fifty-shades-of-grey

Christian is standing over me grasping a plaited, leather riding-crop. He’s wearing old,faded, ripped Levis and that’s all. He flicks the crop slowly into his palm as he gazes downat me. He’s smiling, triumphant. I cannot move. I am naked and shackled, spread-eagledon a large four-poster bed. Reaching forward, he trails the tip of the crop from my foreheaddown the length of my nose, so I can smell the leather, and over my parted, panting lips.He pushes the tip into my mouth so I can taste the smooth, rich leather.“Suck,” he commands his voice soft. My mouth closes over the tip as I obey.“Enough,” he snaps.I’m panting once more as he tugs the crop out of my mouth, trails it down and undermy chin, on down my neck to the hollow at the base of my throat. He swirls it slowly thereand then continues to drag the tip down my body, along my sternum, between my breasts,over my torso down to my navel. I’m panting, squirming, pulling against my restraints thatare biting into my wrists and my ankles. He swirls the tip around my navel then continuesto trail the leather tip south, through my pubic hair to my clitoris. He flicks the crop and ithits my sweet spot with a sharp slap, and I come, gloriously, shouting my release.Abruptly, I wake, gasping for breath, covered in sweat and feeling the aftershocks ofmy orgasm. Holy hell. I’m completely disorientated. What the hell just happened? I’min my bedroom alone. How? Why? I sit bolt upright, shocked… wow. It’s morning. Iglance at my alarm clock – eight o’clock. I put my head in my hands. I didn’t know I