. Finally, "Does that mean what I think it means?"
"You have a beautiful imagination, so it probably does."
"You'll have a long wait then," she told him angrily but there was no conviction in her voice.
"I don't think so." He crawled out and stood again. He crossed to the wall and turned the thermostat to zero, "Let's turn the heat down a little."
Next he opened the window slightly. She turned her head as she heard him.
He said, "The chill air should hurry things along."
"Yes Brenda. Do you know that water weighs ten pounds per gallon, maybe two and a half pounds a quart?"
She squirmed on the board, signalling her need. He moved to stand beside her, reaching over he pulled the waistband of her panties down, leaned close and kissed her buttock.
Her legs were so invitingly apart, open when she must so badly need to close them. He slid a hand up the inside of her thigh and touched her through the crotch of her panties. She was wet. His other hand was on his cock, stroking it.
Slipping fingers under the fabric he began exploring her moist softness. She writhed helplessly.
A glance at the clock showed another ten minutes gone, nearer fifteen.
He took the clamps off yet again. She told him it hurt, told him how aroused she was, begging him to release her so she could relieve herself. So they could make love.
"We are making love." He craned his neck and took a nipple in his mouth and suckled at her. Above him she struggled frantically, making little mewing sounds.
He knew she was near to coming and released her nipple. He gently replaced the clamps. The empty bottle swung on the chain, pulling her nipples this way and that. His cock was like an iron bar.
"John I have to pee!"
"Go ahead lover."
"In my panties?"
He laughed, "Why not? You know I love washing them for you."
He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower knowing how it would affect her. Jeez! Now he needed to go too.
He went back to her.
"Damn you John, you're being cruel."
"And you're loving it." His hand went to his cock again; he wouldn't have to wait much longer surely.
He bent and kissed her pretty ass, nipped the soft flesh and thought how much he loved this sweet creature.
"Oh no!" she whispered and he heard the trickling sound.
"One pound per pint Brenda."
© 2009 Julius. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
Bio: Julius? A smut writer since my teens. I wonder, what were those stories were like; the ones written by a virgin, male teenager? An Englishman by birth but now a long-time Canadian and quietly proud of both. Why write smut? Well, sex is lovely isn't it? Women are wonderful aren't they? Writing about "it" and "them" seems natural somehow. THE ACT and the delicious frolicking and foreplay that lead to it are surely the stuff of stories. So I write about it. If my audience 'gets off' on what I write? Wonderful - that's what it's for! That is praise indeed. So, this tall, bearded, bald, old guy writes erotic tales when he's not building his model railway. More Julian wickedness at: http://eroticklyours.blogspot.com
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