"Stop." He tugs them from my mouth. Moving toward the bed, he throws the duvet aside and sits down on the edge.
"Come here."
I stand in front of him.
"Now turn round, bend down, and grasp your ankles."
I blink at him, and his expression darkens.
"Don't hesitate," he admonishes me softly, an undercurrent in his voice, and he pops the balls in his mouth.
Fuck, this is sexier than the toothbrush. I follow his orders immediately. Jeez, can I touch my anklesI find I can, with ease. The t-shirt slides up my back, exposing my behind. Thank heavens I have retained my panties, but I suspect I won't for long.
He places his hand reverently on my backside and very softly caresses it with his whole hand. With my eyes open, I can see his legs through mine, nothing else. I close my eyes tightly as he gently moves my panties to the side and slowly runs his finger up and down my sex. My body braces itself in a heady mix of wild anticipation and arousal. He slides one finger inside me, and he circles it deliciously slowly. Oh, it feels good. I moan.
His breathing halts, and I hear him gasp as he repeats the motion. He withdraws his finger and very slowly inserts the objects, one slow, delicious ball at a time. Oh my.
They're body temperature, warmed by our collective mouths. It's a curious feeling. Once they're inside me, I can't really feel them - but then again I know they're there.
He straightens my panties and leans forward, and his lips softly kiss my behind.
"Stand up," he orders, and shakily I get to my feet.
Oh! Now I can feel them... sort of. He grasps my hips to steady me while I re-establish my equilibrium.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice stern.
"Yes." My answer is feather soft.
"Turn round." I turn and face him.
The balls pull downward and involuntarily I clench around them. The feeling startles me but not in a bad way.
"How does that feel?" he asks.
"Strange."
"Strange good or strange bad?"
"Strange good," I confess, blushing.
"Good." There's a trace of humor lurking in his eyes.
"I want a glass of water. Go and fetch one for me please."
Oh.
"And when you come back, I shall put you across my knee. Think about that, Anastasia."
WaterHe wants water - now - why?
As I leave the bedroom, it becomes abundantly clear why he wants me to walk around
- as I do, the balls weigh down inside me, massaging me internally. It's such a weird feeling and not entirely unpleasant. In fact, my breathing accelerates as I stretch up for a glass from the kitchen cabinet, and I gasp. Oh my... I may have to keep these. They make me needy, needy for sex.
He's watching me carefully when I return.
"Thank you," he says as he takes the glass from me.
Slowly, he takes a sip then places the glass on his bedside table. There's a foil packet, ready and waiting, like me. And I know he's doing this to build the anticipation. My heart has picked up a beat. He turns his bright gray gaze to mine.
"Come. Stand beside me. Like last time."
I sidle up to him, my blood thrumming through my body, and this time... I'm excited.
Aroused.
"Ask me," he says softly.
I frown. Ask him what?
"Ask me," his voice is slightly harder.
WhatHow was your waterWhat does he want?
"Ask me, Anastasia. I won't say it again." And there's such a threat implicit in his words, and it dawns on me. He wants me to ask him to spank me.
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