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The Bet by John Carter
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The bet : Pt. 3
He knelt between her legs. His hands ran back and forth
in ever shrinking circles between the top of her pubic hair and
the bottom of her slit. A circle with his hands and he was
travelling within her pubic hair all the time, only pausing
briefly at the bottom of her slit to tantalize and tease her
before moving on.
Each hand mirrored the movements of the other. They
travelled up the sides of her sex, diverted into the forest of
her hair and then back down until they met at the bottom of her
slit. Three, four, five more times he repeated the maneuver,
each time the distance between his hands shortened.
On the next pass his fingers did not stray out into her
hair. Instead, they travelled up the inside of her slit, running
along in her wetness, pausing at the top of her sex just over the
clitoris, brushing it oh so briefly, and then decended back to
the bottom of her slit only to begin again.
She found herself moaning. She wasn't sure how long she
could stand this. The sensation wasn't yet all that intense, but
her state of arousal was. Without any thought on her part, she
found her hips moving, trying to increase the contact on her
clitoris as his forefingers passed over it.
She was wondering how long she could stand this when he
broke off the pattern, one long finger sliding into her hole.
The feeling of contact was so intense from this, as intense as
she could ever remember it being, that she felt her orgasm begin
almost at once.
Her fear was that he would remove his finger, stopping
her orgasm. She tried to thrust her hips at him, making a sound
that was beyond a moan, nearly a snarl. His finger was replaced
with two, both not only meeting her thrusts, but rubbing her
g-spot at the same time.
She felt that the whole center of her being was turning
to water. The orgasm began in her loins and radiated. Each time
she felt her orgasm begin to subside he increased the force of
his thrusts. It seemed to just go on and on. She was running
out of breath. She felt the room swim around her. Had she not
been blindfolded, her eyes would have refused to focus.
"And what's the first number?" she heard him say.
She was only able to moan in reply.
"I wonder how long you can keep coming?" she heard him
say. "How much do you want to keep the first number secret?"
His fingers concentrated even more on her clit. She had
begun to enter a transition phase where she wasn't so much
coming as she was going into sensation overload. When he would
speak, she didn't always focus on the first few words. As she
tried to catch her breath, which was becoming more difficult, she
found herself struggling against all of her bonds.
It was nearly 9 minutes later when she told him the first
number was 5.
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